CHAPTER ONE: CHLOE

“Pour me a drink.” I slammed my bag down on the table and dropped woefully into my chair.

Heidi uncapped the bottle of soju and poured me a shot. “I’m guessing he didn’t accept your resignation today, either?”

I threw back the liquor and wiped my mouth, glaring at her. “No. Do you know what that bastard did when I offered it to him? He didn’t even look at me when he said, ‘Miss St. James, if that envelope doesn’t contain the report on the Adair Travel acquisition, I don’t want it.’”

My best friend rested her elbow on the table and cupped her chin in her hand. “It seems like he’s just coming up with excuses now. Surely, he’s aware of how miserable you are. There’s no way he can’t be.”

“Ha! Do you really think that loathsome, self-centred bastard is aware of anything but his own feelings?” I poured another shot and downed it. “I cannot believe such a miserable wanker is descended from such sweet men. His grandfather and father are absolutely nothing like him. I’m this close to begging Cassidy to let me work with her for the President instead, even if it means a pay cut.”

“What I don’t understand is why you have to hand your resignation letter to your boss. Can’t you just submit one via email to HR?”

“That’s the one bone I have to pick with the duke,” I said, toying with my empty glass. “Well, that and his insistence that I was vital to this arsehole settling in at the company. I mean, sure, I got a pay rise, but do you know what also went up? My blood pressure.”

Heidi poured me another shot.

“Direct employees such as my wonderful self are obligated to hand in a written resignation to their superior as well as contacting HR. I’ve already told HR I want to resign, but they can’t process it until the boss gives his permission.”

“That seems a bit arse backwards.”

“Yeah, but how much of a selfish git do you have to be not to accept your employee’s resignation? I’m giving him six weeks’ notice, and I’d be training my successor on top of doing my job. He’s hardly going to be left high and dry, is he?”

A waitress came over and set a plate of ribs and wings between us. “Your side dishes will be right out.”

“Thanks,” Heidi said. “Can we get another bottle of soju, please?”

“Of course.”

Heidi turned back to me. “Your problem is that you’re just too good at your job, Chlo. Isn’t that how you became the President’s executive assistant in the first place?”

“Yes, but that was when the duke was the President,” I replied. “He was much easier to work for, and I had competent superiors who taught me everything I know. Nobody was expecting him to retire and hand the business down this soon, and if I’d known, I’d have resigned before I ended up in the Vice-President’s office.”

“Don’t you still speak to the duke regularly? Can’t you ask him to tell his grandson to accept your resignation?”

“Ha! Do you think that would make a difference? The Bastard’s father has already tried. Cassidy caught me in one of my failed attempts and promised to speak to him, but that git of a boss of mine brushed it off.” I grabbed one of the ribs as our side dishes were brought out—and the other bottle of soju.

Heidi picked up her water and sipped through the straw, glancing away thoughtfully for a moment. “You knew resigning wasn’t going to be easy. It wasn’t like he became the Vice-President of the company at thirty-one just because it’s his family business.”

I tore into my rib with my teeth, pulling a hefty chunk of meat off the bone. All right, fine—she was right. That bastard was exceptional at his job and had worked to prove to the company shareholders and board of directors that he was qualified to hold his position, but I would never admit that out loud.

“I think he enjoys torturing me. Perhaps I’ve stumbled into a Christian Grey fanfic without realising it,” I muttered.

“Hmm. He certainly has the looks and the bank account for it.”

“Not to mention that insufferable know-it-all, micromanaging personality.”

“I’m not sure you’re someone who can complain about a micromanaging personality.”

“Please don’t compare me to him. I prefer to describe myself as meticulous,” I argued.

“Whatever you want,” she sang, licking sauce off her fingers before tucking her short, dark hair behind her ear. “Have you even found another job yet?”

I paused. “I have a couple of interviews lined up.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be able to pull in the same salary you’re on right now? You’re on more money than the average executive assistant.”

“I work more hours than the average executive assistant,” I countered. “A lower salary is a fair trade-off for less working hours.”

“Oh, yeah. That reminds me. You got off early today.”

“Mm. He had a dinner meeting with his mother’s side of the family, so he sent me home first.”

“He does have a heart.”

“I doubt it. Last time they had dinner, she chewed him out for ten minutes for bringing his assistant to a family meeting, then sent me home with half the takeout menu by way of an apology.”

“Hey, I remember that. We were eating it for three days.”

“Exactly. He only let me go early because of that.”

“Then why don’t you ask her to make him accept your resignation?”

“Honestly, she terrifies me.” I paused. “Lady Southford—oh, um, Mrs Black is a truly lovely woman, but ever since I saw her fire ten people at once, I prefer to keep a little distance between us.”

Heidi’s eyebrows shot up. “She did what?”

“A proposal failed meaning they lost a major contract, and she fired the entire team who’d worked on it. In her defence, that team was on their last legs, but she was brutal.”

