Page 38 of Loathing My Boss
Either I’m the terrible person, and he justknewwhen he read my book that I wasn’t worth his time.Orhe’s a monster who felt like destroying one poor girl’s self-esteem, knowing there were no repercussions likestaying eleven more days in close proximity to them.
One of us has to be the problem.
And, let’s be honest, it’s probably me.
But while both remain feasible, I’m gonna stew in the feeble sensation of plausible rightness.
“I don’t know why you put up with me,” I murmur, curling back up against Crimson’s side, fighting to bury myself in her warmth and safety.
She squeezes me, tight. “How many times do I have to tell you? I don’tput up with you. I enjoy being around you.”
“Lies.”
“Truths.”
“Can’t be.”
“And, yet, it is. Even Viktor enjoys being around you, and you aren’t even a little bit in love with him.”
That’s for sure. I wouldn’t suggest heenjoysmy company, though. I’m useful. Let’s be blunt—drinking green smoothies, humoring my health schemes, and tolerating the minor inconveniences I prompt is a small price to pay for someone who has doubled your multi-million dollar income in a matter of years.
Viktor’s not a total moron.
He’s not a moron at all.
I mutter, “It’s kind of weird that he’s never been married before. He’s not terrible to most people, and he’s—what?—tall? I think women prefer tall guys. Six foot four is nothing to sneeze at. That is to say, if you try toinnocentlysneeze on him, and you are a tiny five-foot-three being, you miss, succeeding only in crop dusting yourself.”
Gently, Crimson combs her fingers through my hair. “I don’t know how to explain how worried about you I am, Cris.”
I smile. “Then do not try.”
She sighs. “Viktor…” She hesitates, shakes her head, starts up again. “All those boys…they didn’t have a sunshine and rainbows childhood, Cris.”
Yeah. I know. The poor dears lost their parents seven years ago—and as far as I can tell not a single one of them still mourns. Which is maybe normal. I came in after five years of mourning could have passed. But I also never hear a single thing about their parents. It’s like those people didn’t exist. “Did Mommy and Daddy Bachelor not get poor lil Vik a pony for Christmas before they died?”
“It’s not all about money, dearness.”
I flinch. “Right. I didn’t mean… I’m…” I close my eyes. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. You’re right. You’re completely right. How…” I clear my throat. “How bad of a childhood are we talking? They all just seem so well-adjusted, you know?” Except Lukas. But Lukas is an outlier and should never be counted for anything.
“We were all trained from a very young age the consequences of failing to put on the correct masks in public. Let’s just say that the scar on Viktor’s brow was done at his father’s hand, and I’m sure the rest of those boys have others in places that are easier to hide. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the reason we never see Zakery inanything but a long-sleeve jacket.” She rubs my arm, then falls back against my bed, staring at my dormant ceiling fan. Her long red hair pillows around her freckled face, waves a million times shinier and brighter than Little Red Riding Hood’s curls. “I met their family probably about a dozen years ago. I was young. Hormonal. And, wow.Them.They were like princes from fairytales. They were kind. They were…in no uncertain terms…the only men I had ever met who treated me like a person.”
I settle down beside her, propping my head against my hand. “Can’t relate.”
“You’ve never connected with someone like that? Trusted someone with hardly any reason to?”
I laugh, lie myself down when my chronic sore neck asks me what in the world I’m doing in this position. “Um. Besides you? No. You know how some people say they havetrust issues, but then you see them doing all sorts of things that beg to differ?”
“Yeah.”
“I genuinely, truly, and deeply have trust issues.”
“But you trusted me,” she offers.
I let silence breathe between us for a moment. “My soul knew you. And…you’re the only one I’ve ever felt this safe with.” My throat tightens. “I don’t know. You saw me, covered in coffee, grateful I hadn’t been burned, and you still said,yeah,that one; she’s friend material. I’m never gonna forget that. Even if you realize what a terrible mistake you’ve made someday and abandon me.”
Crimson’s hand latches around mine, clutching. “I will never abandon you. I saw you in business clothes, on your way to work, covered in something that stains. Instead of getting mad or panicking, you said, and I quote,Thank—” she cusses, “—for creamer.Befriending someone like that could never be a mistake. Learning about your vendettaagainst Viktor later shocked me because I swore from the moment we met you were the calmest, coolest, least vindictive person in the world. People would mess up around you all the time, inconveniencing you and even injuring you, and you’d shrug it all off. Like mistakes happen. No big deal. People are people. Life is life.”
“Well, yeah. Mistakes happen. Especially around me. They’re probably even my fault, all things considered. My beef with Viktor is that his thing wasn’t a mistake. At all. Assuming he actually read my entire book, he premeditated the four-paragraph response for a minimum of several hours. He deliberated his critique, and said something just short ofgive up. He made decisions. He chose to be cruel to someone who was entering his giveaway every single day. It wrecked me. He was the last person in this world that I dared to trust, and he hurt me. I havealwaysbeen vindictive toward those who intentionally hurt me. He put me through stages of grief, Crimson. I know I’ve stopped inanger, but I was in denial for months. It didn’t make sense that his books would be so full of everything that gave me life, while he wasn’t. I spent so long trying to figure out what I’d done wrong, how I might have offended him. I scoured the pages of my manuscript, looking for some horrid sin I’d missed editing out. But I never could find the answers. I never could discern what made me deserve his insult to all my efforts.”
