Bossy(27)

Do it, do it, do it!

“Yeah, sure, of course.” With a dexterous nab, he pulls one of the Boston cremes from the box. “Thanks.” He salutes me with it before taking a huge bite.

Watching gleefully, I can see it happen moment by moment. His teeth cut through the surface and punch down into the filling as it squirts out into his waiting mouth. It’s like watching a cartoon, where time stops as the main character figures out what just happened to them. It doesn’t take long.

His eyes pop open wide. With a deep hack, he spits out his bite, right onto the carpeted floor. “Oh my God. What the fuck is in this donut?” He spits again.

“Oh, that one?” I pause, savoring the moment. “It’s a special one for my boss. Packed totally full of creamy... thick... mayo.”

He sticks his tongue out at my words, batting at it with his hand like he’s trying to brush the taste off. Then his eyes go wide. “Holy fuck, my tongue burns. That’s not just mayo.”

I bat my eyes sweetly. “You’re right. There’s also a huge dollop of puréed chili mixed in, if you’re curious. It wasn’t even the hottest pepper I found, you big pussy. How’s it taste? Because from here, it looks really freakin’ sweet.”

His face is beet red and his eyes huge. Is that a tear I see? “Motherfucking Jesus Christ on a fucking pogo stick! Water. Fuck, I need water.” He tears open the door and charges down towards the reception where the water cooler is. He’d probably be better off grabbing milk from the fridge, but I’m sure he’ll figure that out on his own.

That’ll teach him to mess with me.

Carl pokes his head in, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Remind me not to get on your bad side. Or take the Boston cremes out of your donut box.” He laughs, a bit hoarsely. “I bow to ye, O Mistress of Practical Jokes.”

I acknowledge him with a queenly tip of my head and a smile before he turns, chuckling as he leaves. I have to admit to feeling pretty awesome right now. It was almost too easy. He never saw it coming. Victory feels so good.

I’m going to have to watch my back. For real.

But right now, I’m going to enjoy being in the lead while I figure out how to help Cooper Holdings win their case without totally selling myself to the devil or killing Mr. Cooper.

I’m just getting stuck in when my phone rings. Distracted, I don’t bother to check who it is before picking up. “Hello?”

“Claire, sweetheart. You’re there.” Michael’s slimy voice worms its way into my ear.

Why did I use to think he was charming, again? I really need to block his contact in my phone.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Wait! Don’t hang up. Please. We were together for three years. That has to count for something, right?” He sounds so pathetic that my finger pauses over the end call icon. “It’s not for me, okay? I’m calling for my parents.”

“Your parents? Did something happen?”

“No, not like that. They’re celebrating their thirtieth wedding anniversary next Sunday. Renewing their vows and they’d really like for you be there.”

“What? But we’re not together anymore. They know that.” Silence on the other end. “Right?” The terrible thing is that I actually like Michael’s parents. They’ve always been really nice to me, so I have no idea how their son turned out so rotten. “Michael?”

He hesitates. “Well, not in so many words, I guess. I’ve hinted at it.”

Oh, for... “You haven’t told them anything.” Avoidance was always one of his primary techniques. I shouldn’t be surprised. “So now they’re expecting you to be there with your fiancée and if I don’t show, you either ruin their night or make me look bad. Is that it?”

“Look, if you don’t show, I won’t say anything bad about you. I just—I just figured they’d appreciate it. They really like you. You’re the daughter they never had.” Am I actually feeling bad for him? Shit, I am.

“Alright.” Oh God, what am I doing? “Fine, I’ll go. For them, since they’ve always been good to me.”

“Really? You will? Thank you! Thank you, Claire. Maybe afterwards, we can—”

“I will say my greetings to them, give them a gift and then try to be social. Afterwards, I will leave and you will never call me again. Got it?” In, out, gone.

“Yeah.” He sighs melodramatically.

I used to appreciate that he wasn’t forceful or pushy like a lot of guys, but he just sounds spineless to me now. Typical. What I used to want has no appeal anymore, and what I shouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole looks like a nice juicy steak. I can’t win.