Page 15 of Grumpy Boss


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“Rees!” Mirko said, hugging me. He smelled like vodka. “And you brouht your assistant, who seems to be more than an assistant.” His eyes twinkled, delighted. “Hello again, Millie.”

“Hello, Mirko.” They shook hands.

“We’re no more than friendly colleagues,” I said, smiling at Millie, who had the good sense to look away like she was embarrassed. The girl could act pretty well, for a lawyer at least.

“Oh right, of course, very friendly. I kiss all my employees on the mouth.” Mirko winked at me, and for one disgusted second, I believed him.

“Your place is nice,” Millie said. “I love the design. All the glass.”

“It was my idea,” Mirko said. “I wanted it to seem like a winter paradise. Glass, and ice, it’s all the same, yes? So white, and glass, snow and ice. I think it came through.”

It didn’t. I wouldn’t have guessed anything about a winter paradise, if he hadn’t just said that, but I smiled and nodded and pretended like he wasn’t bullshitting completely.

“Did you think about our conversation from yesterday?” I asked him, leaning in close to be heard over the pounding music.

“You want to talk business here, like this?” He gestured around like that wasn’t what he’d been doing all night already. “Come now Rees, it’s a party. I’ve never seen you truly let loose, you know.”

That was because I never did. Parties, clubs, they weren’t my thing. I had my work, I made my money, and I kept to myself most of the time. I hated going to crowded places—too many people knew my face. I got recognized far too often, and was constantly sucked into conversations I desperately wanted to avoid. If I had it my way, I’d never leave the house. That would be ideal.

Unfortunately, most of the world did business face to face.

“I’m a very boring man,” I said, glancing toward Millie, who had a smile painted on her lips. “What do you think? The SPAC’s going to be successful, and if it weren’t for the bad publicity—“

“Yes, yes, I know,” Mirko said, waving me off. I hated to be interrupted, but I held my tongue. “I thought about it, spoke with my lawyer and my investment manager, and I think I can write you a check. Really though Rees, you should hire better people. Letting something slip like an affair with a pop star, it’s a very bad look for you.”

“It wasn’t true,” I said, but he didn’t seem like he cared.

“Come up to my private table in an hour,” Mirko said, waving at someone across the crowd. “I’ll write you a check.”

I wanted to tell him to write it now, but he was already walking off. He hugged and kissed a big woman in a sparkling black dress, and I was left grinding my teeth.

“What did he say?” Millie asked, coming close again.

“An hour,” I said, “and he’ll write a check.”

She made a face like, that’s pretty good, right?

I shook my head, moved my lips to her ear. “That’s one whole hour in which he could get too drunk, or he could change his mind. It’s not good enough.”

“Want me to talk to him?” she asked, putting a hand on my arm.

“No,” I said quickly. “No, it’s fine, we don’t need that.”

“Let me give it a try,” she said, slipping past me, moving toward him through the crowd already.

I cursed and went to follow her, but she seemed determined. Maybe it was the glass of wine she drank, or maybe it was the comfort of being in a packed room, but she didn’t seem to hesitate this time, despite how uncomfortable Mirko made her.

I was slightly proud, and more than a little horrified, but she reached him as he broke off from the big woman and started away again, touching his arm, and tugging him back.

I watched from afar, like a passenger on a plummeting jet. The room continued to move around me, but my world was sucked into one small moment: Millie, standing close to Mirko, saying something.

And Mirko’s hand moving up to her arm, then around to the small of her back. He leaned in, said something.

She smiled, an awkward, tense smile, and her eyes darted to me. I took a step closer.

But too late. Mirko’s hand moved down and cupped her ass, and he said something else. Her mouth fell open as he squeezed, his face turned up into a horrible sneer.

The problem with Millie’s plan was, Mirko didn’t give a fuck if he sexually harassed her in public. He was rich, and this was his party. Nobody would say a word, or even consider throwing him out, and if Millie follow through on her plan to slap him, then she’d get blamed for the whole thing.

I stormed forward, rage moving through me like a thundercloud. His hand lingered on her ass, and she seemed frozen between disbelief and disgust. He said something again, still grinning, and I grabbed his arm, wrenching him away from her.

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