Page 3 of Loathing My Boss
As I unlock my front door, I look toward the dreary navy expanse spread wide above my quaint neighborhood. No, the sun that generally graces the sky isnotup. “I am, thank you. Bright-eyed and bushy tailed even!”
He groans. “Why?”
“You’re writing five thousand words today, Mr. Bachelor. Plus, you have an interview at two. I emailed your brothers, so they know to leave you alone during the interview block.” I made each of the four of them a Canva pamphlet, specifically designed with their characters in mind. Sent one to Lukas, too, even though he’s on tour in Europe right now. If anyone is capable of being so loud it disturbs Viktor’s interview while he’s an entire ocean away, it’s Lukas. Getting my actual shoes on, I let the corner of my mouth hook upward. “Don’t worry aboutbreakfast. I’ll be making it once I get there. Per usual.”
“Please. No.” Viktor’s words stretch with a yawn. “One day of…mercy. That’s all I…ask.”
“You’re not getting any younger, sir. Do you want your hair to fall out due to a poor diet?”
Half asleep again, he barely mumbles, “I…good…etics.”
“Having good genetics is only half the battle. Alcoholics with good genetics still get beer bellies; pot addicts still lose their teeth. I’ll not hear of thisgeneticsnonsense anymore. It’smyjob to take care of you. You pay mevery wellto takegoodcare of you. So, don’t you worry about a thing. Crisis will be there soon.” And, then, I hang up.
Because it issomuch more fun when he falls back asleep before thecrisisrolls in…
Chapter 2
?
Grant me strength in the face of…Crisis.
Viktor
Ice water hits me, fissuring my nerve endings.
Launched awake, I jolt to find Crisis beaming angelically at me with an entirebucketin her hands.
“Good morning, sir!” she chirps, tossing on my nightstand lamp and searing my pupils with the brilliant light.
Quick breaths rock through my shivering chest as I squint against the agony of ice cubes in my t-shirt.
Crisis’s delicate yet strong hands fix one of my shivering ones around a tall weeping glass of whatever concoction she’s decided is mybreakfastthis morning. Usually, the smoothies are disconcertingly thick, troublingly green, and horrifyingly terrible. It would not surprise me if she delivered them pre-digested.
“Where did you…” I swallow, hard, against the cold. “…get abucket?”
“I asked Kaleb.”
“Kalebconspired against me?”
Her musical laughter almost warms my frigid skin. “He didn’t know what it wasfor,” she says, soothing some angst where my middle brother is concerned. Setting the bucketdown by my bed, she opens my curtains, which lends no further light to the room.
Dawn has never looked so bleak before. Violet hues barely kiss the lush flowers weighing down every plant Kaleb’s been tending to these past seven years.
Ever since our parents died in an accident and I was able to bring Kaleb back home, he’s kept to himself, making it his top priority to fill the Bachelor property with lavish gardens. Needless to say, the devastating shock of losing the matriarch and patriarch of our broken home hit each of us five brothers differently.
Kaleb gardens.
I…fall madly in love with the most abusive person I have met since my parents passed.
As my vision adjusts to the light and the devil herself takes shape, I free a shuddering breath. Dark waves spill around her shoulders, which her shirt today bares as though the birthmark upon the left one doesn’t beg kisses every time I see it. Sultry, alluring, brown eyes fix on me—thinly-veiled wickedness hiding in the elusive depths.
Her full pink lips taunt, tease, torture.
But I’m stuck on her eyes. Her beautiful, beautiful coffee brown eyes.
Ireallymiss the mornings when she’d bring me coffee instead of concentrated death. Oh to return to the days when she didn’t care about my health, or did care about losing her job.
It’s such a shame she’s proven her value as my personal assistant far exceeds early mornings and green smoothies by now. More than doubling my net worth in a matter of months’ll do that…
