The Boss Crush - Penny Wylder Page 0,18

button off, she tugs a pin from her hair and starts to work it through the buttonhole. “My mom taught me this trick. It works beautifully. No one will ever know it's broken.”

I feel the fabric as it pulls tight, then loosens, and then tight again. “There,” she says, smoothing her hands down over my shoulders. “All better, check it out.”

Looking in the mirror, I twist so I can see the back of the dress. “Oh my God, thank you, you're a life saver.”

She hops down off the sink and smirks. “I know.” Leaning back against the porcelain basin, she picks up my portfolio and thumbs through it. “I don't know why you're so worried. Look at these, they're incredible. I mean seriously, you're like a female Andy Warhol. If any of these companies out there don't want to hire you now, or draft you for after college, they're crazy.”

“These aren't scouts for football or something, Kira, it's graphic design. I'm not going to get drafted or anything.”

“Well, whatever the hell it is, they'd be stupid not to snag you now while they can.” Passing me the leather folder, she pushes the bathroom door open, and we both head into the hall.

“Yeah, well, fingers crossed they think the same as you do. These companies have big expectations, they're always looking for something special.” I step back, about to turn and head into the gym for the job fair, when I'm hit from behind.

“Hey, watch it!” Sandy says, lifting her head. Her expression is hard at first, then quickly changes. Her lips flare and her eyes turn to glass. “Oh, Dalia, I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you.”

I flash her an apologetic smile, like I'm at fault too. “Sorry, I didn't see you there.”

“It's fine, no worries.” She gives me her signature fake ass grin as her gaze drops to my hands. “What's that you got?” she asks.

“Oh, it's nothing,” I say, trying to slip it behind my back.

Sandy throws her arm out, snatching quickly before I can hide it away. “It doesn't look like nothing.”

“It's just my portfolio.” I attempt to take it back with a fast grab of my own, but she turns away from me and I only get a handful of air.

“Can I see it?” She isn't really asking, just like she isn't really waiting for an answer. Sandy opens the front cover and starts to thumb through it.

“Um. . .” My mouth wrinkles, unsure why she has this sudden interest in my art. “Sure.” Warily, I let my arms go limp as her eyes are in my folder.

I'm not going to fight her over it, not here, and not right now. The sooner she's done with whatever game she wants to play, the sooner I can get into the job fair. I have a goal, and I'm not going to let her get to me right now.

She flips through each page, one at a time, her eyes growing bright as she looks over my art. “You did all these?” She sounds surprised.

“Uh, yeah, I did.” Picking at my nails, I actually feel super nervous that she's looking at my stuff. She always has something to say, and it's never nice.

Her eyes jump up to mine, and her brows arch high. “These are really good, Dalia, like really, really good.”

Opening my eyes wide in surprise, I ask, “You think so?”

“Yeah, I actually do, they're incredible.” She's still flipping pages, her fingertips tracing thick lines, and sweeping over curves and around the sharp edge of the portrait she's open to.

“Thank you.”

Sandy closes the cover and hands me back the folder, then holds up a thoughtful finger. “Hey, would you be willing to look over my stuff, and maybe give me some tips? I mean, your art is so much better than mine. I would really appreciate it.”

Is she serious right now?

I stand stunned for a second, not sure how to answer. Sandy doesn't have a nice bone in her body. She's always treated me like shit. For her to ask for my help is sending up all kinds of red flags. This isn't who she is.

She smiles at me, her brows bouncing and head bobbing for me to say yes. “Please, I could really use some advice from someone with your eye and talent.”

That's the most genuine I've ever heard her. She's always so cruel, her voice always on the edge of annoyance. But the look in her eyes is so believable, I can't say no.

“Wow, yeah,