Page 59 of You're the Boss

Theodore:What do you have left to do?

Me:I have to gather the data from the Sango project.

Theodore:That’s not a priority. My empty stomach is.

Who was this man and what had he done with the monster boss who demanded overtime to get all the work done on the planned day?

Me:…Are you telling me to end my day before I’m done with my work, sir?

Theodore:Feeding me is part of your job.

Me:Technically, it’s not.

Theodore:Neither is arguing, but you’re doing that.

I brought my fist to my mouth and coughed into it to hide my laugh.

Me:…If I agree to this, can I do yoga and take a bath first? If your call is nothing but arguments, it’s going to go on for at least another hour with Mr Govind there.

Theodore:Don’t point that out.

Theodore:Fine. Go do your yoga and take a bath.

Theodore:And don’t say I never do anything nice for you.

Me:Yes, sir. You are a most gracious and thoughtful boss.

Theodore:Does that mean you’ll change your mind about resigning?

Me:You’re not *that* gracious and thoughtful, sir.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN – CHLOE

Please Put On A T-shirt, Sir

I interlaced my fingers and stretched my arms out in front of me, making one of my knuckles pop.

“Ah,” I gasped as the little ‘knock’ rang through the air and reached my ears. “That felt good.”

There really was nothing like cracking knuckles after typing for a long time. I couldn’t do it in the office because the sound of popping joints apparently gave Melody ‘the ick,’ as she put it, and I tried to refrain from doing it around Theodore because…

Well.

It was a bit of a bad habit of mine, and it was easier to keep some kind of distance between us if I kept up the air of perfect professionalism.

That very same air was why I was sitting at the dining table on a Saturday morning, writing up the report I’d delayed last night. I’d timed my working minutes perfectly, and I’d managed to only go over by ten minutes.

I wasn’t going to demand overtime for that.

Really, if I’d just done it yesterday instead of listening to a certain someone whining about how hungry he was, I’d have had it done during working hours.

The drawn-out exhale of a yawn filled the air, and I turned towards the source right as another one erupted from the half-asleep, half-naked man who was responsible for it.

This was the third time this week.

Him showing up half-naked, that was. Not half-asleep.

For someone who was often running downstairs at the last minute, he was surprisingly chipper on a morning.

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