Page 462 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Well, then I guess you can add this to my employee file.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “‘Adaptable. Self-starter. Walks into a situation and immediately⁠—'”

“Takes off her shirt?” he said with a smirk.

“‘—starts solving problems,’” I finished, pulling on my T-shirt. “Problem,” I said, gesturing to my coffee-soaked shirt, Vanna White–style. “Solved,” I concluded, gesturing to myself.

“I’ll make a note of it,” he said. “right after the singing stuff. And don’t forget the pornography.”

“Excuse me?” It came out in an indignant yelp.

The elevator finally slowed to a stop, and the asshole turned to me with a half-smile.

“‘Does that blush upon your cheeks mean I may continue my journey,’” he said in a low voice.

“What…what do you even mean—” I froze when I realized that he was quoting my audiobook. “Oh, come on. That was an accident!”

He shrugged a shoulder, standing in the doorway of the open elevator with his foot keeping it open.

“Will you get out of my way so I can get out already? I need to get to my workstation.”

“You may,” he replied, and moved his foot so the door closed before I could say anything back.

“Worst first day ever,” I groaned as I collapsed onto the floor, eyeing the suspicious stain on the corner of the area rug. Where had that come from? “And now you’re making me do pushups.”

“Technically, it wasn’t your first day,” Stephanie reminded me. “And it’s good to sweat out your frustrations. Five more, let’s go.”

I grunted my displeasure. “It was my first day with a brand-new asshole of a boss.” I raised myself into position again. As much as I hated training with Steph in our little family room, she was right: I always felt better once I was done.

“That James guy?” she asked, squatting beside me, to make sure I was getting low enough with each rep. “The one who gave you the job?”

My arms were screaming but I wasn’t about to give up. I wasn’t a quitter.

“No, James the hot asshole is my boss’s boss.” I knocked out a shaky pushup. “I report to a guy named Clint, and oh my fucking God, he’s the worst.” I paused at the top of the pushup to look at Steph. “Insulted me in every way possible. Said my work was amateurish, even though it’s exactly what got me promoted in the first place.”

Talking about Clint made me so mad that I managed to finish the last reps strong.

“Nice work,” Steph said, giving me a smack on my shoulder. “And that dude sounds like he sucks.”

“No kidding.” I rolled onto my back. “I asked a question about their approval process, and I swear to you, Steph, the guy laughed at me and said it was a stupid question! Like, in front of the entire team. On my first day.”

“Oof.” She plopped down next to me. “Not good.”

“Exactly! I was seriously having flashbacks to Dylan.”

“Dylan,” she sneered. “Worst boyfriend ever. I think you’ve got PTSD from that relationship,” Steph said. “So, are you going to quit?”

I lifted my T-shirt to wipe the sweat off my forehead. “I thought about it when Clint called me a hack, but then I remembered my new salary and swallowed my pride. Next semester’s tuition is due soon.”

“Can’t you, like, go up the chain of command? Talk to his boss or something?”

I choked out a laugh. “You mean James? Yeah, he hates me too.”

“Oh, come on,” Stephanie said. “He wouldn’t have given you the job if he hated you.”

I filled her in on the elevator situation, and she practically busted a gut laughing at me.

“I was wondering why you were wearing a different shirt when you got home! So, he saw your tits?”

“Steph, no! I was in my bra,” I explained, realizing that it didn’t make the situation any better.