Page 459 of Manhattan Bossholes

He sounded so condescending, like he was talking to a child, and it set me off, compliment or not.

“Why should I thank you for a statement of fact? I know I’m talented,” I snarked back at him.

He shook his head and chuckled. “And no shortage of confidence, clearly.”

“Whatever,” I said. “I’m not interested in selling my designs. I want a job where I can create and grow, not just hand over my work.”

I took a step closer to James and held my hand out.

“I’m thinking…no.” He brought my notebook to his chest and folded his arms over it.

“But you can’t…that’s my property! I’m going to report…” I sputtered in shock, panic rising in my chest. Maybe it actually did belong to him since I’d occasionally stolen a few minutes at work to adjust a sketch or two?

“Miss Reynolds, would you please pipe down and listen to me for a moment?” He waited for me to stop freaking out and face him. “I’m trying to move Branson Designs in a new direction, and based on your sketches I think you might be the way to make it happen.”

All I cared about was getting my precious sketchbook back now, so whatever he was saying to me wasn’t registering. Could I grab the thing from his hands and take off running? The sidewalk was slowly filling with people who just finished up their graveyard shifts, or were clocking in for a long day ahead, which meant I could blend in within a block or two. Maybe his gigantic-ness would slow him down? My brain spun out in dirt bike circles as I imagined trying to recreate my work if the asshole decided to keep it. No, that would be impossible. Catastrophic. I felt a little lightheaded and couldn’t focus, because damn he seemed to be taking forever to get to his point.

“Miss Reynolds, I’d like to offer you a promotion—out of the shop and into the design studio.”

My jaw fell open. That I heard.

“You mean you’re un-firing me?”

He tilted his head and squinted at me. “I don’t recall ever saying that you were fired. That was all you. In fact, you seemed quite eager to see yourself let go.”

“But…” I pointed to my key card on the ground a few feet behind me. “It doesn’t work.”

He pulled his out of his jacket pocket. “Mine doesn’t either. Company-wide systems glitch. It’ll be fixed in an hour. If you’d given me a minute to explain, we could’ve avoided much of the confusion, as well as you telling me how much you despise me.”

I felt my cheeks go hot.

“So, let’s try this again,” James said, still clutching my notebook to his chest.

I blinked a few times, trying hard to follow him because nothing was making sense right now. I mean, Bossman was right, I had just told him that I despised him. Maybe this was another way for him to fuck with me? Say he wanted to promote me, then laugh at me when I actually believed the offer?

“Miss Reynolds,” James continued, still staring at me in that unblinkingly intense way. I forced myself to stare back with an unreadable poker face. “Can you put your hatred aside and consider discussing a new position working alongside me?”

He drummed his fingers on my precious notebook while he waited for me to respond.

Something toggled in my chest, and it felt a lot like hope. Maybe he wasn’t playing with me, and he was about to give me the break I was so desperate for?

I was about to work up the courage to say yes when he continued.

“One condition, though.”

“And that is…?” I replied slowly, not even hiding my suspicion.

He pulled a key ring out of his pocket and headed for the front doors. “Don’t you ever, ever sing in my presence again. Got it?”

He unlocked the door and slipped inside in one smooth motion, leaving me stewing on the sidewalk with the knowledge that while I would happily take the position, I would never not despise this man.

4

JAMES

“What the hell, man? Were you still in bed?”

My brother leaned against the door to his apartment and squinted at me like the hallway light was hurting his eyes. “Maybe.”