Worst Boss Ever Read online

  “Oh, you’re so frustrating,” I muttered under my breath.

  “I’m frustrating?” He grinned. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, Miss Waldron.” He sat down again, opened a drawer in his desk, and pulled out a mini recorder, and handed it to me. “I suggest that you tape this just in case you don’t catch everything the first time. I expect you to do everything on my list, and I expect it to be done by today. You do not leave work until you have completed every task. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir. I understand.” He handed me the recorder and I looked at it thoughtfully “So do I press record now?”

  “That’s up to you, Miss Waldron. Use your brain.”

  I pressed my lips together. He was the most infuriating, aggravating, narcissistic asshole I’d ever met. And yet there was something about his snark and his banter that made me wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

  I was crazy. I was absolutely crazy. No wonder I was single. If I was attracted to assholes like this, I was never going to find Mr. Right.

  I pressed record and sat back. “Okay, you can go, sir. I’m ready whenever you are.”

  Chapter 7

  Abby

  * * *

  “I hate him. I hate him. I hate him!” I screamed into the apartment as I opened the front door. Hopefully, some of my roommates were home because I needed someone to complain to. “Is anyone home? I hate him!”

  “We’re in the living room,” Emma called, amusement in her tone. “Come on through.”

  “I’m coming.” I slammed the door behind me, dropped my handbag on the floor, and flounced into the living room.

  Dylan McAllister’s words popped into my mind as I realized I was being dramatic—not that I was going to let him stop me from being who I was.

  “Uh-oh. Good first day?” Isabella said sitting on the couch and staring off at me, a glass of wine in her hand. “Would you like some?” She nodded at the open wine bottle.

  I nodded gratefully. “Yes, please. Oh my gosh. I’m going to need ten bottles tonight. I didn’t know you were coming over tonight,” I added. “I thought you’d be with Jack.”

  “Oh, Jack had a business meeting tonight,” she shrugged. “Plus I wanted to hear how your first day went.”

  “Oh, it was horrible. I hate him.”

  “We gathered that,” Emma said dryly. “Want some crackers and Brie?” she said nodding towards the platter.

  “Oh yes, please.”

  “I got prosciutto as well.” Chloe held up a plate.

  “Ooh, yummy. I’m so hungry.”

  “Wow. You’re late,” Isabella said as she looked at her watch. “It’s ten. Your first day went that long?”

  “Yes,” I sighed loudly. “I just don’t know what to do. I can’t deal with this man. He’s infuriating. He’s rude. He’s—”

  “Uh-oh,” Emma said, “what happened?”

  “Let’s just say that he is the worst boss to ever exist in the history of bosses.”

  “Oh no. That bad?” Isabella handed me the glass of wine.

  I closed my eyes and took a long, deep sip. The warm liquid poured down my throat. And I could feel myself starting to relax. I needed this. I really, really needed this.

  “Um, let’s just say that if Mussolini and Stalin had a son, his name would be Dylan McAllister.”

  “Oh, shit.” Emma raised an eyebrow. “That bad huh?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “But I thought he was really good-looking,” Chloe said. “You were so excited. I thought it was going to be amazing.”

  “Well, he is very good-looking, but obviously he knows it. He’s like some spoiled rich kid, I think. He has to be born with a silver spoon in his mouth or something.”

  “I don’t think so,” Isabella said shaking her head. “I’m pretty sure I read an article on him in the New York Times last year. It said he was self-made.”

  “Really?” I was surprised. “Hmm. I could have sworn that he was the son of rich parents and inherited everything.” I pulled out my phone. “Let me see.” I quickly Googled him and read his Wikipedia page. “Huh. I guess I was kind of wrong.”

  “Oh?” Emma said. “Tell us. What’s his background?”

  “Well, it says here that his family life wasn’t stable and that he actually was in foster homes. But that he made his first million—oh, millions, by the time he was thirty. Oh, and he has a younger brother that’s his best friend.”

