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It dawns on me. That’s the point.
That’s why he was being so pleasant. He was purposely luring me into a false sense of security. My boss wants me to trip over my own two feet, failing at his request. Perhaps he's hoping to write me up for failing to come through with an assignment. Although, if I brought this to HR, no way his case would stand. Any reasonable person would see this is absurd. No…I know exactly what he’s doing.The jackass.
He wants to piss me off enough to quit.
A smarter girl would cut her losses and just find another job. My salary advance is generous, but it’s not a lottery win. Surely there’s another job in this city that would be a better fit than working for a sexy incarnation of Hades himself. But you know what?
I want to put this fucker in his place.
I’msopissed off. Because he’s pretending he doesn’t remember me. Because he’s weaponizing avoidant behavior. But mostly I’m angry because… I don’t know. I still want the Nate I met at House of Blues—the one who had my heart skipping beats like it never had before. I’m convinced the broody jerk occupying the office in front of me stole Nate and is hiding him in a basement somewhere.
Not even Cowboy Caleb from earlier today was sending shivers up my spine. Even if he is scrumptious…he wasn’t Nate.
I pull the mini donuts from my purse and tuck them in my top drawer. I’ll let the little treats go stale, but Caleb’s name and number is the reminder I need that not all hot, single men are evil.
All right. Now, back to the task at hand: outsmarting the bosshole.
I grab my phone and scroll through my contacts. Las Vegas has all the celebrity chef franchise restaurants, but calling the reservation desks will get me nowhere in a little over twenty-four hours. I have to know somebody who knows somebody. I’m not rich or important, but I’ve spent the last few years of my life proving myself to very rich and important people who practically beg me to call in favors. Nathan made a grave mistake in underestimating me.
First call? The big kahuna—Dex Hessler. My prior boss’s boss. My other prior boss’s husband. And a bona fide billionaire good guy. As the phone rings, I press against the bridge of my nose which is still tender and aching. But that’s to be expected.
When you go to war, you have to anticipate at least a little pain.
It’s eight p.m., and Charlie is at least fed and in her room, on her iPad, while I’m banging my head against the kitchen table. Ten hours of doom after that email from him hit my inbox, I still have no solution to his “assignment.” To make matters worse, I’m less than thrilled when Nathan’s “name” pops up on my screen.
Bosshole
Checking in.
Me
Isn’t it past ten at night where you are?
Bosshole
Yes. Is it inappropriate to be texting this late?
Me
Yes. What do you need?
Bosshole
I was wondering who you secured for tomorrow evening?
Me
Don’t you want to be surprised?
Bosshole
Not particularly. Let me know if I need a backup plan.
Me
I believe I responded to your email informing you I’d handle it.
Bosshole