Bossed

by Sloane Howell

  Her heels clacked on the tile of the interview room and she walked around to the other side of the table. I smirked when she brushed her hands down the sides of her skirt. She must have taken notice because she stopped at once, and I watched her face flush with the slightest tinge of pink. Four walls and no windows—she was in my element now, and I planned on having some fun with her.

  “Welcome, Miss Jackson. Can we get you something to drink?” I asked.

  “Water would be nice. Thank you.”

  Need to cool yourself off from earlier, Jenny?

  I glanced over to Todd. “Can you get Miss Jackson some water, please?”

  “Of course, Mr. Mason.” Todd left to fulfill Jenny’s request.

  I turned back to her and motioned toward the chair across from me. “Please, have a seat.”

  I pulled her resume from a folder and pretended to peruse it for a minute. In my peripheral vision I could see her trying to hold back her nervous tics, but still giving a few hair twirls and collar tugs. I’d been over all of these resumes dozens of times, but there was no need for her to know that. I could practically feel the heat of her skin the wider my smile grew.

  What was it about her though? Other than the fact she’d been quick on her feet with the insults. There wasn’t a single feature that jumped out at me, but her hair and eyes and modest style all seemed to just work for her. She didn’t try to be beautiful, and in a way, it made her that much more attractive.

  Todd returned with a bottle of water and handed it to Jenny.

  “Thank you.” She smiled at Todd.

  I glanced down and noticed I’d balled my hand into a fist, and her resume was now halfway crumpled up between my fingers. “I own the place. So you can thank me for the water, Miss Jackson.”

  She glared across the table, a fire lit behind those blue eyes of hers. I wanted to see how high I could stoke the flames.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Thank you so much for my water, sir.” Her sarcastic tone and subsequent eye roll sent every pair of eyes in the room glancing away from our encounter.

  Tension filled the room like a thick fog. It was perfect.

  “You’re welcome.” I grinned. “So, tell me a little about yourself, Jenny. What do you enjoy doing? For example, do you like watching old movies, or perhaps taking walks on the sidewalk near the park?”

  Jenny paused in the middle of a large gulp, and I met her eyes over the top of the plastic water bottle. To my surprise, she didn’t fluster, but set the water down slowly and steepled her fingers together on the hard oak tabletop.

  “I enjoy a lot of things. For instance, I was excellent on the debate team.” She paused and leaned in closer. “In fact, one of my favorite things to do was to really thrash my opponent, so that they’d know I was a force to be reckoned with.”

  “Is that so?” I shoved her half-wadded-up resume back into the manila folder and smiled.

  “Oh yes. I actually still use that valuable skill-set from time to time when the mood strikes, or during my walks near the park that I enjoy so much.”

  Todd coughed and my eyes shot to the side in his direction, then back to Jenny. “Anything else you enjoy?”

  “Sure. I like to hang out with my friends, read, go to baseball games—”

  I cut her off with a snide chuckle.

  “Sorry, does my love of baseball offend you? I didn’t realize it was a sensitive topic. My apologies, Mr. Mason.” She folded her thin arms across her chest.

  Despite her best attempts to hide it, I noticed her breaths growing slow and heavy. I definitely felt something for this woman, what it was I wasn’t sure. If we’d run into each other under different circumstances, I might’ve even asked her out on a date, or been a pleasant human being to her. But when I looked at her now, she was full of a million different buttons I could push to get a reaction. Something inside of me longed to press every single last one of them.

  “It’s not a sensitive subject. It’s what we do here. It’s actually important that you know something about the game though, if you want to work here. Baseball is more than just wearing a cute shirt of the home team and watching the players run around in their uniforms. As fun as that may be.”

  I did my best to conceal my grin. Jenny’s jaw flexed and I imagined her teeth grinding together behind her beautiful pursed lips. Her frustration grew more obvious by the second, and the flames hidden behind her eyes were now burning so hot they could melt steel.

