Page 11 of Grumpy Boss


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“Rees, you came,” he said, setting aside the paper. “Did you say hello to Louisa? She loves you, you know, you old dog. I bet she’d have your babies. And you brought me a present, look at this time.” His voice was deep, almost rumbling, with an odd southern-seeming accent, clipped consonant, elongated vowels. He stood, and was a few inches shorter than Rees, but still towered over me.

“This is my assistant, Millie,” he said.

I reached out a hand and Mirko took it. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Poma,” I said.

“Call me Mirko, all these fuckers do.” He squeezed my hand hard and grinned savagely. “Millie, what a pretty nice, and what a pretty girl.”

“We came to talk to you, Mirko,” Rees said, stepping forward. Mirko tore his gaze from me and removed his hand, and I felt like I’d been lined up in front of a crowd and summarily judged.

“Of course, why else show up for the meeting we scheduled?” Mirko laughed and gestured at the benches. “Come on, sit down, join me. It’s a nice day.”

He returned to his spot. Rees sat on the bench to his right, and I sat next to Rees, leaving a gap between us. I crossed my legs and kept my back straight, and I caught Mirko looking at me, a slight frown on his lips like he wasn’t sure what to make of me. I returned his look, forcing myself not to glance away. I’d met men like him before, in law school—petty men that thought they could push be around, since I was a woman.

Rees didn’t treat me like that. He certainly messed with me, and tried to knock me from my comfort zone, but I never got the sense that it had anything to do with my gender, but more just the way he treated everyone. I actually liked that about him—he was a dick, but he was a dick equally to all.

“I assume you’ve heard about my SPAC,” Rees said, jumping in, skipping any of the normal formalities that might revolve around the courtship of an investor.

“Oh, sure, sure,” Mirko said. “Blank check company. Get a bunch of rich bastards to give you money and hope you make good investments. Seems like a lot of trust in you.”

“For good reason,” Rees said. “I’m guessing you heard about what happened with Giana.”

I grimaced and stared down at my hands. I hadn’t expected him to mention that up front, but it seemed as though he didn’t want to play games or mince words. I suspected Mirko might approve of that.

“Of course. You fucked her, yes? You did, didn’t you?” Mirko laughed deeply. “You sick bastard. Her husband’s in parliament.”

“I didn’t fuck her,” Rees said, an edge to his voice. “I’ve been seeing someone for over a month now. Giana was a friend, that’s all. Her husband’s a tiny cock.”

“Yes, well, politician.” Mirko took a long sip from his coffee and glanced toward me, then back to Rees. “This Millie here, she’s a new one. I’ve not seen her before.”

“She is new,” Rees agreed. “And she can confirm that the Giana story is bullshit.” He glanced at me, and I nodded along.

“Total bullshit,” I said.

“Well then, I am very much convinced,” Mirko said, eyes glittering with amusement. I wondered how well he knew Rees, or if they were simply distant acquaintances. I couldn’t tell if Mirko talked like this to all of his friends, or only to a person like Rees.

“We lost investors because of the Giana rumor,” Rees said. “And you know how the SPAC game goes. The more investors you have, the better deals you can pull. I’m looking for fresh blood.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Mirko said, tilting his head. “You’re here for the pocketbook. It’s always the pocketbook, isn’t it not?” He looked at me, leaning forward. “I’m guessing you now something of this, of wanting to be used.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” I said, shifting slighting in my seat, suddenly cold and uncomfortable. A breeze came down off the buildings and stirred some leaves off the ground. Nearby, cards honked, shrill and difficult, and Mirko’s gaze pinned me there, unflinching. “I don’t have any money.”

“No, but you have other things that men want.” Mirko’s tone was lascivious and suggestive, and I leaned back away from him, trying not to let my outrage show. I was a god damn lawyer—or at least I’d gone to law school. Yes, men treated me like I was some toy they wanted to fuck, but that didn’t matter, men were men, and some were pieces of shit, like apparently Mirko was.

“Enough,” Rees said, before I could speak up, surprising me. “You don’t need to talk to her that way, Mirko. We can be civil.”

“Civil,” Mirko said, grinning again like he hadn’t said something inappropriate. “Yes, of course, of course. I went too far, and for that, I apologize.”

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