Worst Boss Ever Read online

  “Glasses and a bun? And I guess no heels, huh? I’ll wear my sandals.”

  “You can’t wear sandals to work.”

  “True. I guess I’ll wear flats.”

  “Yeah, wear that ugly pair that you got the other day.”

  “What ugly pair?” I glared at her.

  “You know, the ones that your mom gave you.”

  “Oh, yeah. The Doctor Scholl’s?”

  “Yeah, them.”

  “I guess so.” I made a face. “All of a sudden, I’m not feeling that excited about this job, guys.”

  “It’ll be okay, Abby,” they said in chorus, but I could tell from the expression on their faces that they didn’t really believe it.

  Chapter 2

  Abby

  * * *

  “Ugh … who the hell is calling me?” I groaned as I reached for my ringing phone. I glanced at the time. It was 6:02 a.m. What the hell? “Hello?” I yawned, about to go off on my random caller.

  “Is this Abby Waldron?” a deep voice asked.

  “Yeah, who is this?” I leaned back in my pillow wondering if I would be able to fall back asleep. I’d set my alarm for seven a.m., so it didn’t really leave me much time to get any more beauty sleep in.

  “This is your worst nightmare, Ms. Waldron.”

  I sat up then. “Is this some sort of prank? Who is this?”

  “This is your boss, Mr. McAllister, and your first day is already off to a bad start.”

  “Uhm, what?” I rubbed my eyes in confusion. “Isabella, are you on the call? Is this a prank? Are you using one of those weird voice changers?”

  “I don’t know who Isabella is, and no, Ms. Waldron, this is not a prank. This is your boss.”

  “Uhm, it’s six a.m. I’m not sure why you’re calling me.” I was flustered now. I didn’t think it was a prank.

  “It’s actually 6:05 now.” He sounded pissed. “You were supposed to call to wake me up at six.”

  “What?” I blinked. What the hell was he talking about?

  “Your first duty of the workday is to wake me up at six a.m. And you’ve failed.”

  “I didn’t even know—”

  “Didn’t you receive your first-day packet?” He sounded annoyed.

  What the hell was his problem? He should have been congratulating me on taking the job. Instead of berating me, he should have been sending me flowers or a first-day muffin basket or something.

  “Uhm, no…wait, maybe.” I sighed. “I did receive an email last night.” I hadn’t read past the first attachment as I’d been so focused on my first-day outfit. Shit! “But I mean, what’s the issue? You obviously already woke up without me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I mean, you’re obviously already up. You woke me up. And I didn’t ask for a wake-up call.”

  “You’re supposed to call me to wake me up and fill me in on all my appointments for the day.”

  “Every day?” I muffled a groan. Okay, it was official. This job was going to suck.

  “What part of your job description and schedule did you not understand?”

  “Uhm, I don’t believe I received an accurate schedule, or I would have been on top of it, Dylan.”

  “What did you just say?”

  “I said, I don’t believe—”

  “It’s Mr. McAllister,” he cut me off. “Make sure you’re in the office by seven with my coffee and croissant.”

  “But it’s 6:10 now, I don’t even—”

  But he’d already hung up. Jerk! Dylan McAllister was a jerk. I hated him and hadn’t even met him yet. This was not going to be the job of my dreams. I should poison his coffee—but then he’d most probably make me taste test it first and then I’d just kill myself.

  I let out a small scream into my pillow before rolling out of bed. I grabbed my phone and searched for the email I’d received the night before. If I was going to get his coffee and croissant, I had to know exactly what he wanted. I frowned as I looked at the addresses of the two stores. They were at least 45 minutes apart. The croissant place was in the Upper West Side and the coffee shop was close to Wall Street, which was close to the office. How the hell was I supposed to have a shower, put on my makeup, go uptown and then back downtown and get to the office, all within 45 minutes? It wasn’t going to happen. There was no way that it was possible. Even if I had a helicopter. I headed towards the bathroom and jumped into the shower. Not that I was able to enjoy it; I literally had time for a lick and a scrub before I had to get out.

