One
One
If my head pounded any harder, my skull would explode. At two o’clock, my jerk of a boss had piled loads of work on me and given me a deadline of five-thirty.
I was good at what I did, but I wasn’t that good. Editing was a painstaking, time-consuming process. It required not only time but care to ensure these documents were clean and ready for print. My neck screamed from hunching over the computer by nearly five o’clock.
“Chloe, how soon will those be ready?”
It was my boss, the assface. He never knocked. He just paraded in and out whenever he wanted like he owned the place. Hell, what was I talking about? He did. Own the place, that was. This was his magazine, his publication. And he let everyone know it on an hourly basis. The fucker.
“I’m working as hard and fast as I can, Mr. Hampton.”
“That’s not good enough. I need a time.”
I checked the clock on my computer. “Forty minutes, sir.”
“That’s past the deadline. I’m going to have to dock your salary.”
“But, sir, you didn’t give me enough time to get my job done.”
“I’m sure any of the other copy-editors would’ve gladly taken this assignment. Now snap to it.”
He clicked his fingers, and I swung my attention back to the computer screen as I thought about how much I would’ve liked to slap that smug face of his. He thought he was God sometimes. Make that all the time.
By the time I finished, forty-five minutes had lapsed from when Mr. Hampton stood in my office. The jackass probably wouldn’t pay me for the day. At least it was Friday, and I could go home and suck down lots of vodka to drown my sorrows. I definitely needed a different job.
I gathered my things and left, turning off the lights as I went. I marched down to the asshat’s office to let him know I was done.
Deciding what the hell, because I wasn’t going to get paid for this anyway, I walked right in and, lo and behold, my boss was otherwise occupied. He had himself a tiny party going on.
I held in a laugh as I said, “Uh, Mr. Hampton, just thought I’d let you know I’ve finished.”
He stood up so fast poor little Lucie from the admin pool, who’d been getting her you-know-what lapped up, nearly fell off of his desk.
“Ms. Landon, why didn’t you knock?” my boss asked.
“Oh, I don’t know.” I tapped my finger on my chin as if I had to think about it. “I guess I thought you’d want to know about this since you were so pressed for that deadline.” I offered up a sweet smile.
“Don’t let it happen again,” he snapped.
“What? Me not knocking or me catching you with your mouth buried in Lucie’s—”
“That’s enough, Ms. Landon. You can go.”
“Oh, Lucie, you might want to hold on from now on.”
I giggled as I left. That had been bold for me. Okay, maybe not. I was still a little shocked by Lucie Cole and Hugh Hampton doing the dirty. I mean he was hot. Every woman in the office talked about him. But his jackass attitude was so off-putting, who in their right mind would want to have anything to do with him? Maybe just to tease him, give him a bad case of blue balls, and then leave him hanging. Nothing more. Then again, apparently Lucie did.
When I got home, I fed Tom the cat. He wrapped himself around my ankles and purred, which was the most action I’d seen in a while. My job had put a serious dent into my social life, and I wasn’t getting paid for all the overtime I worked.
I changed out of the business suit that my prick of a boss demanded we wear. Afterwards, I brought out the vodka, but decided to go with tequila instead, figuring that would be the better choice to calm my addled nerves. I was in a terrible mood. But before I even got the first shot to my lips, the phone rang.
Checking the caller ID, I saw it was my best friend, Molly. “Molly girl, what’s happening, chica?”
“Take those sweats off, because I know that’s what you’re wearing, and get dressed. We’re going to the party of the year.”
“Urrgh. I can’t. I am too exhausted.”
“What did the jerk do this time?”
Molly knew all about Mr. Hampton, only because she was the recipient of my daily bitch sessions. I explained what had happened.
“Hmm. I love your exit strategy, though.”
I giggled again just thinking about it. “Yeah, it was good, right?”
“Priceless. But listen, stop wallowing. This party has ‘fun’ written all over it and trust me, my friend, the most eligible men are going to be there and we are going to have a blast.”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Jeremy is going.”
“Yeah?” Jeremy was one of our friends who we’d joked that we wouldn’t mind having a one-and-done with. He was super-hot.