Grumpy Boss
BB Hamel
Contents
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1. Millie
2. Rees
3. Millie
4. Rees
5. Millie
6. Rees
7. Millie
8. Rees
9. Millie
10. Rees
11. Millie
12. Rees
13. Millie
14. Rees
15. Millie
16. Rees
17. Millie
18. Rees
19. Millie
20. Rees
21. Millie
22. Rees
23. Millie
24. Millie
Also by BB Hamel
Untitled
Copyright © 2021 by B. B. Hamel
All rights reserved.
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1
Millie
I sat in a waiting room surrounded by skinny blonde girls in immaculate skirts and button-down blouses and all I wanted to do was spill my water, pretend like it was an accident, and use that as an excuse to get the heck out of there. I shifted slightly in the uncomfortable plastic chair, craning my neck to peer around the corner of the wall that penned in the office waiting room toward where another skinny blond girl in perfect clothes sat behind the receptionist’s desk, and I was inches away from getting up.
This job wasn’t for me. I mean, based on the applicants, it wasn’t even within the realm of possibility: I was brunette, for starters, so scratch me off right there. I didn’t have expensive clothing, and I didn’t have the posture of a professional gymnast. And seriously, the one girl looked like she was reading an advanced Calculus textbook—who even did that?
If it weren’t for Lori, I would’ve been out of there already, but she got me this interview. I’d known her since college, and we’d been friends ever since Freshman year when I helped her find her phone one morning after a particularly rough party. She’d gotten so drunk she dropped it in some bushes, and luckily for us, the battery hadn’t died. We heard the bush ringing, and I was like, is that bush ringing? Sure enough, there it was, in a patch of dirt, like two feet away from a spilled Big Gulp, which was also hers. Anyway, we were best friends after that.
I stood up, ready to run. I loved Lori, she was a sweetheart, and one of the smartest and most talented people I knew—but seriously, I wasn’t prepared for this. I should’ve been at home, in my apartment, studying for the Bar exam, which I’d been trying to ignore for the last few months ever since graduating from law school. While all of my peers took the test, passed it, and became practicing lawyers, I kept putting it off, putting it off, and floundered.
Maybe this job was another way to procrastinate. Maybe if I just left right now and went home, I’d get myself together and finally take the stupid test. I mean, I didn’t need to be some rich guy’s assistant, even if it paid fabulously well, and maybe I could—
“Millie Drake?” The blond receptionist stood in front of me, tapping a black pen in her palm. “Millie Drake? He’ll see you now.”
I felt my heart do flips. I was so close to getting away, but I couldn’t run, not now, not with eight sets of beautiful blond-lady eyes staring at me.
“Right, that’s me,” I said, and followed the receptionist back into the offices.
The place was gorgeous. I’d never seen so much glass in my whole life: smooth, clear glass, frosted glass, stained glass, in all shapes and sizes and thicknesses. The cubicles were in the center of the main space, and people buzzed around in there, moving from desk to desk with purpose, talking to each other, laughing loudly. Everyone wore smart business casual outfits, and I could’ve sworn we were on the set of a movie, based on how stupidly hot everyone was.
I had to keep reminding myself that if I could put myself through law school, I could do freaking anything.
The receptionist took me to a conference room at the far end of the building. The blinds were drawn, though light leaked out from between the slats. She opened the door and ushered me inside.
“Millie Drake,” she said, announcing me like some rich lady at a fancy ball, then disappeared.
I stood in front of a long, mahogany conference room table. A white screen was pulled down on the far side, blank and empty. Several phones were set up in strategic locations. The walls were bland brown and gray, and the decor was decidedly modern: paintings with abstract shapes in bright colors covered the walls. Two men sat staring at me: one, an older guy with salt-and-pepper hair, and another, younger, handsome man, with striking blue eyes, and a strange, dead-pan scowl.
“Thanks for coming in, Ms. Drake,” the older man said. “My name is Jack, I’m Mr. Court’s lead council. And this is Rees Court.”
I walked over to Jack and extended my hand, pushing down the sudden jolt if anxiety. He shook it with a smile, and I tried not to maintain appropriate eye contact. Rees Court was hotter than I thought he’d be, which knocked me off my game, but I quickly gathered myself together. No time to stand there slack-jawed gaping at an attractive rich man in a suit. “Nice to meet you,” I said, and placed my resume down on the table in front of each of them. I extended my hand for Rees, but he only nodded at me. I felt heat descend through my face at the odd snub, and I glanced at Jack, who still smiled politely, like nothing strange just happened. I wondered if Rees was a germaphobe or something. Jack picked up my resume, but Rees ignored it, and stared at me with a steady, disconcerting gaze.
I sank into a chair and did my best to project confidence. I pretended like I was one of those immaculate