  By the time I made it out of the apartment in my long navy skirt and loose white blouse, I had twenty minutes left to pick up my new boss’s coffee and croissant and get to the office. I couldn’t believe this was part of my job description. Couldn’t he get his own coffee?

  As I walked down the street to the subway, I checked out my reflection in one of the store windows. I looked frumpy and dowdy. My hair was piled on the top of my head in a tight bun, my glasses were thick, and I had on minimal makeup. I looked almost Victorian, and no runway in the world would have allowed me to strut my stuff in this outfit. I sighed as I looked at my phone. I had no time to get the coffee or the croissant. I was about to cross the street when I saw a halal food cart open on the corner. I hurried over and pulled out my wallet. I frowned as I took out a $20 bill. How was I going to be getting paid back for all these coffees and croissants? He wasn’t paying me enough to buy all of his meals.

  Chapter 3

  Abby

  * * *

  “Hi, can I get a coffee please?”

  “You want milk and sugar?” the man inside the cart growled. If I hadn’t been desperate, I would have told him to forget about it and gone on my way.

  “One second,” I said as I quickly looked at my phone.

  “How many sugars?” he asked.

  “Just a second. Sorry, I need to check to see if he wants milk and sugar.”

  “Fine.” The man rolled his eyes and stood there staring at me impatiently. I looked to my left and to my right. There was literally no one else outside the cart. I didn’t know why he had such an attitude.

  “I don’t suppose you happen to have croissants, do you?”

  “Croissants?” he repeated blankly.

  “I’m guessing that’s a no then.” If I didn’t love living in New York so much, I would definitely have moved already. New Yorkers were always in a bad mood.

  “Okay, latte, steamed oat milk, no sugar, turmeric? I don’t suppose you have turmeric, do you?” I said as I read from the email.

  “Croissants? No. Turmeric? No. Do you want sugar in your coffee or not?”

  “Just the black coffee, please.” I chewed on my lower lip. “Shit. And do you have any pastries or anything?”

  “We got bagels.”

  “Okay, I’ll take a bagel toasted, butter on the side.”

  “What type of bagel?”

  “Plain, I guess?”

  “Okay, one black coffee and one plain bagel toasted. That’ll be $5, please.”

  “Here you go,” I said as I handed him my twenty. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to be seeing this $5 back. It wasn’t the coffee that Mr. McAllister wanted and it certainly wasn’t a croissant from one of the best bakeries in the city.

  A moment later, the guy in the cart handed me the coffee and the bagel.

  “Thanks,” I said, holding my hand out for the change. He handed me a ten and five singles. I stared at him for a few seconds and then gave him a dollar tip. He shook his head and sighed, but I ignored him and hurried on my way.

  I didn’t have much time to get to the office now. I was going to have to take a taxi. Shit. I hadn’t even gotten my first paycheck yet and I was going to have to take a taxi. This sucked. I was lucky enough to hail a taxi right away and gave them the address to the office. As it sped off, my phone started ringing.

  “Please don’t be Mr. McAllister. Please don’t be Mr. McAllister,” I muttered to myself as I looked at it. It was my mom. “H
ey, Mom. I really can’t talk now.”

  “I know, dear, but Dad and I just wanted to say congratulations and have an amazing first day,” my mom sang into the phone.

  “Thanks, Mom. I appreciate it.”

  “Hold on. Your dad wants to say something.”

  “Mom, I—” But she didn’t listen to me.

  “Abby.”

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “I just wanted to wish you luck on your first day. Remember, listen to whatever your boss says and do what he says and you’ll be up for a promotion soon.”

  “I very much doubt it,” I whispered under my breath.

  “Sorry, what did you say, dear?”

  “Nothing, Dad. Will do.”

  “I was looking at the company on the internet,” he continued.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “And it’s a billion-dollar company. Did you know it’s in the Fortune 500?”

