If the devil wears a suit... Has a permanent frown... Wet panties left and right.. Expect perfection from everyone... Well then, that's my boss. And today is not my day. It's never your day when you get called to his office. But an even worse day when he broodingly asks you to marry him. And apparently, no is not an answer he will take. So, does that mean I am now supposed to call my devil of a boss my pumpkin boo?
View More“Yes or no?” Leon asks, pegging me with his crazy gorgeous eyes. “Do you want the promotion or not?”This man would suck as a husband. He’d be bossy as all hell. So why are my panties still doing that bullshit thing where they’re hot and freaking soaked all at the same time?Quite suddenly and irrationally, I feel a stubborn determination coming on, a way to get out from under the pit of shit I’ve been drowning in and save my family too. I shouldn’t do this. This is ultra-mega stupid times a thousand, but frick, if I don’t do it, what then? I’m out on my butt without a job? I’d always know that I passed up the opportunity to really help my parents and sister out? To get out from under all my student debt?Having him as a husband wouldn’t suck that much. It might not suck at all. Being bossy isn’t a bad thing when you’re fine as the devil on a dark night.What the hell? Are you listening to yourself? That is your va-jay-jay talking,the rational side of me scolds.No, I’m your va-jay-ja
I’m not sure if it means he’s talking about a promotion or something really bad. It kind of seems like the latter because suddenly, Leon shifts just a fraction. It’s hardly a movement at all, but I know him because I’ve watched him—and no, not in a creepy way. I’m just really observant, and he’s also my job, so it pays to be hyperaware sometimes—but he does it, and Leon doesn’t do things like that.The chats. Oh my god, he knows about the chats.“Umm, like if we’re talking about finding someone, tying them up, and throwing them in the river, then I don’t think so.”He grunts at me, which is laughter for Leon. I suddenly feel way too hot on the inside, like my ovaries are boiling. “I was talking about keeping this company together and keeping your job. Would you do something to keep your job? Of course, there would be a rather large bonus attached to the request for your troubles.”Oh fuck. He’s going to ask me to do a hit. I know it. Probably death by poisonous muffins. Or fetch nefari
Jane:Bloodstains?Darby:Well, he’d probably suck them dry first, so no.Amanda:Haha, that was good. Now you’re getting in the spirit. But really? He makes you vacuum out his car? What a sick bastard.Darby:I’m his assistant. I’m supposed to assist him, so I do.Amanda:With paperwork and stuff. Not car stuff.Darby:Well, whatever. I get more money here than anywhere else. I need it. My sister is halfway through college, and she wouldn’t be able to go if it weren’t for me. I also have a huge student loan debt that I’m paying off, and my dad is on disability, so I help my parents with their mortgage. I couldn’t do all that if I didn’t make good money here.I’ve read enough. I closed the chats so they won’t make a sound on my screens when I call Darby into my office. I’d like to use some of the things they said about me against her, but that would ruin the fun of getting to read all those messages. I can’t say I didn’t warn people. Maybe I’d be in a better mood if my own employees didn’t
Margery:What part are we talking about here? Because I’d bite a cheek, but I’m not so sure about licking or eating.For the record, Margery is fifty-eight years old and a grandmother of thirteen.Darby:Whoa! Uhhh, okay, someone asked me how I handle him. Let’s go with that before we get off track. It’s not so bad. He drinks expensive coffee that I have to get from this coffee shop located a ten-minute drive away, but I pick it up on my way to work now, so it’s no biggie. He likes the beans from there and only from there. But I’m not complaining. He’s just like everyone else. He always has a huge list of things that need doing. It keeps me busy, which is good. He gets his clothes dry cleaned and needs to send emails and have his phone answered like anyone else. He’s really not that scary. Although he can be seriously foul at times, I’m sure it’s not very fun for him if no one reacts.She’s far too diplomatic, this woman who I’m going to try and convince to be my wife to save my ass fro
Like everyone else, Darby Caughill probably has very good reason to dislike me greatly. But luckily for me, she doesn’t need to like me. She just needs to marry me.I swivel in my desk chair with my cell gripped tightly in my fist. The urge to hurl it at the wall is monstrous. I guess I’ve earned my nicknames. They call me Monster Montague. That or my favorite Lord Lee On Poo, shortened down over the months to Lord Poo. The first has a nice ring to it. I don’t mind it at all. The second irks me, but only because the people who work for me can’t say my last name, which is part of the name of the damn company they work for. They’re calling it Mont-a-gue, not Mon-tag, which is the right way to say it.One monitor pings on the side of my desk, and I swing back around. My head is a mess this afternoon afterthecall. My brain feels like someone opened up my skull and rammed shards of glass into the gray matter. My left eye is twitching because I can already feel it coming on. Pain. Hot, like
Like everyone else, Darby Caughill probably has very good reason to dislike me greatly. But luckily for me, she doesn’t need to like me. She just needs to marry me.I swivel in my desk chair with my cell gripped tightly in my fist. The urge to hurl it at the wall is monstrous. I guess I’ve earned my nicknames. They call me Monster Montague. That or my favorite Lord Lee On Poo, shortened down over the months to Lord Poo. The first has a nice ring to it. I don’t mind it at all. The second irks me, but only because the people who work for me can’t say my last name, which is part of the name of the damn company they work for. They’re calling it Mont-a-gue, not Mon-tag, which is the right way to say it.One monitor pings on the side of my desk, and I swing back around. My head is a mess this afternoon afterthecall. My brain feels like someone opened up my skull and rammed shards of glass into the gray matter. My left eye is twitching because I can already feel it coming on. Pain. Hot, like
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