Page 38 of Romance with Mr. Bossy Pants

“I’m the receptionist. I hear and see everything. Besides, I saw the article, and if Paul has been running around like a headless chicken downstairs, it can only mean there’s fire on the mountain.”

She gives me a small smile as she washes her hands and grabs a dry napkin.

“I came up here to check on you, Chloe. You okay?”

I nod. “Show me the article. I haven’t seen it yet.”

She reaches in her jacket pocket and pulls out her phone.

Ugh. True to word, the blasted write-up glares back at me, and suddenly, Daniel’s fury makes sense. And again, it’s my fault. Who could blame him for his outburst?

“You know, when I first started working here, I was as green as a spring leaf. I couldn’t find my footing even if it were taped to my shoe.”

“Sounds rough, like my situation right now.”

“Oh, it was,” she answers, tossing the napkin then turning her full attention on me. “Within my first week, I damaged two MacBooks and three photocopy machines and gave Daniel’s favorite shirt a permanent marker stain. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Where is she going with this?

“I was basically toast. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me.”

Oh, there it is.

“I have a vision, Chloe. I haven’t gotten there yet, but I’m still holding on one year later. I guess what I’m trying to say is for you to not give up. Daniel is tough, but he’s not the end-all, be-all. You gotta water your garden. Don’t let him stomp all over your dreams like they’re a bunch of daisies.”

I frown, but Sarah quickly recovers, “Yeah, yeah, I know I’m terrible at giving pep talks, but you get my point.” She puts a hand on my shoulder. “I think I got a solution for you. You should get Daniel his favorite snacks and leave them in a basket on his desk.” Sarah goes on to rattle off a list that includes charcuterie boards, Berco’s gourmet popcorn, chocolate-covered espresso beans, and macarons.

“How do you know all of this?” I raise an eyebrow and Sarah wiggles hers.

“The front desk hears it all, remember?” She grins. “Daniel sometimes has these things delivered after a bad meeting.”

Sighing, I say, “Got it. Thanks, girl.”

I lean against the sink and pull up the article again on my phone. If someone dragged my name through the mud, I’d be spitting fire, too. And, given that I pulled him into the mess, it’s only fitting for me to make things right. I decide to give this job another shot and dash out of the office to gather the eclectic snack collection and hurry back, my heart pounding with a blend of nerves and probably a little excitement. My buzz of anticipation follows me through the elevator ride, but as I step into Daniel’s office, it vanishes when I see him pacing like a caged lion. He stops when he sees me and levels me with a glare that could freeze lava.

Suddenly, I can’t form a coherent sentence. “I…I saw the article that upset you earlier. It’s undeniably my fault, but I wanted to make amends. So, I brought these,” I tell him as I place the basket on his desk.

Daniel looks through the basket quickly. “What is this? A joke? I’m not a toddler that needs a snack to calm down.”

I reel from the harshness in his tone. “I just thought…”

“That’s actually part of the problem. You always try to fix things when the damage is already done. Plus, my company’s reputation and the Nexus deal are on the line. In the real world, snacks don’t fix these types of problems. What I need is a statement from you clearing this misunderstanding up.”

Daniel’s words slap me across the face, a slap that sets off my pent-up frustration.

“Oh, so let me guess. In your ‘real world,’ kindness is a weakness, and being thoughtful is a crime? In your ‘real world,’ kindness is just a ploy to what – get favors? Well, let me tell you something, Daniel; I’m not trying to get ahead or score brownie points with you. I’m being nice because that’s who I am, and if you can’t appreciate or acknowledge how your team goes above and beyond for you, then that’s part of the real problem, not mine!”

I don’t realize that I raise my voice until I stop to catch my breath, and I see Daniel’s eyes bulging.

“You’re out of line—”

“No. You’re out of line. My place is wherever I earn it to be. And right now, I’ve earned the right to stand here and tell you that your attitude is not only unprofessional, it’s downright cruel. That article isn’t all wrong. Take a look in the mirror, Daniel. Would you talk to yourself the same way you talk to your employees? You treat us like we’re disposable when we’re the ones running your company while you sit on your throne.”

Daniel is speechless. Or he can’t decide if he wants to be. His mouth keeps opening and closing. It’s clear he’s never been challenged like this before. I could care less. He needs a dose of his own medicine.

“And another thing,” I continue, my voice shaking with anger. “Being nice isn’t a strategy. It’s called being a decent human being. If that doesn’t fit into your corporate philosophy, then maybe it’s time for a change in leadership. The world has enough tyrants, and it accomplishes nothing.”

The silence hangs heavy in the air. Daniel hasn’t quite recovered from his shock, and for a moment, I fear I may have given him a panic attack. But then he clears his throat and growls, “I’m warning you, Chloe. You’re treading on thin ice.”

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