Page 385 of Valentino

Maybe he’s right, maybe I am doing the wrong thing. Who’s to say I’m going to like Greenville anyway.

No.

This is what he wants, if I give up on my dream now, I’m only cheating myself.

No pain, no gain.

The thing about being a glutton for punishment is this….

Nothing.

Turns out that I’m a total hoe for gluttony punishment and there is no excuse for my needy behavior. After tossing and turning all night, there’s only one thing I know.

I am not a quitter.

Just as I said I would, I will work until the end of the week and then I’m going to the Christmas party looking shit hot and then I’m walking out on my terms. He cannot finish me up on a whim.

Who the fuck does he think he is, anyway?

Right on 8:20 a.m. I knock on his door.

“Yes,” he barks.

I smirk, he’s annoyed that I came back. Well… prepare to be angered, fucker. I open the door in a rush and step back as my eyes widen in horror.

He’s making coffee in his briefs. Black, sexy Calvin Klein ones.

Lingerie for men.

He turns toward me, giving me a full frontal. “What are you doing here?”

I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out.

“Ahhh.” My eyes bulge from their sockets. “What are you doing….” I put my hands up toward his body, I’m flabbergasted as my eyes drop to the bulge in his briefs. “Doing that,” I gasp.

“I’m making fucking coffee, what does it look like?”

Something snaps in my brain, “It looks like you’re being a poser, that’s what it looks like. This isn’t a Calvin Klein runway show, you know.”

“Nobody has a gun to your head to look.” He angrily tips the coffee into his cup. “I think you like what you see, that’s what I think.”

“Oh….. you think that!” I yell, infuriated that he’s onto me. “I think you’re…… hideous.”

“Hideous?” he screams infuriated. “You’re hideous.”

Something about my boss standing there in his underpants yelling that I’m hideous tickles my fancy, and I burst out laughing.

“Nothing is funny about this,” he fumes. “Look away while I dress.”

“Oh please, I’ve seen it all now,” I scoff. “Stop acting frigid, we both know you’re not.” I sit down and open his computer.

“Apparently I’m too hideous to look at,” he mutters as he disappears into his closet.

I smirk as I open his diary.

Not really.

I take one long last look in the mirror.