Office Grump An Enemies to Lovers Romance - Nicole Snow Page 0,19
concur. So, no more holdups?”
“I’m ignoring you so I can finish this interview,” she says. Her eyes connect with mine. “Do you have any experience as an executive assistant or an executive-level secretary?”
I shake my head. “My experience is all graphic design if you don’t count summer jobs in fast food and groceries. I’ve made a lot of memes.”
Beside me, Magnus leans his elbow on the desk and covers his mouth.
Oh, God. Is he hiding a smile?
I know what he’s thinking. Cat memes.
Probably remembering his pathetic cat-toonist jab that wouldn’t make a twelve-year-old laugh.
“Where do you see yourself in five years, Miss Bristol?” she asks.
“Still thankful I survived today,” I say.
Oops. Wrong answer.
Ruby raises an intrigued brow at Heron. He motions her to continue, an impatient scowl tugging at his handsome face.
“And your greatest weakness?” Ruby asks.
I gnaw on my lip, trying hard this time to come up with the right response. Finally, I say, “Right now, the forty-something bucks left in my bank account.”
Magnus shifts again and slaps his hands on the table.
“Enough. Ruby, you of all people know I don’t appreciate wasting time. Get the damn paperwork signed. Now.”
My eyes flick to this rich, built, and bad-tempered grump and those hot blue eyes catch mine. They’re bright enough to sear me in my seat.
I think that’s when I know.
I am being punked.
Only, it turns out I’m doing it to myself by wading neck-deep into this insanity.
4
Old Alma Mater (Magnus)
“One problem.” Ruby smiles at me, winding herself up to enjoy what’s next. “Sabrina Bristol hasn’t agreed to anything just yet.”
My jaw tightens.
Miss Bristol sits beside me, staring at me wide-eyed, all big brown-eyed beauty and rosy innocence I can’t afford to dwell on.
However, I also can’t wait to slam her with the more than two hundred emails I haven’t gotten to today. Just because I need a good EA doesn’t mean I’m above enjoying myself.
Sweet revenge for trashing my Italian shoes.
I’d love to stick around and enjoy her shock in person, but I have to take the afternoon off. To the rest of the world, I’m doing a literary event—a charity sort of thing—one of many HeronComm initiatives to improve my dire image in the media and the company’s.
To me, it’s a bit more personal.
“Does Miss Bristol have any objections with the position?” I snap, tenting my fingers.
Ruby opens her mouth like she’s going to speak, but I don’t let her get a word out.
“Is she a serial swindler, an arsonist, or an axe murderer?”
Ruby runs a hand through her hair, wrinkling her nose. “If she is, she’s doing it in style.”
“Exactly. Tell her to sign the contract, then, so she can get to work and we can finish this nonsense. I need her today,” I growl.
Miss Bristol gazes at me with those dark-chocolate eyes gleaming. “You...you do realize I’m still here, right? You don’t have to talk about me in third person, you know.”
Amusement wars with raw agitation in my blood. I chase back a grin.
That feisty, take-no-shit attitude was cute at the park and landed her a job offer, but she’s not bringing it into my office.
“That’s the second time you’ve told me what to do since I came into the room. We need to get something straight if you want to work here,” I tell her, locking eyes. “I’m the boss. You work under me. You won’t be using that spear of a tongue unless I want it put to work. Got it?”
Before she can answer, enjoying the stricken, red-faced contempt souring her angelic face, I fold my arms on the table and lean into her personal space.
“Now do you want this job or not?”
She glares at me, pushes her chair back, and stands. “You know, on second thought, I don’t think I need to debase myself by working—”
Ridiculous.
She can’t be serious, can she?
“Think fast before you walk.” I can’t fucking help it, I laugh. “Not many people get a job with Cadillac health insurance right out of college, and two-hundred-thousand-dollar salaries don’t show up every day, especially for graphic designers from purr-niture companies.”
Her face goes deeper red and her jaw pinches, but she takes a deep breath, then hisses it out as her soul leaves her body. “Wait, what? Did you...did you say two hundred thousand dollars? Per year?”
The look she gives me turns my balls into overgrown Alaskan blueberries.
I don’t know what it is about this girl—actually, I do, it’s the feistiness—but I want her bad.