Grumpy Boss by Hamel, B. (best non fiction books to read TXT) 📗

like that—his eyes flashed with annoyance. “We should’ve talked about that first,” he said softly.

“I didn’t have a chance,” I said. “It came up naturally.”

He grimaced, like he wanted to argue but stopped himself. I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling strangely defiant. I wasn’t his real assistant—he couldn’t actually punish me for doing something wrong, even if he wanted to.

“Come on then,” he said, walking to the car without another word.

I smiled a little and thought of what Giana said about him—attractive, if you’re into the grumpy thing. And maybe I was, or at least the more time I spent with him, the more intensely I began to feel there could be something between us.

Which I had to ignore if I was going to survive this whole situation.

8

Rees

We traveled straight from Memphis to L.A. and slept in the plane. Or at least Millie slept—I spent the night drifting between a light nap and staring out the window at the black clouds drifting past.

She went off script back at that house. I wished she’d waited and talked to me first, but it worked out in the end. Linus convinced Fluke to see me, although from the sound of things, it was a very reluctant meeting. Still, we got on her calendar, and now I had a chance to finish this at least.

Millie shifted to the side in her seat across the aisle. That was the good thing about private: we had all the space we needed.

Giana said something to Millie out on that porch. She’d been a little strange ever since their conversation. I didn’t know what they talked about, but I could only imagine it wasn’t great for me. Giana knew me too well and for too long, and she knew where all the skeletons were buried.

Not that I had any, of course.

It was all so tenuous and fragile and complicated: my friendship with Giana and Lady Fluke, this deal with Alfie, and whatever was blooming between me and Millie. I wished she could understand our position, and what it meant that Desmond was hell bent on destroying me again—but she lacked the context, the years and years of anger and resentment.

That was probably for the best. She slept like a baby, and I hoped that never changed.

* * *

We were met by Lady Fluke’s assistant at the airport. She was a young woman dressed in a prim pant suit, her black hair slicked back, her frown tugging down into a reproving glare. She looked so much like Fluke that it was almost absurd.

“The Lady is very busy,” her assistant said, a young woman named Judith. She escorted us out into the perfect L.A. afternoon, sun shining, not a drop of humidity in the air. Her black sedan was double parked against the curb, and a cop lingered nearby, looking like he wanted to ticket it. She ignored him and climbed inside.

I sat up front, Millie got in the back. “I’m hoping the Lady can see us soon,” I said.

Judith shrugged as she pulled aggressively into traffic, and was not shy about using her horn. “Fucker,” she muttered under her breath, then glanced at me. “Look, I’ll be real with you. I hate doing airport pick-ups, so this has me on edge, okay?”

“That’s fair,” I said, trying not to smile.

“Fluke’s pissed at you,” Judith said. “Whatever you did to get back on her good side wasn’t enough. I doubt she’ll actually take this meeting.”

My jaw clenched and I took a deep breath. “She’s ducking me,” I said, trying not to sound pissed.

If Judith noticed my anger, she didn’t care. “Yep, she is, and I don’t really care about whatever’s going on between you two. All I know is, she’s unhappy, and it’s my job to make her happy again.”

“Sounds like a little much for an assistant,” I said, and she glared at me. I smiled back sweetly. “Besides, this is Lady Fluke we’re talking about. She doesn’t do happy.”

Judith sighed, then swung the wheel and merged like a psychopath into the next lane. I glanced over my shoulder and Millie stared out the window, her face as white as snow, her finger clutching the seat.

“What’s the deal between you two, anyway?” Judith asked.

“We’re friends,” I said. “Or at least we were. I don’t think Lady Fluke has many friends. We have a lot in common, and see the world the same way.”

“Got it,” Judith said. “You’re both miserable bastards then.”

Millie barked a laugh from the back seat. “Damn right,” she said.

I glared at her then back to Judith. “You don’t seem so pleasant yourself.”

“Misery loves company,” she said, squinting ahead. “Alright, here’s the deal. I’ll drop you at your hotel, then you’re on your own. If Fluke’s going to see you, it’ll be tomorrow. Be available, just in case, but don’t get your hopes up. Like I said, she’s still pissed, whatever happened.”

I leaned back and crossed my arms, staring out the windshield as Judith continued to drive like she was trying to win a NASCAR race. She wouldn’t be any help to me, so I decided not to press her. Besides, Fluke would see me, even if she was mad right now. I was one of her few friends, and she couldn’t afford to lose me.

We were staying at the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills. Flake was staying nearby, at the Mondrian in West Hollywood. Judith practically threw us out onto the curb then sped off, her tires kicking up rubber into the air as she sped off and flew into traffic, honking her horn wildly.

“That woman is insane,” Millie said, shouldering her bag. “Seriously, who drives like that?”

“Lady Fluke knows how to pick them,” I said, then pushed forward inside with Millie on my heels.

“What are we going to do?” she asked, staying close. “If Fluke won’t see us, we’re kind of screwed.”

“Alfie’s kind of screwed,” I said through clenched teeth. “But she’ll see me.”

“Judith didn’t seem so sure.”

“Judith is new and doesn’t