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“I’m going to have to bring him in and out for walks,” I say as I image search ‘pug puppies’ one more time. Our desks are attached and facing each other, so I can gaze at the puppies without Eddie’s prying eyes. “And my landlord lives downstairs.”
“That’s easy,” Eddie says as he pulls out his empty pocket and wipes the spilled coffee with it. “Hide him in your jacket.”
“What about in summer?”
“Under your dress?” he says with a shrug.
I sigh as I turn back to the puppies. It’s hopeless. I’ll never get one.
I want one so badly though…
“Heads up,” the bubbly receptionist Jane says as she pops her head into our office. “The Comedian is on the way.”
“Shit,” I whisper as I open a contract, smooth out my hair, sit up straight, and switch my music from Taylor Swift to something old and classical, all at the same time.
The Comedian is our boss, Mr. Seinfeld. We call him The Comedian because of his name obviously, and ironically because he’s the most unfunny person in the world. He’s mean and would crack a skull before he’d ever crack a joke.
“Miss Hoover,” his deep voice bellows from behind me.
My heart starts pounding as I turn around with a forced smile. “Hi, Mr. Seinfeld. I love that tie.”
He frowns as he looks at it. “My wife bought it at Costco. Orange juice spilled on it while it was in the trunk.”
“Well, you can’t even hardly notice!” I say with a weird high-pitched laugh.
An image of him sitting at his breakfast table scowling at the orange juice carton while eating his cereal pops into my mind.
“I took a look at your proposals,” he says with a stern glare.
Oh god. This is it!
I’ve been working here for six years and I’ve been desperate to get ahead. This is my shot. I can feel it.
We make high-end luxurious custom closets and Mr. Seinfeld has been looking to expand his very profitable business into some new locations. I jumped at the opportunity and wrote up proposals for five new cities. It took forever to research, but I think I did a good job. At least, I hope I did. And I’m really hoping he’s going to consider me to be the one to run the new branch once it gets the green light.
“Not good,” he says bluntly. My stomach drops. My head spins. I might puke all over The Comedian’s Costco shoes.
“Wha—?” I gasp, not able to finish the word I’m so shocked.
He tosses the files onto my desk and they land with a slap. “All saturated markets and we have no edge to help start us off with a bang.”
“Can I… try again?”
He looks like a big Muppet as he frowns at me with those bushy eyebrows and large forehead. “Bring me one more city. And Miss Hoover, it better be the one.”
I feel nauseous as he walks away.
Now, I really want a puppy to cuddle.
“Crashed and burned,” Eddie says from the other side of the computer. “Can we turn off the Mozart crap now?”
I sigh as I turn Taylor Swift back on, not knowing what to do.
My mind blanks as I lazily check my phone. Mr. Seinfeld makes us keep them locked away, but right now, I don’t care that I’m breaking protocol.
“What the hell?” I whisper when I see that my phone has blown up. Thirty-six texts? Did someone die?
“What. The. Fuck,” Eddie says way too loud for an office. His shocked head pops up over my computer screen. “Sebastian Kemp?! You’re engaged to Sebastian fucking Kemp?!”
