Arrogant Boss

I had to stop myself from groaning.

Emily: Minus points for that one, Hunt.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

Julian: I know. I could feel it as I hit send. Still find me cute?

Emily: Super-duper cute. Like a floppy-eared puppy or a baby otter.

Julian: Very amusing, my sarcastic friend.

Emily: Let’s just say that my internal reaction to you has always been “awwww.”

Julian: That’s only because you haven’t seen what I can do. You’ll never use the word “floppy” again.

I quickly hid my phone along my leg and looked up. None of my colleagues were even looking at me, deep in discussion about a consultant, but I felt like I was flushing all over.

When I looked back down I saw that I’d gotten another text.

Julian: I can tell by your sudden silence that you have no idea how to respond to that. That’s okay. You don’t have to. But I hope you’re picturing it.

Emily: You’re an asshole. I’m in a meeting and now I can’t look anyone in the eye.

Julian: Texting on company time? I entirely approve.

Emily: You’re texting on company time too, buddy.

Julian: I am this company.

Emily: Fine, hotshot. But absolute power corrupts.

Julian: Good thing I have you to keep me grounded.

Emily: Where will this urgent trip take you?

Julian: New York, then Atlanta. I get back this weekend. Will you save some time for me?

Emily: I’ll try. My boss is pretty demanding…

Julian: Fingers crossed.

I slid my phone back into my pocket and re-focused on the meeting. Josef was just finishing up a long tirade about the problems with a potential consulting hire-his opinions came as a surprise to absolutely no one.

My phone was quiet in my pocket, but I felt its weight.

One week.

Denise clutched at my arm in the darkness. “This reminds me why we stopped going to these places.”

I pulled her closer as we narrowly avoided getting hit by a group of girls stumbling on high heels. The music was ear-deafeningly loud, the place packed-one of San Francisco’s hottest clubs.

“We’re only twenty-five,” I told her. “We can’t throw in the towel yet.”

“I know. Plus, I have to see Michael.”

I smiled. Yes, the reason we were here, the one reason we’d decided to go out again to one of these high-end clubs far from home.

The calm and collected Michelin-star head chef had apparently been contracted to provide hors d’oeuvres and catering for the launch of a social media app.

Yeah. If that wasn’t the most San Francisco thing you’d ever heard, I don’t know what was.

Anyway, seeing as it would attract quite the illustrious crowd, he had asked Denise if she wanted to go to the event. Which was why he let her bring me, clearly the most illustrious of them all.

“He said our names would be on the VIP list.” Denise took my hand and pulled me through a throng of men who smelled like smoke. A large banner hung behind the DJ with the name of the new app. Ylang, it read. I thought it sounded like an essential oil, which only proved how little I knew about tech.

Denise spoke with a club hostess, and with a nod and a smile, we’re both let through to the VIP area.

“Space!” Denise said. “There’s so much space up here!”

“And can you feel it? The air is so much fresher on the other side.”

She laughed and found a table for us. She was right-the VIP section was both roomier and far less crowded than the general area below. There was space to dance, a private bar, and tables filled with food lined along the walls.

I squinted. “Is that an ice sculpture?”

“Yes. Apparently, the app creator requested it. It’s supposed to be shaped like the app’s logo.”

“Well, it looks like something very different. It looks like- ”

“Don’t say it.” A dark voice warned behind us. “You’ll regret it.”

Denise and I turned to where a tall, blond man grinned. “I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t let you finish that sentence. I know I should have, though. Constructive criticism and all that.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean… Um. I’m Emily.”

He shook my hand. “I’m Rafe.”

“Rafe!” Denise extended her own hand. “You’re the creator of Ylang, if I’m not mistaken?””I am, yes.”

“It’s a pleasure.”

“Likewise. I’m glad to see that you could make it to our little launch party.”

“Well, I wouldn’t precisely call it little,” I said, glancing down to where hostesses were walking through the crowd with sparklers.

Rafe laughed. “You’re right. Go big or go home, I suppose?”

“In that case, we’re never going home,” Denise remarked.

“Have you ladies had anything to drink yet? I’d love to get you each a glass of champagne. There’s an open bar here in this section, and there’s great food over by the wall.”