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The angry woman downed the rest of her drink in one gulp and placed the glass on the bar with so much force it was a miracle it didn’t shatter into smithereens.
“I’m out of here,” she hissed. Then, loud and clear, “I’ve wasted enough time with you. Have a nice life, jerk!”
“Guess I was wrong about the tossed drink,” Mia said. “You never answered my question. Who is he?”
“My boss.”
Chapter Two
My boss.
Jonathan Cunttinham.
The president and CEO of Capital Drinks, the alcoholic beverage distribution company where I worked for the past two years as a junior marketing manager.
Unfortunately, the manager part of my title was a stretch at best. I managed no one and nothing unless you count keeping the copy machine filled with paper.
My days consisted of lots of grunt work, like scheduling all social media posts for a few of our spirits brands. I had high hopes I would have the opportunity to work closely with the charismatic man who interviewed me. Instead, no matter how hard I worked and tried to move up the ranks, I was always in the shadow of my direct manager. I felt completely invisible to Jonathan. Now and then, I swear I’d catch him eyeing me, and I’d think he finally noticed me. And every single time, I was wrong. After being disappointed more times than I could count, I had to admit the glances were nothing more than my overactive imagination.
At twenty-seven, I was ready for more responsibility and challenges, like creating campaigns. If I wanted to boost my career, I’d have to move on. The only problem was that would require me to actually work on my resume instead of watching Netflix or going shoe shopping every weekend. Worse than that, I would never have the opportunity to get to know Jonathan better.
I knew some public facts, like how he had been expected to take over the family business. In every interview I’ve read or press release I’ve proofread, Jonathan always joked about how the company had been built on bad decisions. Formed almost immediately after prohibition ended, his bootlegger great-grandfather’s calculated motivations for starting the company yielded excellent results. Although much has changed since the thirties, Jonathan’s methodology has increased revenue by more than tenfold.
While Jonathan was smart, successful, and super hot, he was always respectful and never cocky. He hides it well, but I could tell he worried a lot. When you spend so much of your workday as I do sneaking glances at your boss, you notice things. Like how he clasps his hands together, raising and lowering his fingers repeatedly when stressed.
Like he just did!
How weird I would find his vulnerability sexy.
“He’s your boss?” Mia asked, wide-eyed. “Interesting. Whenever you’ve spoken about him, you never once described his appearance. Based on his accomplishments and how you sang his praises, I always pictured him more buttoned up, older, and definitely not this easy on the eyes. Although, now that I’ve seen the man himself, I’m no longer surprised why your eyes always light up when you mention his name.”
“They do?” I tilted my head, glimpsing Jonathan as he stretched his arms in front of him. He wore a collared shirt that showed off his biceps. I loved the look. I tried to remember what I might have said about him over the years and came up blank.
“Yup. And don’t seem so shocked, sister dear. From day one, I’m sure you’ve noticed that a hottie signs your paychecks.”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far.” So what if he was six-foot-two, with a body that left no doubt he spent hours dedicated to the gym? Or had chiseled features, bright blue eyes, and dark hair with a sprinkling of grays?
Mia cleared her throat. “You are such a liar.”
I couldn’t help but blush.
My sister dramatically raised her left wrist. “Oh, my goodness. Will you look at the time? I should get going. I don’t want to keep Michael waiting.”
“You just got here. If you hop on the subway, you’ll get to him in ten minutes.”
“Subway? Blah. Don’t you know me better than that? Why would I want to be crammed in a tin can with all those people when I can walk to midtown and burn off the calories I’m sure I’ll consume later.”
“Um, maybe I thought spending time with your favorite and only sister would trump the few extra steps? Your cardio regimen is already off the charts.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Nice, but I already got a good dose of you, even though you’ve only been half-present with me.”
She had a point. “But I didn’t even finish my wine,” I said, failing to keep the whine out of my voice.
Mia placed her bag on her shoulder. “And you should. You don’t need to rush because I’m heading out. You’re a big girl. Stay as long as you like.”
“You’re right,” I said as a smile spread across my face.
Decision made. Instead of sitting here eavesdropping, I’m going to put on my big girl panties and say a proper hello to the boss man.
