P.S. Never in a Million Years (Cupid in the City Book 1) Read online

  P.S. Never in a Million Years

  J.S. Cooper

  For my Great Aunt Lilian Enid Waldron,

  November 1923- January 2022

  I will miss you!

  Contents

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Acknowledgments

  Blurb

  To My New Boss

  You are an asshole. Maybe I’d even call you a boss hole. We’ve never even officially met because you’re worried all of your lower assistants will “fall for you and make a pass.” You sent your executive assistant to give me a list of “to-do’s” that were so basic I thought I was in preschool. And let’s not talk about your “never-do’s.” You can only wish I would make a pass. You would be so lucky as to even catch a glimpse of my fine ass. In fact, why don’t you kiss it instead? Jerk.

  Also, I’m not taking a vocabulary or algebra test. Just because you’re the CEO doesn’t give you the right to be pompous and arrogant. And frankly, I saw that photo of you in the newspaper last year; are you cousins with the yeti? Not a good look.

  You can keep your $25 an hour. My self-respect is worth more than that. And no, I’m not interested in any of your other offers.

  Marcia “I have self-respect” Lucas

  * * *

  P.S. Never in a Million Years

  * * *

  I’m not crazy—I never intended to actually send the email. It was just a draft email I wrote to vent. I needed the paycheck way too much to go off on my boss. Only when I went into the office the next day, there was a note on my desk. It read, “Got your email. A million years is up. See me in my office. Your boss, Finn ‘The Yeti’ Winchester.”

  My dad was right: my mouth would eventually get me into trouble. Only he had no idea just how bad the trouble was going to be.

  One

  “I got the job. I got the job!” I sang to the beat of “I Saw The Sign” as I ran into my tenth-floor studio apartment looking for my best friend, Susie. She was sitting on the worn tan leather couch that we’d found outside a brownstone in the West Village, chewing on a black pen and staring at some papers on her lap.

  “What are you doing?” I headed over to the couch, pausing to admire the Persian-looking rug I’d picked up at a flea market a few weekends previously. The reds stood out against the dark wood floor. And even though the fabric was ratty, it was better than the deep scratches in the wood that the previous renter’s illegal tiger had created. I had a feeling I already knew what Susie was studying so intently, and I didn’t really want to hear the answer. I was the sort of person that liked to live in La-La Land for as long as possible.

  She looked up at me with a furrowed brow and made a face. Her lips were stained black by the pen, indicating to me that she’d been working on our finances for at least a couple of hours. “I’m trying to figure out how much money we need to pay off our bills this month.” Her light brown eyes were filled with worry.

  My heart started to pound uncomfortably. That expression meant things were not looking good. Which I’d already known, but I preferred to forget that our bank account contained less money than the piggy bank of Jason Lowenstein, a five-year-old I’d babysat on the Upper East Side just the week before.

  “Oh, we’ll figure it out,” I said, trying to stay upbeat. “Don’t worry about it, Susie. Didn’t you just hear me? I got the job. We’re in the money!” I danced around the room, twirling like I was still in second-grade ballet class. “Today is a good day. I also won $20 on the scratch-off as well.” I didn’t tell her that I’d spent $40 before finally scratching off the winning ticket.

  “Oh, congratulations. Marcia. That is absolutely amazing.” Susie dropped the pen and papers on the couch and jumped up to give me a hug. “So how much are you getting paid, and… Okay, well, let me just back up a little bit. Which job did you get? Not the executive job?” There was disbelief in her voice, which offended me a little, but she was right to be skeptical.

  “Well, I got a job.” Just because I’d gone in for an executive job didn’t detract from the job I’d actually gotten. A job was a job. And who cared about small things like job titles?

  “What do you mean you got a job?” Susie’s smile dropped from her face faster than a groupie’s panties drop for Adam Levine. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to be working as a secretary for Mr. Singh on the fifth floor. We both know his 'Adopt a pet chicken as an emotional support animal campaign’ is not going anywhere.”

  “Poor Mr. Singh would be devastated to know you think so little of his latest idea.” I held my head up high and sniffed at her. I imagined that’s how members of the royal family gazed at commoners who deigned to say something rude to them. “But anyway, no, I’m not working for Mr. Singh… again. I mean, I didn’t get the job I applied for, but I got a job.”

  “So, tell me more about this job.” Susie pressed her lips together. I knew that she was being patient with me. Neither one of us had expected me to get the actual job I’d applied for, though I’d secretly hoped for a miracle. There were stranger things than me getting a job I had zero qualifications for. Shit, half the actors I saw on TV couldn’t act to save their lives. They were truly just getting by on their looks. Just once, I’d like to get by on my looks as well. It wasn’t like I’d applied to be the president of the United States.