“Sounds like all the more reason to get her on your side. At the very least, a dressing down might make your boss be a bit more reasonable.”

I snorted. “That bastard wouldn’t know ‘reasonable’ if it bent him over and inserted itself up his arse.”

Heidi choked on her drink and slammed down her glass, thumping her first against her chest. “Shitty death, Chloe. Warn me first.”

“About what? My stellar wit? How can I warn you about that?”

She dabbed at her eyes with a napkin with a shake of her head. “Never mind. So, what are you going to do? Just keep offering him your resignation letter in the hope he’ll eventually give in?”

I sighed. “Getting him to take it is only the first hurdle. He has to actually accept it and notify HR for the process to begin.”

“And you can’t even get over the starting line. Poor thing.”

“I think I’m going to slip it into a report. At least then it’s on his desk. That’s a step closer than I am right now.”

“You might be on to something there.”

“It’s all thanks to the power of soju and Korean food.” I picked up the chopsticks and reached for the kimchi. “Have you spoken to Alex?”

Heidi’s distaste for her two-timing scumbag of an ex-boyfriend was written all over her face. “He started calling Harriet when I didn’t answer.”

I winced. Heidi was the kind of person who didn’t cut someone off easily, but once she did, there was no way back in. Betrayal was betrayal and second chances were for the genuine mistakes.

Otherwise, her wall went up.

And Harriet, her twin sister, was practically the Great Wall of China where Heidi was concerned.

“Exactly,” Heidi said, nodding at my expression. “Anyway, you can imagine how that went down. I think she threatened to cut off his balls with a butter knife then boil them into jam to choke him with.”

“A fate no less savage than he deserves,” I agreed. “Just let me know when and where. I have a jam pot in my kitchen.”

She laughed, pouring two more shots of soju. “Cheers to that.”

We clinked glasses then threw them back. The faint sound of a vibrating phone pricked at my ears, and I froze, staring at my bag.

Heidi checked her phone. “That’s not me. Surely, it’s not…”

“Nobody else calls me. Everyone knows I don’t use my phone for that.”

I spoke enough on the phone at work. I didn’t need that kind of harassment on my own time.

The vibrations stopped then almost immediately started again.

“That bastard,” I muttered, reaching into my bag for my phone.

Just as we’d both suspected, ‘The Bastard’ was the name that was glaring at me on the screen. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then swiped my finger across to answer his call.

“Hello, sir,” I said calmly. “What can I do for you?”

“Miss St. James,” the bastard said in his silky smooth. “What took you so long to answer?”

“I’m eating dinner. I am off the clock, Mr. Black,” I replied.

“Never mind that. I need you to come and pick me up and take me home.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Think happy thoughts, Chloe.

Happy.

Thoughts.

Imaginary Chloe reaches under the ring for a box file and hits Imaginary Bastard Boss over the head with it, knocking him to the floor!

Yes. Those were the happy thoughts I was going for. I could do this.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, sir. I’m over the limit to drive.”

“Over the limit? Why are you drinking on a weeknight? We have an early meeting tomorrow.”

“Forgive me, but isn’t the reason you’ve called me because you’ve also been drinking?”

He cleared his throat. “You’re bold this evening, Miss St. James. Are you talking back to me?”

“Talking back? To you, sir? I would never,” I deadpanned, turning away from Heidi.

If I kept looking at her stifling her laughter, I was going to be in so much trouble.

“Hmm,” the bastard replied. “Then call for a car service to pick me up.”

“Aren’t you at a hotel? Isn’t it easier to book a room, and I’ll have someone pick you up in the morning?”

“We have an early meeting, and I have no interest in running about so early tomorrow morning. Can you call me a car or not?”

Imaginary Chloe raises the box file and lands a deadly hit on Imaginary Bastard Boss!

“Yes, sir. Please wait inside the lobby. I’ll send someone to you as soon as possible and text you the details.”

“Good.”

The line went dead.

Heidi’s laugh burst out of her when I pulled my phone down and stared at it. “This is why he won’t accept your resignation. Nobody else would put up with his shit. Are you going to call a car?”

“Yes, I am. One to run him over,” I snapped, getting to my feet. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

I grabbed my phone and walked to the back of the restaurant where the restrooms were. It was much quieter for a phone call without having to brave the chill of a late spring evening, and I was able to quickly arrange for a driver to go to the hotel to take the bastard home.

ME: A driver from Spark is on his way. His name is Jeremy. He’ll be with you in ten minutes.

His response was, of course, immediate.

THE BASTARD: Good. Be in work for seven-thirty tomorrow to go over the schedule.

THE BASTARD: And stop drinking or you’ll be hungover in our early meeting.

I was quite sure the hangover had already begun.

I was going to make him accept my resignation tomorrow if it killed me.