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Bossy(53)

By:Kim Linwood


He shrugs. “Yeah, alright. I guess you know best. Just saying.”

“Of course. Thanks.” I hold my hand out. “Anyway, right in here, and we can get comfortable.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Carl walking by and giving Claire a thumbs up. She winks and my stomach drops. Something is off, I can feel it, but there’s no time to stop and figure out what.

My trouble sense is tingling off the charts.

“What in the ever-loving...” Cooper trails off, and I know the trap has been sprung. Shit.

As soon as I enter, I groan. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

My walls are sky blue. With clouds. And a fucking rainbow. Shooting stars and a big old sun in one corner spill up onto the ceiling. A goddamn flying cat with a unicorn horn is standing on one of the clouds, smiling like it just won the lottery. My walls used to be dark red and dignified, like a lawyer’s office. Now it looks like Hello Kitty’s playroom.

It’s a monstrosity, but I can’t help but give her points for execution, because the attention to detail is devilish in its horror. All the books on my shelves have been covered in rainbow paper, and my book ends have been replaced by things with huge eyes and tiny bodies that are so ridiculously cute they must be Japanese.

“Is this a fucking joke?” Cooper’s buddy is laughing his ass off, and Cooper himself looks like he’s about to explode and save us all the rest of this farce of a case. “I’m supposed to be trusting my company to someone with an office like this?”

With every new thing I spot, my stomach drops a little further. There are action figurines on my desk, apparently playing with my pens. Even my fucking lamp shade has been replaced with one that spins slowly, throwing silhouettes on my walls of kittens chasing each other.

The only thing missing is a bed with cartoon sheets to complete the look of a little girl’s bedroom.

Claire snorts behind me. Harr harr. Real fucking funny.

I don’t know if I can control this much damage. “Mr. Cooper, I assure you—”

“You know what? Fuck your assurances. Your boss promised me the top attorneys money can buy. God knows he’s asked for a fuckton of it, and then this is what I get?” He turns and looks furiously up at me. “A violent clown with a cat fetish and a useless girl who’s too much of a bitch to even show a little leg and some cleavage?”

My hands clench. “Why don’t we take one of the meeting rooms instead? I’m sure that—”

Even Claire seems to realize this is taking off beyond what she’d expected. “Sir, please, it’s just a—”

“Don’t you even start. If you don’t have a dick, you don’t get to talk, and if you aren’t spreading your legs, then I don’t have to fucking be nice to you, so shut the hell up while the adults are talking.” He glares back at me. “And by that I mean me.”

I know I should hold it back. Violence isn’t the answer. Everything with Claire is all fucked up anyway, but I’m done. My fist connects with his face with a jolt that sends needles up my arm. It hurts like a motherfucker, but it’s oh, so worth it.

Cooper falls back into one of my chairs, staring up at me wild eyed. “You’re insane!” His useless friend rushes over.

I take a threatening step towards them, just to watch him cringe.

Almost immediately, Claire’s clutching my arm. “Declan! Don’t!”

Cooper runs his hand along his jaw while glaring at me. If looks could kill, I’d be a black spot on the floor. He speaks slowly as he gets up, “I don’t fucking believe this. I’m going to fucking sue you, and this time with an attorney who actually knows what he’s doing.”

“What the hell is going on here?” Dad’s massive frame fills the door.

After living under the threat of “one more chance” for so long, it’s almost a relief to know that this was it. I don’t see how anything less than divine intervention could save my job, and right this second, I’m not sure I even want it.

I face my father, throwing my hands out. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll see my way out.”

“Wait!” Claire’s still hanging onto my arm, and she yanks me back so hard I nearly fall over. “This is my fault.” Her voice drops into a sob. “Crap.”

Dad looks at her in disbelief. “You did...” he gestures around the room, “This?”

“Yes,” she croaks. “Don’t blame Declan. I was so mad after the mess on Friday, and I thought... I thought it would be funny. I’m sorry. I’ll go pack my stuff. If anyone should go, it’s me.”