  “Well, I think I can hold my own in that department, Mr. Mason.”

  I smirked. “Maybe. I suppose we’ll find out. Moving on.”

  Jenny slumped back in her seat, and her eyes shifted toward the ceiling. I was a master at reading people. Negotiating was my job, and I had to do it better than anyone if I wanted my agency to thrive. She was warring with herself about something. What it was, I didn’t yet know. I was impressed she hadn’t already walked out. She didn’t seem like the type who would put up with the shit I was shoveling at her. What I did know for certain was that a woman I was attracted to had no business working at my agency. That would only end up with one outcome, a disaster.

  “So why do you want to work here?”

  “I need a better job and this place seemed like a good fit.”

  The tone in her voice suggested she’d pretty much given up hope on landing the job. I should’ve ended the interview right then and there. She was too pretty. We were too much alike. She smelled good. Everything about her was a bad idea.

  I decided I’d give her ego one last blow since it had turned into a competition of sorts, and I hated losing at anything. Not to mention she’d suggested that I read Us Weekly, and while I would’ve found that hilarious if it’d been directed at anyone else, it wasn’t when it was directed at me.

  “Look, I know you have bookkeeping experience, and that you have an accounting degree. But this isn’t a normal staff accountant position. It requires more than doing some journal entries and balancing ledgers.” I glanced up to watch Jenny roll her eyes once more while I continued. “We quantify the value of players here, and our accountants need to have a strong finance background rooted in valuations. It’s extremely sophisticated. We also use sabermetrics in our analyses, so you need a strong foundation in statistics and a wide knowledge of the mechanics of baseball, and a few other sports as well. You need to know what George Brett hitting .380 in 1980 would mean for his value in 1985. So, while your resume is impressive for many positions at many companies, I’m afraid it’s just not what we’re looking for here.”

  Jenny’s lips mashed into a thin line. “So why’d you even call me in for an interview? It sounds like you had already made up your mind about me.”

  “Well, you are technically qualified for the job, and sometimes after meeting with those who only possess the minimum requirements, we decide they’re a better fit than someone with more qualifications on paper. But I’m afraid that just doesn’t seem to be the case here. I apologize if we’ve wasted your time.”

  I was full of shit and I knew it. I hadn’t even given her a chance to prove if she’d be a good fit. It couldn’t happen though. I wouldn’t let it. Distractions kill productivity, and she was the ultimate distraction—for me.

  “Okay, I really need this job and you haven’t asked me a single question relevant to the work you do here. And that’s fine, it’s your company. But I still have enough respect for myself to know that I don’t have to listen to a pompous asshole run off at the mouth when he has no intention of hiring me. So thank you for the opportunity, but no thank you for the job.”

  I glanced around the room and nearly every jaw was agape. Jenny rose from her chair and stalked toward the door, her dignity still intact.

  “You weren’t offered the job, so no need to thank me for an offer.” I chuckled even though I knew it was harsh. Something about our encounter earlier, about her pride—it seemed to turn me into more of a dickhead than I already was. I was aware of the problem. The problem was that I like
d her. Nobody had ever challenged me like Jenny Jackson did within the first half hour of knowing her.

  She froze in her tracks while Todd held the door open for her. “.390.”

  I’d already begun looking at the next resume when I heard her voice. “Excuse me?”

  “George Brett, he hit .390 in 1980. It’s the highest batting average since 1941. Tony Gwynn hit .394 in 1994 but there was a player strike, so he only played in 110 games. Oh yeah, one other thing—only an idiot would use batting average as a reliable metric for valuing a baseball player.”

  “You’re mistaken, Miss Jackson.” I didn’t bother to look up at her, even though I was now questioning myself about the batting average.

  Marty Schraeder, a senior agent and the statistical analysis expert at the firm, leaned in next to my ear and whispered, “She’s actually correct, sir.”

  Fuck.

  Jenny started through the door.