  “I did, Dad.”

  “They make a lot of money.”

  “Yeah, Dad. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to make a lot of money.”

  “You should ask your boss if you can get some shares in the company as part of your compensation.”

  “I really don’t think so. HR didn’t mention anything about shares.”

  “Well, tell them if they want you to stay, you need shares as well. They’ll most probably be worth double within a year. I was reading that—”

  “Dad,” I cut him off, “I am a secretary. They really don’t care if I stay at the company or not. I’m lucky to have gotten this job in the first place, so I’m not going to be asking for shares. And I really have to go because we’re about to pull up outside the office and I really don’t want to be late.”

  “Well, okay, dear. Your mother and I wish you the best of luck. Why don’t you come over this weekend for Sunday lunch?”

  “I’m not sure I—”

  “Abby, we haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks.”

  “I know, Dad. Fine. I’ll try and come for Sunday lunch.”

  “And bring your friends. We haven’t seen them either.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll ask what they’re doing.”

  “Okay. Love you.”

  “Bye, Dad.” I hung up with a sigh and closed my eyes. They were going to be so disappointed if I lost the job within a couple of days, and it’s not like they would understand that my boss was a jerk.

  My parents were old-fashioned. As far as they were concerned, the boss could do no wrong. I, as the employee, should do everything that he said. It didn’t matter if he was an asshole or a jerk. They would never see my side.

  My parents had been married for 35 years and they were old school. My mom was originally from England and my dad was originally from Guyana, but he had immigrated to England when he was a young boy and they’d met in high school. They’d fallen in love, gone to college, and then immigrated to the United States in the ’80s. They were a truly successful love story, and they were the reason why I believed in happily ever afters. I’d never found my own happily ever after, but times were different now. It was harder to meet the one. I was patient, though. At least, I was trying to be patient, but I didn’t really have time to think about that now.

  “That’s going to be $12, ma’am,” the cab driver said, and I realized we’d stopped.

  “Oh, sorry. Thanks.” I handed him the rest of the change that I’d gotten from the bagel guy and he just stared at me. “You can keep the change.”

  “Thanks,” he said, looking at the measly $2. What was it with New York service people? I mean, he’d only taken me a half-mile down the road. How much did he expect me to tip? There were so many rich people in New York who threw their money around that he was probably accustomed to twenty and one-hundred-dollar tips for barely anything. But I didn’t have time to worry about that now.

  I jumped out of the cab and looked at the building. It was beautiful. It was a tall building, though not as tall as some of the skyscrapers in the city, but it was classic New York architecture. There was a doorman standing outside, and I noticed the gold sign to the right of the door that said McAllister Corporation.

  Talk about vain. Who named a company after themselves? I mean, obviously, lots of people named companies after themselves, but I didn’t care about them right now. I only cared about Dylan McAllister, and I knew that this was going to be a very, very long day. I hurried up to the door and smiled at the doorman. He opened it.

  “Morning, ma’am.”

  “Morning.” I sauntered through and then made my way to the reception desk. Shit, I really hadn’t read the email properly. I had no idea where I was going.

  “Hi, good morning. Can I help you?” a bubbly blonde said as I approached the desk.

  “Hi, I’m actually here for my first day.”

  “Oh, you must be Abby Waldron?”

  “Yeah. How did you know?”

  “We were expecting you.” She beamed at me. “And not many people get to the office this early.”

  “Oh, well lucky them,” I said with a laugh.

  “I know,” she said, shaking her head. “But welcome.”

  “Thank you.”

  “My name’s Maria Anna.”

  “Nice to meet you, Maria Anna.”

  “You too, Abby. I hope you have a great first day.”

  “I hope so as well.” I knew immediately I was going to like her. “Can you tell me where I’m meant to go? I kind of forgot what floor.”

  “Oh, sure. So head down there,” she pointed towards the back of the lobby, “take the elevator on the right. It’s the only one that goes up to the 50th floor.”

