Chapter 5

Chapter Five

I walk into my apartment to find Lucy setting up the little two-seater square dining table with plates, four boxes of Chinese takeout, and a bottle of my favourite prosecco. I had a key made for her for emergencies. This is very much an emergency. I’m about to have a mental breakdown.

Holding up a finger, I dump my bag on the floor, take the two steps between myself and the table, pick up the wine bottle, and pour a glass—filling it to the rim. I keep my finger paused midair. Lucy doesn’t move a muscle as she watches me drink the entire contents in one breath. Placing the glass back down on the table, I turn to her. “I am seriously going to murder you. I’ve been thinking of creative ways to do it all day.”

“Oh yeah?” She smiles. “And how am I going out? What have you come up with?”

“One, I make you a batch of your favourite brownies, adding enough arsenic to do the trick.” I hold up two fingers. “Two, I take that knife out of the block over there and stab you in the neck. You’ll bleed out in seconds but it’d be messy and I’d hate to have to clean it up.” I hold up another finger. “Three, I knock you over the head with a frying pan, drag your unconscious body to a cliff, and dump it. Let the wild animals finish you off.” Holding up a fourth finger, I continue. “Four, sell all your organs on the black market to the mafia.”

“Okay, I choose option four. At least then I’ll finally get touched by a mafia boss.” She waggles her eyebrows.

“You’re demented. You know that, right?”

We both fall into the mismatched dining chairs in a fit of laughter. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Lucy sobers up. “Tell me honestly. It wasn’t that bad working for Xavier, was it?”

“I barely had to see him. But he’s the devil. How your sweet and loving parents spawned that man, I have no idea.” I shake my head, dumbfounded.

“I reckon he was adopted, but they don’t want to make him feel bad so they’re not telling him.” Lucy giggles.

“That must be it,” I agree.

We eat in a comfortable silence, while thoughts of my new asshole boss only invade my mind every other minute, as opposed to every minute.

I’m so stuffed from dinner I can barely move when Lucy finally asks, “Okay, where’s this list of rules? Let’s see it.”

“Argh, you had to remind me,” I groan, digging the piece of paper out of my bag. I’m meant to have this list memorised.

Handing it over to her, I watch as she reads his rules aloud. “Number one: No fornicating with employees or associates of the firm.” She uses her best impression of her brother’s no-nonsense voice. “What is he, fifty? Fornicating? Really? Who says that?”

“That’s what I said!” I laugh. “It’s a shame, really. Have you seen his partners? They’re freaking hot, Lucy. How have I not met your brother’s friends before?”

“They are hot, but also complete hoebags. Stay away from them,” she warns me.

“Oh, don’t worry, I have no intention of sleeping with anyone in that office. Ever.” I emphasise the last word. Though I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince, Lucy or myself.

“Well, you know, you shouldn’t really say never. Besides, how’s Xavier going to know? Unless he’s the one you’re boning, he’ll never figure it out.”

My face heats up. I can’t hide the blush that creeps up my neck. The thought of boning Xavier should disgust me. I hate him. I can’t stand him. His face might be pretty but his personality is ugly. I’ve never known the man to do anything nice for anyone other than himself or Lucy. He is a good brother. I’ll give him that. But he’s always been rude and standoffish towards me. So why the hell would I get excited at the thought of having him on top of me? Having him slide between my legs…

“Hello, earth to Shar! Snap out of it.” Lucy snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Please, for the love of God, tell me you do not have the hots for my brother.” She scrunches up her face.

“What? Ew! Of course I don’t,” I lie.

“Oh my god! You totally do. You like Xavier!” she squeals.

“Ah, no, I do not,” I deny.

“You know what this means?” She smiles huge.

“Nothing, it means nothing , because I do not have the hots for your brother.”

“It means we could be sisters for real.” She wiggles her eyebrows up and down for a second time.

“Nope, not happening. Ever, Lucy. Get those thoughts out of your head.”

“Never say never, Shar,” she repeats the sentiment with a grin.

“What’s number two?” I ask her, changing the subject.

“Huh?”

“The list, what is rule number two?”