  “Wait.” I craned my head up to get a new look at my kryptonite. “Come back and have a seat.”

  She stiffened, still yet to turn around. Her small hands squeezed into fists at her sides and her shoulders rose and fell. She released a large exhale of breath from her lungs. As she turned around slowly, her face was flushed and her cheeks bright pink. I couldn’t tell if she wanted to punch me in the face or burst into tears. I thought it was maybe both and I was curious as to why she was so emotional about the interview. We’d spoken to each other the same way on the street, and she hadn’t reacted like this.

  She stalked around the table and sat down in her chair. “What?”

  “When can you start?”

  “Excuse me? Did we just experience the same interview?”

  I loved pushing her buttons and throwing her off guard. If she were a male, or a female I wasn’t drawn to, this interview would’ve gone way different. My job was to be objective and hire the best candidate. I told myself this over and over in my mind, until I was convinced. It was complete bullshit. I didn’t want this to be our last encounter, regardless of how badly I knew it would end. Her knowledge of baseball pushed me past reason and into insanity.

  “Do you want the job or not, Miss Jackson? It’s a limited time offer. Limited meaning, decide now. I don’t have time to waste.”

  Her face told me she wanted to tell me to go fuck myself, but her hands fidgeting on top of the desk told me I was about to hire her. Why did she need this job so badly that she was willing to war with her pride to accept it? She was a beautiful mystery, a Rubik’s Cube that I needed to solve.

  “I can start next Monday.”

  “Very well then.” This time I was the one who stood. I walked with haste toward the door, manila folder in hand, and dropped it in the trash on my way out of the door. “See you Monday.”

  Once in the hallway, I let out a long sigh. What the fuck did you just do, Ethan?

  Chapter 3

  Jenny Jackson

  I held up a finger at my best friend, Kelsey, letting her know to be quiet while I clutched the phone to my ear. “Yeah, Dad! I got the job.”

  Dad’s words came out weak, but I could practically feel him smiling on the other end of the phone. “That’s awesome, baby girl. I knew you would.”

  “It’s like double the pay. So we shouldn’t have to stress as much over the bills, okay?”

  “Okay. Sounds good.”

  “You’re watching the game, aren’t you?”

  “You are correct.”

  “You want me to let you go, don’t you?”

  “You are correct.”

  I laughed. “Okay, thanks for listening to my news.” I started to hang up.

  “Jenny?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m very proud of you. And I love you more than anything in this world, new job or not.”

  Dad always knew how to warm my heart. And I knew he meant every single word. “I love you too. Get back to your game.”

  “Okay. Tell Kelsey I love her too.”

  “I will.”

  I tapped the red button on my phone and turned my gaze to Kelsey.

  She was practically shaking. “You got the job? Squee!”

  Kelsey wrapped me in the mother of all bear hugs, forcing all the air from my lungs. Her chest trembled against me, and she did that thing where she started jumping up and down, kind of forcing me to do it with her. I tried to pat her on the back, or show some kind of appreciation, but she had my arms pinned to my sides.

  “Kelsey?” I struggled to get her name out.

  “Yeah?”

  “I can’t freaking breathe.”

  She released me and I took in a large gulp of air. Her laughter echoed off the walls and her honey-colored eyes lit up. “Sorry. I hardly ever squee, you know this. I’m just so happy for you!”

  A warmth radiated through my body. It was hard not to feel happy around her. She was one of those people who never frowned. We’d known each other since kindergarten when she gave me a carnation pink crayon after mine had broken. We’d been through everything together—boys, dances, dating boys, breaking up with boys, boys breaking up with us.

  Kelsey was pretty in the “I don’t have to try to be pretty” kind of way. She had on a pair of Levi’s jeans and an old vintage Beatles tee that clung tightly to her thin frame. Her dirty blond hair was tied in a loose knot. She was definitely a rocker chick who loved her music.

  “I know this about you. I certainly do. And I know, it’s insane.”