  “Okay. I guess I’m going to the 50th floor, then?”

  “Yep.”

  “And when I get out of the elevator, do I go left or right or—”

  “Oh, you’ll see,” she said. “Trust me.”

  “Okay, then,” I said, nodding. “Well, nice meeting you. I’m sure I’ll see you later.

  “Have a great first day.”

  I hurried off down the elevator. I was late, two minutes late. Normally, I wouldn’t think it was going to be a big deal. But knowing Dylan McAllister as I already did, I knew that to him it was going to be a huge deal.

  I pressed the button, thankful when the elevator doors dinged open right away. I pressed 50 and stood back and waited. Each floor seemed like it was taking a decade to reach when finally, the 50th floor lit up. The doors opened and I stepped out.

  Chapter 4

  Abby

  * * *

  I looked around as I got off the elevator. It was amazing. The entire 50th floor was one big open-plan room. From the north, the south, the east, and the west, you could see the city. Even the walls next to the elevator were glass.

  “You’re late,” a voice said ominously.

  I looked around, but I didn’t see anyone. I took another small step forward. What the hell is going on here?

  “I said you’re late.”

  “Yeah, but I can’t see you …?”

  “Come through to the office,” the voice said.

  “Okay,” I said aloud, creeped out. I knew we were in the 21st century, but this was weird.

  Now that I was paying attention, I could see a large table all the way to the left of the elevator. There was a leather chair behind a big cherry wood desk. The chair had its back to me. I hurried over. As I approached the desk, the chair turned around. A pair of blue eyes gazed at me, and the man in the chair stood up.

  I stared at him, a little awed. He had to have been about six foot four with dirty blond hair and the most vibrant blue eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. He was wearing a dark gray suit that probably cost more than my yearly rent.

  “Good morning, Mr. McAllister. I have your coffee and your croissant bagel,” I said quickly.

  “You have my what?” he said, his eyes narrowing as I held out the cheap white coffee cup and a brown paper bag with the bagel.

  “So I wasn’t actually able to get the
croissant because it was all the way in the Upper West Side and that would’ve taken me—”

  “But you’re already late,” he cut me off.

  “Yeah, but I would’ve been even later if I would’ve gone there. I don’t really think that’s—”

  “Excuse me?” he cut me off again.

  “I mean, you should let me finish my sentences because that’s kind of rude.”

  “Kind of rude?” His lips curled up in derision. “Is today your first day or am I mistaken?” He looked to the side. “Because if it’s your first day, that would mean you’re on probation, and that would mean you should be doing everything you can to impress your new boss. And so far, you’re off to a pretty shitty start.”

  I pressed my lips together. I wanted to say more, but I realized he was right. He was the boss. “I’m so sorry, Mr. McAllister,” I said in my fakest sweet voice. “I totally messed up. I didn’t wake you up on time and I didn’t go to get your croissant. And unfortunately, I didn’t get you the latte with oat milk and turmeric.” I tried not to roll my eyes. “It’s a black coffee with no sugar, though, so hopefully it’s good. I got it from the halal cart near my apartment.”

  Already, I’d just about had enough. If he fired me then and there, I wouldn’t care. Yeah, making ten grand a month would’ve been nice, but it wasn’t worth dealing with an asshole.

  He took a sip of the coffee without answering me and spat it back into the cup. “Disgusting,” he said as he put it back on the table. He opened the brown bag and looked at the bagel and then looked at me. He handed me back the bag. “You can have it.”

  “Well, thank you. I didn’t get to have breakfast this morning, so it will definitely make my day to have this yummy, delicious bagel.”

  He stared at me for a few seconds, and I wondered what he was thinking. “You’re insolent, aren’t you?” he asked, but I don’t think he was expecting an answer.

  “So, Mr. McAllister, what would you like me to do? And …” I looked around, suddenly realizing I wasn’t sure where my desk was, “where do I sit? I’m not really sure—”