“Oh, yeah. Rule number two: Always be ten minutes early. Tardiness will not be accepted.” She rolls her eyes. “Well, tomorrow, you’re going to make sure you step inside that office at precisely eight a.m. He can’t demand that you’re early,” she says.

“Actually, he can, because he’s my boss.”

“Number three: Personal calls and messages are not to be taken during work hours.”

This one has my eyes rolling. How is he even going to know if I check my messages throughout the day?

“Rule number four: You are never to eat garlic before or during work hours.”

“Wait, seriously? It says that?” I ask Lucy.

“Yep, weird.” She laughs.

I shake my head. “What’s next?”

“Rule number five: A tall black coffee with one sugar must be delivered to my desk at precisely eight a.m. every morning.”

“Well, that’s an easy one.” I shrug.

“Rule number six: Lunch breaks are to be taken between twelve and one only. Any and all tardiness will be deducted from your paycheck.”

Oh my god, is he serious? I don’t have to worry because I’m not going to be late. But still… the man is ridiculous! “Okay, just stop. These rules are ridiculous,” I say aloud this time. Snatching the paper from her hands, I shove it back into my bag.

“Just be your awesome self. You are going to rock this job, Shar. I just know it. I gotta get going, but call me if you need me to sort him out.” She assaults me with one of her trademark bear hugs, the kind that makes you think you need to visit the ER to check for broken ribs.

“Thank you for this, Lucy. I still want to kill you but thank you,” I whisper into her hair.

“You’re welcome. And if you do want to bone my brother and become my real-life sister, go ahead. You have my blessing. Who knows? Maybe if he gets laid, he won’t be so high-strung?”

“Mmm, somehow I don’t think your brother has an issue getting laid.” I laugh.

“‘Cause you think he’s hot.” She pretends to gag and then laughs.

“No, I do not. Get out of here before I call that mafia boss to come and harvest your organs.”

“If only…” She sighs.

I look like shit. I spent all night tossing and turning, thoughts of the devil boss haunting my dreams. I need this job. I need to be able to put myself through university. I don’t have the luxury of falling back on anyone else for help. Lucy’s parents offered to pay for my tuition, which I quickly shut down. I’m not a leech. I will work my way through uni. I can do this on my own; it’s not like I’m the first orphan to try to make something out of myself.

I ensure I’m ten minutes early. Despite telling Lucy I had no plans of following Xavier’s ridiculous rules, I do not plan to give him a reason to fire me on my first week. I’ve changed my schedule at the grocery store. I’m thinking I can still work weekends there for a little bit of extra cash. I’ll be giving up any chance of a social life I had, but it’ll be worth it. There will be time to party and see my friends—well, friend because let’s face it, all I really have is Lucy—after I achieve my goals.

I knock on Xavier’s door before stepping into his open office. He’s already sitting at his desk, reading through a stack of files. “Good morning. Coffee: tall, black, one sugar as requested,” I say as I place the cup on his desk.

His eyes travel up and down my body before doing a double take and finally settling on my eyes. His jaw ticks. Great, I’ve already managed to piss him off and I’ve only been here three seconds.

“Oh, and I assume you haven’t eaten breakfast.” I deposit the paper bag, with a blueberry muffin inside, beside the coffee cup.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he asks me.

I stumble backwards. His tone, as well as the shock over his sudden question, has my brain and body freezing.

“Shardonnay, what the hell are you wearing?” he asks again.

“Ah, well, this… it’s called a skirt. And this old thing.” I gesture to each article of clothing as I explain. “Is a blouse.”

“I’m a criminal defence attorney, Shardonnay. That means I have criminals coming in and out of here all day. You can’t go strutting around looking like you’re about to mount a pole.”

Okay, the initial shock gives way to rage. Pure, red-hot rage. “First of all, I DO NOT look like I’m going to be dancing on a stage. Although I will consider finding a stripper job today, seeing as it’d probably be way more enjoyable than working for you. Second, there is absolutely nothing inappropriate with my clothes. My skirt touches my knees and my top is done all the way up—not even a hint of cleavage can be seen,” I hiss.

I don’t stick around to hear what else he has to say. Instead, I walk out, slam his door, and throw myself down in my chair.