  “So, as you know, I submitted my application to become president of marketing at Winchester Enterprises.”

  “Yeah, girl. I’m not sure what you were thinking.”

  I shrugged. We both knew I had zero qualifications to become the head of marketing. I’d never marketed anything before in my life, aside from myself on dating apps, and that hadn’t worked out very well. I was a whiz at making myself look better in Instagram photos, but that was all thanks to an app on my phone.

  “I was thinking that God would hear my prayers, and they would be open to on-the-job training,” I giggled. “But anyways, I didn’t get that job, even though it would’ve been amazing because it paid $250,000 and we both know how far that much money would go.”

  “Marcia, you don’t even have any experience with marketing,” Susie pointed out. You probably would have been sued by Winchester Enterprises for a refund of your salary.”

  “That’s not exactly accurate. I mean, I’m on social media all the time.” I grinned. “But fine. Yeah. They said the same thing to me, you don’t have the requisite qualifications, blah, blah… but it turns out they were looking for a bunch of temps, so…” I flossed from side to side. “Your girl has sold out to the corporate giants.”

  Susie’s face fell. “You got a job as a temp? Doesn’t that mean you won’t have the job forever?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, that’s part of the name. Temporary. But if I do well, I can stay, and they’re looking for more people, so I think you can get a
job there too.”

  “I don’t know.” She pouted. “I was really hoping to try and get a job as a substitute teacher.”

  “Girl, you do not want a job as a substitute teacher. Plus this job is paying $25 an hour. If we’re both making $25 an hour, that’s $50 an hour.”

  “True.”

  “And we’ll be able to pay off everything really soon if we’re making that kind of money. What do we owe right now, anyway?”

  “We owe electricity. We owe water. We owe gas. We owe two months’ rent, also cable and internet. I think they’re going to turn it off soon.”

  “No, they can’t turn off the cable and the internet! How are we going to watch our shows?”

  “Do you honestly think the cable company cares, Marcia?”

  “Well, perhaps if I call them and…”

  “Call them and what?”

  “Say that you moved out.”

  “Then they’ll just turn the service off.” Susie was fast losing patience with me.

  “But then I could reopen the service in a new name!”

  “Isn’t that illegal, Marcia?”

  “Hey, I’m not Marcia. I’m Anne.” I grinned at her. “Anne Baxter.” I changed my voice. “Hello, I’m Countess Anne Baxter of Chickentopia, and I would like to establish service at my new residence.”

  “Oh my gosh. No.” Susie giggled and shook her head. “You cannot do that again. Girl, they threatened to call the cops on you for impersonation last time.”

  “What last time? You mean when I tried to get the free pizza? That was different. We’re just trying to get by right now. We’re two young, independent single women in the city, and we haven’t quite found our groove yet.”

  Susie grimaced. “Yeah. You can say that again. Sometimes I think we’d be better going back to Florida.”

  I put my hand up in a stop gesture. “No! We are not going back to Florida.”

  “Yeah, but we could live at home—”

  “Girl, we’re twenty-five. Do we want to live at home?”

  “No, but at least there was a swimming pool and—”

  “And your mom and dad’s rules, and I know that my mom and dad also had crazy rules and no, no, no, no, no!” I was almost screaming now. “If we give up now, we’re never going to make it, and we’ll end up marrying two bozos and living in the sticks.”

  “I don’t know about the sticks.” Susie looked put out. “Orlando’s not exactly the sticks.”

  “Drive thirty minutes in any direction, and where are you?”

  “Fine. We’ll stay here, but you need to start bringing in some money—”

  “I will have a paycheck at the end of the week because I start tomorrow, and guess what?”

  “What?” she said through narrowed eyes.

  “We get paid every week.”

  “Okay, well that does sound good.”

  “And if you come with me tomorrow morning, I bet I can get you a job as well.”

  “Hmm, I’d rather you ask them first before I come. What exactly is the job?”

  “To be honest, I don’t really know. They said they needed a little bit of this and a little bit of that.”

  “Oh my God, Marcia. What does that mean?”

  “I guess it means they’ll need a little bit of this and a little bit of that.” I had been thinking about which handbag I’d use on my first day when the supervisor had talked about the duties. I mean, it wasn’t like they wouldn’t tell me again.

  “But what’s a little bit of this and a little bit of that?”

  “I don’t know. Receptionist, secretary, PA, EA, whatever. I’ll do it.”

  Susie sighed. “Why do I have a feeling this job is not going to last long?”

  “Trust me. I’m a good worker.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Marcia, you hate working. You said you wanted to get married to a billionaire and live a life of luxury.”

