Page 13 of Over My Dead Boss
The hair in my neck stands, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t thrill me. “You seem like the person who is constantly annoyed.”
Dog barks excitedly as the tension between me and Phoenix rises.
“Four: Head scratches for Dog whenever she demands them.”
“Wait, Dog is a she?”
“Biologically, yes. Other than that, I don’t think she has much of a conception of gender. She is a dog, after all.”
“Smartass.” I sigh and pat Dog, who seems to get more and more excited. We continue to stare at each other for a few more seconds until Phoenix finally pulls back, stands up and straightens his shoulders.
“Fine,” I say and pry my now sweaty back off the leather. “Now my rules. One: You will write every day.”
“I decide when I write.”
“Two: I will edit what you write.”
“I am the only one who gets to edit my writing.”
“Three: I get to keep your car.”
“No.” He shakes his head.
“Four: You promise not to murder me.”
“I can promise to try.”
“You’re not secretly a famed architect, are you?”
“Not that I know of. Why?”
“Just trying to figure out if you’re secretly a serial killer.”
“I see,” he says. “Your methods might need some tweaking.”
“Anyway. Five: You agree to all my rules or I will call Isabella right now and invite her over. Does she even know about your secret cabin in the woods?”
Mr. Cyrus grumbles from deep within and I worry I might have overplayed my hand for a second. He’s gonna throw me out and I’ll have nothing to show for, no book deal, no island for Sienna.
“Okay, you can keep your car. All the other rules are non-negotiable.”
Another grumble and a slight nod follow as his fists visibly clench. “Fine. One book. I will write this one book for you and that’s it. Once you have the manuscript, I never want to see you again.”
By now, I can’t hide my excitement anymore. I get up from the chair and extend my hand in his direction. “Reporting for duty as your editor/assistant, Mr. Cyrus. I am looking forward to a fruitful working environment.”
Instead of my hand, he shakes his head and mutters a silentFuckunder his breath before declaring that he needs a stiff drink and walking off.
“We should put all of this in writing, right? To make it official. Or are you a dead man of your word? I guess this would be my job now. I’ll draw something up and you can sign it tomorrow, ok?”
My new old boss vanishes in the kitchen, and I resist the urge to text Sienna right away. Instead, I get started on my new duties. Everything on his desk that isn’t conducive to his writing endeavors goes in the trashcan, including a napkin with a number written on it in lipstick.There will be no time for romance as long as I am here. The sooner we can get this done, the sooner I will be out of here and a published author myself. Which reminds me that I really need to finish my own manuscript as soon as possible so that I can hand it in right away after finishing this mission, something that I didn’t think had a particularly high chance of succeeding until now.
“You better not drink too much of that,” I advise Mr. Cyrus as he pours himself another scotch. “We will begin tomorrow morning. 7 AM sharp. I’ll be expecting you with your juices flowing. Writing juices, that is, not the ones you’re downing right now.”
As Mr. Bossman continues to ignore me, I finish organizing his desk and draw up a quick contract by hand before returning to my room. To my surprise, I find he has already put the heavy bag from my car onto my bed and even neatly laid out some toiletries in the bathroom.Surprisingly considerate for a grump like him, I think. Must have been Nana who told him to do it.
I get ready for bed, shoot a quick message to Sienna, telling her to give our cat a kiss from me, and for the second time in a row fall asleep without worrying about a thing in the world, which, to the best of my knowledge, is unprecedented. Who could have known that all it takes for me to fall asleep in peace is blackmailing my former idol to help me save his former company.
Unfortunately, even all of that can’t prevent the inevitable and a couple of hours later I awake, drenched in sweat, panting hard. Patting around in the dark, I search for Sienna until I realize where I am. We sleep in the same bed because neither of us can afford a bigger apartment in the city, but having her next to me is always a welcome help whenever I get my nightmares. Her snoring has an almost meditative effect on me and usually helps me fall back asleep whenever I dream of zombies eating me. When I finally fall back asleep, the sun is already dawning and after a quick power nap, my alarm goes off. 6.30 AM, and despite the opposite being true, I actually feel like I have had the most relaxing night in a long time. Eager to start the day, I take a quick shower, brush my teeth and get very annoyed at myself when I sift through the options of clothing I brought along. Instead of something professional or at least attractive, I packed a bunch of baggy t-shirts in anticipation of having to spend a couple of days living in my car. I will have to figure something out to fix this. He’s already not taking me seriously and looking like a person who lives in their car won’t necessarily help my case. It may not be my appearance that makes me a professional, but looking the part usually makes people think you probably are.