  “Ooh, I wonder if the younger brother is cute,” Emma said eagerly.

  “I’m sure he is cute. And I’m sure he is just as much of a jackass,” I sighed. “Listen to this bullshit. So my boss goes on dates, I guess weekly. I don’t know how often, but he has a certain type of flower that he wants me to send to his date when he goes on Friday nights.”

  “What?” Chloe said. “Are you joking? So you were meant to send flowers to his dates for him?”

  “Yeah. I mean, if you want to give the women flowers, fine, but be a gentleman and buy them yourself.”

  “Yeah. I wonder if his girlfriend knows?” Isabella says, “I would not be happy if Jack’s secretary was buying my flowers and gifts.”

  “Oh, girl. He doesn’t do girlfriends. He pretty much said today that he’s just a man whore who dates around.”

  “Well, that we already knew,” Emma said. “He’s always in the society pages with a different model or actress. He’s like the it-man, everyone is trying to bag him.”

  “Well, I feel sorry for the woman that does.” I made a face. “He would make an absolutely awful husband.” I pulled off my glasses and rubbed my eyes. “And oh my gosh, these glasses, I need to put in some contacts.”

  “You do look a little bit dowdy,” Isabella said and giggled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be mean.”

  “It’s fine. Trust me, girl. When I saw my own reflection this morning, I was like, who the hell is that?” I laughed at the memory. “Oh, well at least I don’t have to worry about him trying to sleep with me because I’m sure he’s the sort of guy that would get his rocks off and then fire you.”

  “Why don’t you just quit, though?” Chloe said, “It doesn’t sound like you even really like the job plus you hate your boss.”

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you guys? One good thing happened today.”

  “Ooh, what, Isabella? Did he kiss you? Oh my gosh, is he an amazing kisser?”

  “No, he didn’t kiss me. Of course not. He did, in fact, tell me that my salary is $25,000 a month and I’m getting a chauffeur-driven car to take me around because he has so many different things he needs me to do in the city. So, that’s cool. And my driver starts next week, Monday.”

  “Wow!” Emma’s jaw dropped. “Maybe he’s not so bad after all.”

  “Trust me. He’s worse than bad. I haven’t told you the half of it. Anyway,” I yawned, “I should probably have a shower and head to bed because I have to call ‘Mr. McAllister’ first thing in the morning to wake him up and tell him what appointments he has for the day.”

  “Oh, that sucks.” Isabella made a face. “I’m sorry, girl.”

  “It’s fine,” I sighed. “For this amount of money, I can suck it up, I suppose. At least I’ll put a significant dent in my bills.”

  “True enough.” Isabella nodded. “Want to go dancing this weekend? That might be fun. And it might be a way to refresh after your horrible week.”

  “That does sound fun,” I nodded. “I would love to go dancing. I need to let my hair down. I need to flirt. I need to get drunk. Yep, let’s do it. I can’t wait.”

  “Yay!” Emma said, “I’m excited. We haven’t been dancing just us four girls for a while.” She looked over at Isabella and paused. “Or is Jack coming?”

  “No, don’t worry. I’m not going to bring Jack.”

  “Good.” Emma said, “I mean, I love him. I think he’s really fun. But when you’re with him, your focus is on him and you’re kissing and la-di-da-di-da. And we can’t have a girl’s night if he’s
there.”

  “I know. I’ll tell him we’re going out.”

  “I hope he doesn’t get jealous,” I said.

  “What’s that mean?” Isabella said.

  “Come on now. You know he thinks you’re like the it-woman of New York City and that every single man wants you. He always feels like you’re going to—” I paused. “Well, I guess he doesn’t feel like you’re going to cheat, but he always acts like every man in the world wants you to cheat.”

  “It’s just because he loves me,” she smiled. “And it’s because when we were in London, a member of the Royal family hit on me and told me he would like to marry me and live with me in … I think it was either Bristol or Birmingham? I can’t remember.” She waved off the memory. “But let’s just say that Jack didn’t take it very well.”