  “Yeah, well I haven’t met any billionaires, or even millionaires, and I’m not exactly living a life of luxury.” I looked around our cramped studio apartment. “I mean, come on now. We barely have space to throw a rat in here.”

  “Do not even tempt fate. You know, I heard something the other night.”

  “It was probably our neighbors.”

  “In our apartment, in the corner, chewing on my shoe?”

  “What? It was just a friend coming to say hello. Maybe it was Ratatouille.”

  “You know you’re a fool.” She was trying to look mad but she giggled anyway.

  “I know, but shall we go out tonight to celebrate?”

  “Celebrate what?”

  “My new job, of course.”

  “Girl it’s not like…” She paused and sighed. “Fine. We’ll go out tonight and celebrate, but we’re not spending a whole bunch of money. We can get one drink each.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I feel like you’re my husband.”

  “I’m a woman.”

  “Well, then I feel like you’re my wife.”

  “We’re not lesbians.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I do,” she grinned. “But until we’ve paid up all our bills, we can’t afford to spend a lot of money.”

  “But we have credit cards.”

  “And we also have credit card bill payments.”

  I groaned. “Oh my gosh. I love you, Susie. You’re my best friend, but sometimes…”

  “Sometimes what?”

  “You annoy me.”

  “Why? Because I’m trying to keep you out of the poor house?”

  “Girl, look where we live,” I giggled. “We’re already in the poor house.”

  “Yeah, and we need to save so that we can get to the rich house.”

  “Yeah, that would be nice. I mean maybe we…”

  “Don’t even say we’re going to get there on our temp salaries, girl. We’re not going to be making enough money to move into a two-bedroom apartment off of Central Park making $25 an hour.”

  “Well, maybe if I get that president job.”

  “You’re not getting that president job,” she giggled. “You don’t even have the qualifications.”

  “What? I have a bachelor’s degree.”

  “In art history.”

  “So. Maybe I’ll become president of a museum.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sometimes…”

  “What?” I said innocently.

  “Nothing.” She gave me another quick hug. “I’m proud of you, though. I’m glad you got a job.”

  “Me too. We really do need the income,” I admitted. “And who knows? Maybe they’ll see my skills and realize that I could be president.” I paused. “Okay, or if not president, I’ll get a permanent job. Maybe something that pays a little bit better.”

  “That would be cool. And yeah, I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon, if they say it’s okay. It does pay more than substitute teaching, and I guess I won’t have to be around little kids.”

  “Because you know little kids annoy you.”

  “I didn’t say they annoy me. I just—”

  “Girl, you lasted one month as a nanny.”

  “Fine. They annoy me,” she laughed. “Okay. Shall we get ready?”

  “Sounds good.”

  We both walked to our small sections of the room and started to change. I smiled as Susie put on some music. I loved living with my best friend, and I loved that we were so close. I never wanted that to change—even though I did want our apartment to quadruple in size.

  Two

  “So, Susie, tonight we shall party. Let’s paint the town red.” I grabbed my best friend’s hands and spun her around in glee. No one paid any attention to us. There was always a weirdo doing or saying something in the streets in New York City. I started dancing, feeling happy. “Let’s pop bottles in the sky and…” I sang along to a made-up beat.

  “Wow, Marcia…” Susie looked like she wanted to laugh. “I said we could have
one drink. We’re not going to be popping any bottles of anything. You just got a job as a temp. I mean, I’m happy you did,” she added quickly when I pulled a sad face, “but we still need to save as much money as possible.”

  “I know, but a couple of drinks won’t break the bank. Come on, Susie!” I spied the bar on the corner, The Owl and the Pussycat. There was an illustrated sign of an owl and pussycat in a boat at sea under a crescent moon. “Let’s dance the night away and have some fun. I know you’ve been the caretaker of our finances since we got to New York, but we’re on the right track now.”

  “Okay, fine.” She looked down at her black dress. “I guess I didn’t get dressed up for nothing.”

  “Exactly, chica. We’re hot. We deserve to have some fun.” I grabbed her hands again. “We’re living our dream, Susie. Granted, we’re not where we want to be yet, but we can see the light.” I grabbed the lipstick from my handbag and reapplied it. “How do I look?”

  “Beautiful as always.” Susie smiled at me warmly. Her light brown eyes surveyed my face and she gave me a thumbs up.

  Susie’s long black hair hung in curls down her back. She was a little skinnier now than when we’d arrived, and I knew it was due to stress. We’d moved to New York together, and we’d underestimated how easy it would be to get good-paying jobs. I also knew this had been more my dream than hers. She’d come with me because I’d begged her to, but I knew she would be just as happy in Florida. Sometimes I felt guilty about everything, but I couldn’t have survived without her.