Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
She looks up, eyebrows raised. "Okay."
"How does he handle difficult employees?"
"He doesn't really have any. People want to work for him. People bend over backwards to please him."
"What about demanding bosses? How do you handle those?"
Her fingers pause on the chopsticks. "Are you asking about anyone specific?"
"Just curious about your strategies. You've been Levi's EA for two years. You must have developed techniques."
"Techniques for what?"
"Staying professional when your boss is being unreasonable."
Vivian sets down her chopsticks and leans back in her chair. The careful distance she's been maintaining all day is still there, but something in her posture shifts. "Mr. Astor, are you trying to get me to critique your management style?"
"I'm trying to figure out why you're sitting there like you're afraid I'm going to bite."
"I'm not afraid you're going to bite."
"Then where are your claws, Vivian? I want to see them. You were feisty enough when we first met and had opinions about everything."
"I'm not sure if you've noticed, Mr. Astor, but we are at work. Who I am at a bar will obviously be vastly different from who I am in the office. I know when to sheathe my claws."
"I just can't seem to reconcile the person. You had plenty to say at the bar. And this morning, for about thirty seconds, you remembered how to fight back. Now you're all yes sir, no sir, would you like me to sharpen your pencils."
"Maybe I'm being professional because this is a professional environment."
"Or maybe you're being boring because you think it's safer."
"Excuse me?" Her eyes narrow. "Boring?"
"Disappointing, actually. You told me that anyone who drinks hotel bourbon clearly has more money than sense."
"You do have more money than sense."
There it is. The first crack in her armor. I know this is unprofessional, but fuck, I want to see her—the woman underneath.
"Better. What else?"
"This is ridiculous."
"Is it? You've been tiptoeing around me like I'm going to fire you for breathing wrong. It's exhausting to watch."
"You're my boss."
"Temporarily."
"You're still my boss."
"And you're still the woman who ordered Shirley Temple for the sake of childhood nostalgia."
Her cheeks flush. "Like I said, we are at work."
"No one else is here now. Tell me something true."
For a beat, I think she won't give in, but she glances at my tie and says, "Your tie is expensive and boring, and you probably have twenty identical ones."
"Fifteen, actually. Same pattern, different color."
"Oh, well, that's much better. You probably have them shipped from your personal tailor in Italy."
"He's in Boston, and he hand-delivers them himself."
Vivian's jaw hangs open. "Now it makes so much sense you'd pay for overpriced bourbon."
A grin splits my face, and I laugh. The tension in the room shifts, not disappearing but changing quality. Less sharp, more electric.
"Welcome back, Vivian. I thought I lost you."
Vivian shakes her head, but she's fighting a smile. "You really are a nightmare boss."
"And you're finally interesting again."
"I was never not interesting. Just ask Jaden, Lea, or even Levi."
"You were beige for three days straight."
"Beige is professional."
"Yes, but no one looks at a box of crayons and picks beige."
"Strong opinions from someone who wears boring ties."
"Okay, fair enough."
She picks up her pen and starts tapping it against the table. "What do you like then?"
The question catches me off guard. "Honestly?"
"Honestly."
"I like the woman who wasn't afraid to voice her opinions while wearing a dress that should have been illegal and looking like every man's wet dream."
Her tongue peeks at the corner of her mouth as she fiddles with her earring. "That woman was having a very weird night."
"What made it weird?"
"She was dreading Monday morning."
"Why?"
"Because she'd heard terrible things about her new temporary boss."
"Such as?"
"That he was demanding and humorless and made people cry."
"Do I seem humorless to you? Have I made anyone cry yet?"
Vivian smirks. "No. You're trying to be humorless and failing."
"Failing how?"
"Your side comments are actually pretty funny, and you look like you try very hard not to smile."
She's right. I can feel it tugging at the corner of my mouth right now. "Maybe I have reasons to smile."
"Such as?"
"Such as you finally stopped calling me Mr. Astor every other sentence."
"I'm still calling you Mr. Astor."
"Not in the last five minutes."
She opens her mouth to argue, then closes it. Her forehead furrows, and her cheeks redden. "This is exactly why I was being careful."
"Because you might accidentally treat me like a human being?"
"Because this is how we got into trouble the first time."
"Trouble?"
"You know what I mean."
I stand up and walk around to her side of the table. She doesn't back away, but her fingers tighten on the pen. "What kind of trouble?"
"The kind where I wake up in a strange hotel room with no memory of how I got there."
"You remember exactly how you got there and every minute since. You drank Shirley Temple."
"That's not the point."