  “You’re lucky, though,” I reminded her.

  “I know.” She nodded in agreement. “I hope you guys find a man like Jack as well, someone who will love and adore you as much as he loves and adores me. And of course that you feel the same way,” she smiled dreamily. “He’s just perfect.”

  I looked at Emma and Chloe. The expressions on their faces matched what I was thinking. We were so happy for Isabella, but we all wanted love as well. We all wanted to find that man who made our hearts race. The way things were going for me, it wasn’t looking likely, but at least I had something to look forward to this weekend.

  I was going to go dancing with my best friends and forget about everything. And by everything I meant everything that Dylan McAllister put on my desk. Today had felt like ten years all in one day. He’d been demanding. I typed up so many letters, proofread so many files. Made so many international phone calls. I’d even booked tickets for him and his brother to go to some show in Vegas the following weekend. It was ridiculous. He didn’t need a secretary. He needed a secretary, a housekeeper, a personal assistant, an executive assistant all rolled into one.

  And yet at the end of the day, when he told me we were done, I’d felt a little disappointed. Not disappointed that the work was done, but that I’d be leaving the office and not seeing him. There was an odd chemistry between us. He was hot. And every so often he would say things with such a wicked twist of humor that I actually liked him for a few seconds.

  He definitely was not the average guy in any way. He reminded me of the villains in Shakespeare plays, the ones you hated but loved so much, or Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights. He was an anti-hero, but I wanted to get to know that brooding handsome persona better—which was crazy.

  I was literally going crazy. It was probably because it had been so long since I’d been with someone.

  I hated the job. I hated him.

  But for some reason, I was still looking forward to going back to work in the morning.

  Chapter 8

  Dylan

  * * *

  “Come on, Dylan.” My younger brother, Kent, was a few steps ahead of me. “We’re going to be late.”

  “I think we’ll be right on time,” I said.

  My expression was sour because I didn’t really want to be here. I hated going to nightclubs. The music was always too loud. The people were always too close to you. It just … Well, it just made me feel claustrophobic, which was something I didn’t like to admit, even to myself. I was a strong, alpha male and nothing bothered me, but sometimes when people were too close, it reminded me of my childhood. And those were times I didn’t like to think about at all.

  “Come on, hurry up, Dylan. I thought you could walk faster than that.” My brother stopped and pointed at me. “Let’s go. Everyone’s waiting for me.”

  “Okay, Kent, I’m coming. I mean, who’s waiting for you? The strippers?”

  “We’re going to a dance club, not a strip club.” He laughed. “My friends. I mean, it’s not every day you get married.”

  “But this isn’t even your bachelor party, dude.” I rolled my eyes. “This is just hanging out with your friends at the club.”

  “But we’re celebrating the fact that I’m soon no longer going to be a bachelor.”

  “Which I don’t know what you’re thinking,” I grumbled as I caught up with him. “Why would you want to go and tie yourself down to one woman for the rest of your life? You know that means no more pussy.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” He rolled his eyes. “Married people have sex.”

  “I mean no more other pussy.” I laughed. “It will be Lucia’s pussy Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. And that’s if you’re lucky. It might just be one day a month. Or one day a year.”

  “Oh, bro, you have absolutely no idea what it is to be in love, do you?” Kent looked at me sadly.

  “I know you’re not feeling sorry for me.” I rolled my eyes. “I can have any woman that I want.”

  “Yeah, you can. But …”

  “But what?”

  “But do you really deserve them?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I mean, you can have any woman that you want, but all the women that you pick are infantile and snobby and superficial. Why don’t you go for real women?”

  “Who are the real women?” I asked. For some reason, a picture of my new secretary, Abby, came to mind. She was a real woman, but she was dowdy and frumpy. I bet even Kent wouldn’t tell me to be with her.

