Page 9 of The Boss I Can't Stand

“He doesn’t like strong, sassy women, and you’ve already lost out on the position, so why bother playing nice? At least have some fun before he throws you out on your ass.”

“That’s…” I sighed. “Not especially comforting.”

She released my hand, miming. “You could always stab him with your fabric scissors as a show of dominance if he gets out of line.”

“Ro!” I said, scandalized. Not at the violence but at the potential danger to my beloved scissors. They were being willed in a gold box to my future children. “Maybe I could just jam a couple of pins into his hand instead.”

Ro smirked. “I liked my idea better.”

My phone started buzzing, and I glanced at it. It was the alarm for my interview. I jumped to my feet. “Oh, I’ve gotta run.”

“Here,” Ro said, standing and picking loose threads off me. “Go show Finn Lockhart what you’re made of.”

“Mostly Kansas corn?”

Ro laughed, shoving my purse and keys into my hands. “We’ll work on it.” She pushed me out the door. “Good luck! You’re going to rock this.”

I headed for my junker car in the parking lot, clinging to her confidence in me. I was going to need it.

4

SIERRA

Iarrived at the Hart of Gold Productions offices in Burbank with ten minutes to spare. Once you got past the security gate, there was a main office building surrounded by workshops and warehouses and studios. It was a massive operation, but I’d spent my fair share of time working for studios these past ten years, and I no longer got flustered by the chaos.

I pulled down the sun visor to make sure my lip gloss was intact and my hair was presentable. I was almostpolished—until I ran my hand down my front and realized I still had my fabric scissors tucked into the pocket of my jacket.

“Shit,” I muttered, stashing them safely in the glove box.

I hopped out of the car and rushed inside where I was directed to a conference room. Just outside of it, a young woman with a short brown bob sat in a swivel chair at a small desk. She was so absorbed in a book, she hardly noticed my approach until I was standing in front of her. “Hi, uh, Sierra Banks. I’m here for an interview.”

The woman looked up, clearly startled, and I recognized what she was reading.

“Every Day Is Sunday!” I said, pointing at the cover.

A smile lit up her face. “Have you read it?”

“Gosh, yes,” I said. “Idevouredit. Have you gotten to the part where they sneak out of that wild society party together?”

“It was so intense,” she agreed. “And when they were hiding in that cellar, waiting to see if they would be caught by the rival gang!”

“I know, the romantic tension between them! Mmm…I just loved it.”

“Brenna!” an unpleasantly familiar voice snapped.

We both jumped in response. Brenna’s face turned bright red as Finn Lockhart himself stepped out of the conference room. He adjusted his suit jacket, and I tried not to notice how perfectly it had been tailored to fit him, but I couldn’t help myself. There was just something about the way he stood there, arms casually crossed, like he was waiting to be shot forGQ. I swallowed hard.Focus, I told myself.

“I texted to tell you to send her in when she arrived!” Finn said.

“Sorry, Mr. Lockhart!” Brenna squeaked. “She’s here now.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

I tried not to grimace at the look on Finn’s face. This was not a great start to the interview. No doubt Finn would blame me for distracting Brenna and keeping her from noticing his text. Another strike against me.

That made two so far.

“You can go in,” Brenna whispered as I stood there awkwardly.