Page 8 of Boss of Me
Just as I rise to my feet, she suddenly stops and pulls her phone out of her purse. She frowns at the screen.
Oh shit. Oh fuck.
She looks across the bar and meets my eyes. My mouth runs dry, and I realize I’m not breathing.
She holds up a finger as if to sayI’ll be right back. Then she brings the phone to her ear and turns to head back down the hall at the same moment I hear a voice exclaim, “No fucking way. Thatcan’tbe Pantheon’s CEO.”
A pang of dread punches me in the gut before I turn to see a dudebro in a backward baseball cap ambling toward me.
I smother a groan. Great. Just what I need.
He reaches my table, grinning like a maniac. “Holy shit, Ithoughtthat was you!” He extends his hand. “Topher. I’m a huge fan, Mr. Ransom.”
“Nice to meet you.” I shake his hand, hoping to get rid of him before Marlowe returns.Ifshe returns.
He grins. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw you sitting here. What’re you doing slumming in this dump? You’re, like, a trillionaire.”
“Not quite.” I force a smile edged with impatience. “Listen, Christopher?—”
“Topher. Just Topher.” He wrinkles his nose. “I hate Christopher. What a douchey name.”
“That’s my grandfather’s name.”
His face goes red. “Oh, crap. I-I didn’t mean to?—”
“Just kidding. Look, I’m kind of in the middle of something important here?—”
“Oh, my bad. Didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just heading out to meet some friends at another bar when I saw you. Had to come over and shake your hand.”
“No problem,” I say, keeping an eye out for Marlowe.
Topher grabs a cocktail napkin from the table. “Can I get your autograph?”
“Sure.” I pat my breast pocket. “Damn. Got a pen?”
“Ah, shit. I don’t.” He looks around. “Maybe someone?—”
I don’t have time for this. “How about a selfie? That’s better than an autograph scrawled on a bar napkin, right?”
“Yeah, definitely.” He whips out his phone, grinning as he says, “My boys wouldn’t believe I met you unless they saw proof.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “Exactly.”
Barely a second after we snap the selfie, I spot Marlowe coming down the hall. A jolt of panic shoots through me.
“I’d love to come work at Pantheon when I graduate college next year,” Topher says with a hopeful grin. “Do you think?—”
“Call my office on Monday. Tell my assistant we met and you’re interested in an internship. We’ll set up an interview.”
His eyes widen comically. “Holy shit. For real?”
“For real.”Now scram before you blow my cover!
“Thank you so much,” he enthuses, pumping my hand. “It was so awesome to meet you!”
“Likewise.”
Topher walks away happy as a clam, passing Marlowe on her way back to the table.