  “I don’t know, like a nurse or a teacher or—”

  “Boring,” I cut him off. “Come on, let’s go and dance.”

  “You’re going to dance tonight?” Kent looked excited.

  “Well, it is a dance club, right?”

  “Yeah, but you don’t normally dance.”

  “Well, I’m dancing tonight,” I said, just to get him to shut up. I hated dancing. I didn’t have the best rhythm, and I always felt self-conscious. I never felt like I was in power on a dance floor, unlike some men. I was in power when I was in the boardroom or the bedroom. That’s where my talents lay.

  “Okay, we’re here,” Kent said, pulling out his phone. “Let me text everyone.”

  “I thought you said we were late and that they were here already.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know where they are. If they’re on the dance floor already or by the bar—”

  “Okay, brother.”

  Even though I was annoyed, I loved him. Kent was my best friend. He was a part of me. Together, we’d come so far. I looked at his handsome face with his floppy blonde hair and his big blue eyes. He was a younger, more innocent version of me. I’d shielded him when we were younger, and I was glad to do so. He didn’t have the hard edges I had from being abandoned by our parents and going from foster home to foster home. I’d made sure that we were together through it all. I’d made sure that he was okay. I’d made sure when we had nothing to eat, he always had something. I loved my brother, and I did everything for him. That’s why I was at this club. And I knew he knew it. Kent would do anything for me as well.

  “Okay. They said they’ll be here in five minutes. Don’t be angry, Dylan.”

  “Why would I be angry? You were the one that was telling me to hurry up. You were the one that—”

  “Okay, okay. Do you want to go inside instead of waiting out here? I’ll buy you a beer or something.”

  “That’s fine. I’d rather have some cool air before we get hit on by the women of New York City.”

  “I know you think you’re a hotshot, bro, but they’re not going to know who you are in the club. You’re just another guy. They’re not going to know you’re a billionaire, that you’re the Dylan McAllister.”

  “It doesn’t even matter though, my brother.” I laughed. “One look at this face and they’ll be all over me.”

  “Well, I have the same face as you,” he said.

  “Yeah, but you’re engaged. And we both know Lucia would not be happy to hear that you were flirting around.”

  “Well, that is true,” he said. “But she did give me one exception.”

  “Oh? What’s the except
ion?”

  “She said that I could have a dancer at the bachelor party.”

  “She did not.”

  I was legitimately stunned. Lucia was the jealous type, and I could not believe that she’d allow him to have strippers at the bachelor party. What was going on? Had hell frozen over?

  “Well, I mean, she said she was going to hire the company.” He shrugged. “I don’t really know—”

  I laughed. “Dude, there’s not going to be any stripper or dancers. It’s most probably going to be some old grandma teaching you how to waltz or something.”

  “No, you don’t know that.”

  “Trust me, I know women like Lucia.”

  “Whatever, Dylan.” Kent frowned.

  I pressed my lips together. It was a little bit of a sore spot between us because the weekend that Kent had met Lucia she’d actually been making a play for me. I’d found her humor to be annoying and she had seemed to be too girly-girly. So I’d walked away and left her to talk to my brother, who had thought she was attractive and had enjoyed her humor. They had eventually gotten together, but sometimes I still like to tease him that I had been the one she was after initially.

  I heard a gaggle of feminine voices behind me, laughing about something. And all of a sudden, a weird feeling came over my body. I turned around. Did I know any of these women? There were four beautiful women who appeared to be in their mid to late twenties, dressed to the nines. Short skirts, high heels, hair done, and lots and lots of makeup. They hadn’t noticed me or Kent, which surprised me because normally women were all over us. It’s like they could sense we were rich. But these women were busy laughing about something. I heard one of them saying something to some girl called Isabella, who appeared to be the girl at the front, with long brown hair. She was pretty, but she was grinning too much for me. I liked someone with a good personality, but not someone who looked like they should be hosting a children’s TV show.