Page 17 of The Boss and the Wedding Mess
"First impressions matter. I expect my employees to behave properly even in private settings and not leave a bad impression."
"Yet you're the one treating me unfairly right now."
"These are merely the consequences of your actions," I counter, leaving her standing there speechless.
What now, Princess? How are you going to get out of this situation? Are you gonna cry and tell me about your difficult childhood? Did you grow up without a father and have to assert yourself as a little sister against older brothers? Is that what made you so tough?
Are you gonna yell at me now? Tell me what a miserable bastard I am and that I should rot in hell?
Or are you gonna beg for forgiveness again and plead with me not to be so mean to you?
Hmm, there's still a fourth option: Maybe you'll strip and offer yourself to me?
"You want war? Fine, you can have it." After one threatening look, she freezes. Then she leaves the room—and no, she doesn’t slam the door. She probably just remembered her promise to my father to show me around the company.
She pauses like a statue while I sit smirking, waiting for her to turn back. And turn back she does. She straightens, pushes the door open again, and steps back.
As she does, she addresses me with a punishing glare: "I'm just going to bring Mr. Blackthorn..."
"Arthur," I correct her with a cold look.
"...his coffee quickly. Then I'll come back and show you the company, sir."
She's so stubborn. Like a mule. Maybe I shouldn't call her Princess, but Little Mule? As she walks away with her nose turned up, I notice her firm ass. Really a shame she didn't choose the fourth option.
Now the real question is: what do I do with her? Only two real choices—give her a fair chance, or amuse myself over the next few weeks and toss her out in the end.
Option three would be to get her into bed. Just once.
Smiling, I fall back into the armchair and start pondering. It would be very tempting. But I'm not a monster.
I think I’ll let her decide. I’ll watch. And at the end of the week, I’ll know whether she deserves a chance or whether I’ll have my fun instead. It's up to her.
Chapter 7
London
I’m going to poison this arrogant jerk. Slip something in his coffee, push him out the window—I don’t care how, but he has to go. I didn’t work three years to hand everything over to his son.
With fresh coffee in hand, I walk into Mr. Blackthorn Senior’s office.
“Sir? May I ask you something?”
“Is this about your probation period, Miss Waverley?”
“Honestly, yes. I’m afraid your son isn’t exactly fond of me and…”
“May I be frank with you, Miss Waverley?” he interrupts, taking a sip.
“Of course, Sir.” I stay standing by his desk, hoping he’ll give me some reassurance.
“If he were to fire you, it would be the stupidest decision he could ever make.”
“I’m honored you’d say that.” But…
“But?” He reads my thoughts.
“I love my job, and I’ll miss you as my boss, if I may say so. You’re very hard to replace.”
