My Boss's Husband - Cassandra Dee Page 0,26
into a lemon. Clearly, Karen doesn’t want to be doing this, and wishes I were dead. I instantly do not like her. She’s skinny and rude and reminds me far too much of my mother but what choice do I have?
Silently, I follow her through the labyrinth of Kombuchaid headquarters and end up completely lost by the time we arrive at my desk. It’s my own little gray corner of office hell, and I wonder if I’m being punished for something. There are probably shackles under the desk, come to think of it, although I force myself not to look.
“Um, thanks,” I mutter.
“Only the best for Brent’s daughter,” Karen says with an ugly twist to her mouth. “There’s nothing for you to do right now, but I’m sure you can occupy your time with your phone or something.”
I nod tightly.
“I’m happy to do whatever is needed, Karen. I can run copies or go get coffee if you like.”
Her sharp laugh is more like a bark. I turn to see if anyone heard, but there’s no one in the office yet.
“No, it’s fine. I’m sure you’ll find something to do. Just sit here, okay? That’s it. That’s the job.”
God, why is this woman such a bitch? I didn’t ask to be the boss’s daughter.
“Thanks,” I say tightly. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“Great,” she says coldly before disappearing down a hallway.
I’m pretty shocked at how openly hostile Karen is. I mean, who acts like that straight off the bat? Clearly, she’s got a chip on her shoulder from something or other.
But I don’t want to make a big deal of it because I don’t want everyone to think I’m that girl. There’s no sense in starting off the summer as the rich bitch who’s also the boss’s spoiled daughter. As a result, I decide to keep my head down. I get acquainted with my computer, clicking around on some random folders. There are no emails yet, which is good. Then, I read a bit of the company manual, but it’s exceedingly boring. So I do as Karen suggested: I pop out my phone and play around a bit. Candy Crush keeps me occupied for fifteen minutes, but then I get bored of that too. I try angling the phone for a selfie, but it’s too depressing. There’s too much gray between my suit and the cloth-covered walls. Tomorrow, I’m going to bring a few succulents to spice this place up because right now, it’s just too blah.
To my surprise, an hour passes and then two. No one comes around to say hi or introduce themselves either, so I decide to head to the bathroom. After relieving myself, there’s still nothing to do, so I decide to take myself on a tour of this place. I’ve been to Kombuchaid headquarters before, of course, but it was always with my dad and we pretty much just stuck to the reception area and his office. This time, I’ll show myself around a bit.
The building is huge, with several floors, and there aren’t any access codes or badges needed in the elevator, so I’m able to roam freely. Strange. I decide to start at the bottom, in the basement. But when I get down there, the elevator opens to what appears to be a construction site.
“Hello?” I call in a moderately loud voice. My voice seems to echo into the quiet.
Then, I step outside and begin to make my way around the construction. There’s plastic sheeting on some of the storage boxes to protect them from all the dust and grime, and the furniture is bound in saran wrap. There’s a ton of dust flying in the air, and I cough a bit, masking my nose and mouth. Damn. I swear the plaster’s getting in my air passages. Maybe I should just go back.
But then I see a women’s restroom and duck inside. Thank god. It appears relatively clean, without the layer of dust covering everything. I look at myself in the mirror, and see my tousled hair and rosy cheeks, not to mention the smart gray suit. Damn, why isn’t Gray here? I wish he could see me like this, when I’m wearing a professional outfit with an ID badge dangling from my waist. Would he laugh? Would he chuck me on the chin, and call me “sweetheart” again? I grow warm inside just at the thought.
God. Gray Jamison. Dammit, why do I keep having to think of him? I haven’t seen him in ages, but