  “Why’s it insane? You’re a badass. Any company should be begging you to work for them.” She gave me the stare I usually got when I sold myself short.

  “Oh, I didn’t tell you about him.”

  “About who? There’s a him?” She sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to her. “I want to hear all about it and him.”

  “Oh my God. Okay. So, I was hauling ass trying to find the place, right? I looked out in the park while I was walking down the sidewalk and I ran into the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  Kelsey perked up. “Oh, I like where this is headed.”

  “Just—just wait, okay?”

  She made a motion like her lips were sealed. I laughed because there was no way she would keep quiet through this story.

  “Anyway, he was a real prick.”

  “I hate him already,” she said, nodding.

  I stared and she zipped her lips once more over a wry grin.

  “Thank you. So, obviously, I gave back whatever he dished out. But my God, he looked like a guy right out of a fashion magazine—brown eyes, dark hair, suit. And I’m not gonna lie, he was quick-witted. You know what that does to me.”

  She started to speak and I held up my hand to shush her.

  “So I’m flustered all to hell and really late at this point. Needed coffee. I couldn’t figure out if I was mad or turned on while I hauled ass to find the building. Then I get to the interview and walk through the door—”

  Kelsey shook her head. “No, nope, no way. Did not happen.”

  I nodded and dropped my face into my palms. “It did,” I said between my fingers.

  She shoved me on the shoulder. “Shut up!”

  I pulled my hands from my face, leaving my dignity still clutched in my palms. My face had to be ten shades of pink.

  “Wait, but you got the job, right?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  Kelsey was already looking off at the wall, and then up to the ceiling. I could practically see the wheels spinning in her brain when her head whipped back to face me. “He likes you.” She drew out her syllables in a falsetto, as if we were fifth graders at the lunch table and she was teasing me about a crush.

  “You’re full of it.”

  “Nuh-uh!” She shook her head with that silly grin of hers.

  “Not a chance. What am I going to do?”

  “If he didn’t like you, why the fuck would he give you the job?” Her stare morphed into the “don’t be stupid” variety.

  “I don’t know,
okay. Pity? So he can torture me every day? He was a condescending asshole the entire time, so I’m still baffled that he offered it to me.”

  “I’m surprised security didn’t escort you out, because I know you had to have given him shit back the whole time.”

  “Oh, I did.” I nodded. “When I corrected him on a baseball fact I thought his head was going to explode.”

  “Because he likes youuu!”

  I ignored her teasing and thoughts raced through my head. Still. Why did he give me the job? Maybe I’d impressed him with the George Brett thing. That had to be it. No guy like him enjoys being corrected by a female in front of his colleagues. Maybe he was being objective and saw through all the banter, and that I knew what I was talking about.

  “Whatever.” I shoved her and laughed. “I can’t screw this up. The salary is almost double what I made before. I just need to keep my head down, steer clear of Mr. Hot Cocky Asshole, and do my work.”

  “Well, if there’s one thing you’re good at, it’s avoiding hot men.”

  “Hey!” I shoved her playfully and laughed.

  “Well, it’s fucking true, Jenn. You avoid them like the plague.”

  “Keith was hot.” I looked away as soon as I said it and pretended to whistle.

  “That was two years ago and he played Dungeons & Dragons and slept with one of those mask things over his face so he wouldn’t die.”

  I couldn’t look at her because I might’ve died of embarrassment or laughter. “He was kind of cute…” I let my words trail off, trying not to giggle.

  She started to impersonate Darth Vader breathing through his helmet, and I lost it when she broke out her best imitation. “Jenn, join me on a quest in the enchanted forest. We will have sex and you will call me Fatherrr.”

  I could barely breathe when I turned back to see her face flushed and practically trembling trying to contain a grin. We both erupted into a fit of laughter and fell back into the couch. She cocked her head sideways and leaned against my shoulder.

  “What am I going to do?” I asked.

  “Well, I’m not saying this is the best approach. But…”