揥hat??My smile contorts into a frown.
揅learing the air was your idea, boss. You say you have this wonderful reason for desperately needing four dozen cinnamon rolls, but you can抰 say what it is. I抎 be willing to bet five hundred dollars to a Regis roll the reason doesn抰 exist梠h, wait! Only one person in this room is rich enough to make a bet as uneven as that, though, and it certainly isn抰 me.?
揑t exists,?I growl.
揇oes it??I hear her heel tap the floor impatiently.
I glare at her, burning her into the ground.
揑t抯 not your concern, Miss Poe. We should be discussing the vision here and workplace morale in more detail. That will help you understand why I抦 bothering with this shit show.?I pause as she looks at me, wide-eyed and dripping disdain. 揕ook. I抳e worked hard to build an efficient work culture here. I抦 not going to watch it get hammered apart purely because we get along like a mongoose in a cobra pit.?
揂m I the mongoose or you??she asks absently.
Inhaling deeply, I don抰 dignify her question with a response.
揥hatever. I guess I just find it hard to believe a man who抯 almost criminally obsessed with his breakfast cultivated an atmosphere where people need to be friendly with each other. Then again, if friendliness is a job requirement, is it really friendliness or just forced socialization? And do you really think we can just call a truce and forget our run-ins? I don抰 think so. I抳e never had so much venom from a total stranger in my life. I抳e only ever met one man who might be as self-centered as you, and even that might be a stretch.?
揥ho??I grind out. I抦 a lot of things. Workaholic, yes. Jackass, sometimes. Self-centered, no.
揌uh??She reaches up, fixing a loose lock of hair, suddenly avoiding my eyes.
揧ou said you抳e only met one man as self-centered as me. Who is he??
She stiffens and goes red, clearly regretting the ammunition she抯 handed me.
揙h, so Miss Nevermore has secrets too??
She抯 even redder now, and I can抰 tell if it抯 shame or anger.
揘one of your business,?she says quietly.
Too quietly, really.
Why is she so flushed? What happened to her fire?
揝ee? Sometimes you have the answer, but it抯 not worth sharing with the world,?I say gently.
Her eyes whip to me, hurt and furious.
揑 highly doubt it抯 the same thing.?
I shift in my seat, curious who could leave this frosty impression on her.
揕et抯 make a deal right here. Tell me who beats me in the pompous jackass department, and I抣l tell you my reason for trying to jack your Regis roll. We can understand each other, Miss Poe. You go first,?I tell her.
Of course, I can抰 give her the full truth in naked detail. If she answers the question, I抣l come up with something.
Predictably, she stares at me in awkward, cold silence.
揑s there a fucking draft in here or is it just me??I wonder out loud, giving her a stare that could melt the arctic circle.
I already know she won抰 play ball.
Whatever else this strange blond slip of a woman in black is, she makes a mule look accommodating.
揟hat抯 what I thought,?I say coldly when she doesn抰 answer. I抳e regained control of the conversation, at least. 揘ow, moving on, I抎 like to walk you through my vision.?
She glances at her digital watch and then grins at me like I didn抰 just knock out her soul.
揝orry. I抎 love to stay and chat about your corporate vision, but Anna needs me in a meeting in five minutes and this place is huge. Have a blessed day, Mr. Burns.?She turns and strolls to the door, puts her hand on the knob, and looks at me over her shoulder. 揓ust text me your morning coffee order. I抣l be happy to bike it in for you tomorrow. Although, that sounds more like an assistant抯 duty than a copywriter抯. I抦 not sure what coffee runs have to do with marketing, but since you insisted, I抦 a team player.?
She throws the door open.
Damn her, I never insisted on anything with the coffee.
揥ait,?I call.
She freezes, glancing back in slow motion.
揥hat??
揧ou have a notepad. Just write it down now. Make it a large black coffee with a dab of heavy cream and two Regis rolls.?I reach into my wallet and pull out two crisp twenties, which I push across my desk to her. 揝ince we抮e not friends, there抯 no reason for me to have to text you, or for you to pay for my order, and since this is a personal matter, it shouldn抰 involve a company card. I抣l expect my change.?
Our eyes clash like two warring cats, all teeth and claws in the silence, snarling for dominance.
揇id you get that or do you need to write it down??
揋ot it. I抦 not a moron. I抣l remember,?she mutters, walking out the door.
Goddammit.
So much for the cease-fire.
I抦 starting to think my failure with Wyatt brought her into my life. I抦 not a particularly religious man and I don抰 put much stock in that old saying about God giving his biggest battles to his strongest warriors.
There抯 something painfully ironic there, though.
Because I couldn抰 move one mountain of a man, now I抳e got a stone-cold second peak to deal with. And unlike Wyatt, Miss Poe has the pedigree to make my life a frozen hell.
5
Nameless Here (Dakota)
One week.
I抳e survived more than one freaking week working for Lincoln effing Burns and I抦 ready to live up to my namesake and bury all six-foot something of him under the floorboards.
Except, unlike the crazy in 揟he Tell-Tale Heart,?if I hear his dead heart beating in my head, I just might relish the thought. Because I抣l know that I was the one who sent him to hell.
Also, that first 'flawless' bit of copy must抳e been a fluke.
Ever since our little heart-to-heart in his office, I抦 working twelve hours a day and he still marks the hell out of every line of copy I submit.
Some of the things he marks are ridiculous, too.
Honest to God, he actually complained about my margins last time.
The worst part is, some of his suggestions are actually good.
It isn抰 fair. No Neanderthal decked out in Gucci should ever give a fair critique that makes me leave teeth marks in my pen.
The bosshole drives me crazy, but he抯 improving my writing...which makes it impossible to up and rage-quit this job. I promised myself I抎 stick around for ninety days as much as I promised him.
I care too much about raising my game with words in the real world, where it counts.
You can get feedback from any fellow writer on the internet or a well-paid editor, but it doesn抰 have the same punch as a single line of text that could cause a seven or eight figure difference in sales.
Still. I抎 like to settle for punching him if I can抰 go full Poe on his smug ass.
And since I can抰 even have that, payback is coming this morning and you抎 best believe I抦 going to enjoy it.
揥hat can I get for you??the barista asks.
揟wo Regis rolls, a cinnamon latte, and a large coffee with one cream and six sugars.?
揟hat抯...a lot of sugar in the last one,?she says, raising a brow.
揑 know. Major sweet tooth.?
揋otcha. Can I get a name for your drinks??
I smile. 揓ust go with Nevermore.?
I pay with the asshat抯 bills, collect the cinnamon rolls, and move to the counter to wait for the drinks.
A guy sets two hot cups down less than five minutes later.
揘evermore!?he calls.
揌ere. Which one抯 the latte??
He points to the cup on the right.
揂wesome.?I reach over the counter and grab an empty cup. I pour the coffee with cream and sugar into a clean cup. 揅an I borrow a marker??
The guy reaches into a drawer and hands me a spare. I write Nevermore on the cup and draw a raven before I enjoy a nice swift bike ride to the office, delighting in the spring colors and slowly lifting gloom around the city.
He抯 already in his office when I get to his floor, a workaholic silhouette that looks almost etched into the frosted glass.
Perfect. Maybe he抣l take his first sip while I抦 still in the room.
I fight back a smile as I enter, and not very well. He notices.