Leo was in charge of the deliveries before me. He was also the last person hired before me.
I’m seeing a pattern here.
He puts the newest recruit through his version of a bootcamp, where you take on the tasks that everyone hates.
Like take responsibility for deliveries, pantry rotation, or running the family meal. It’s just part of his style. He’s not targeting me personally. He’s not.
I know that but I admit, I’m struggling not to take affront.
At the same time, my agency is clear on these tasks. I’m going to take them on because I’m capable and determined to impress him.
I’m going to stay present, keep my sense of humor, and deal with his overbearing presence with charm, grace, and the occasional sarcastic reactions.
Yes, we have chemistry, but I’m going to balance it with professionalism. There. That was a good talk with myself.
I do feel calmer now. On the bright side, it’s my day off, so I don’t have to see James today.
Doesn’t stop me from letting off steam.
I toss my phone aside. Then throw myself on my bed, pick up my favorite pink cushion and scream into it.
"I hate him. I really do hate him. I hate that arsehole. Mofo. Bolland. Pillock. Plonker. Muppet. Prat. Numbskull, Bo?—"
"Umm, what are you doing?"
My sister’s voice cuts through my stream of consciousness outpouring.
I lower the cushion from my head and scowl at her. "I’m venting my frustration at having to work with the most infuriating man I’ve ever met."
She walks into my room and sits on the bed next to me. "Fess up everything."
My sister is my closest confidante.
Our parents died in an accident when I was eighteen. I’d just won a scholarship to culinary school. Briar was twenty-one and living with Freya’s father. Freya was two.
Three years later, I graduated, got a job and moved into my own apartment. I had it for a year, before Freya's father left.
That’s when I moved in with Briar. I insisted on helping support her and Freya.
It was difficult, but we managed.
Now that Freya is ten, our two-bedroom flat is starting to feel small. But I love this place.
It’s in a block of flats on a quiet, tree-lined street in London, and the rent is reasonable.
Once I started working full time, I insisted on paying the rent.
I know how much that helps Briar. Which is why, at twenty-six, I’m still living with my sister and my niece.
Over the years, I’ve slowly put together my bedroom with pieces thatI’ve found.
A bookshelf covers one wall, crammed with my favorite books. Next to it is the dresser I found on the street. The lamp I discovered beside the recycling bin is on top of the dresser.
It’s a little eclectic. And feels very me.
I sigh. "My boss is driving me crazy with his micromanaging."
“What’s he done now?”
