Page 19 of Conning Her Dragonkin Boss

Khanner’s wings fold to settle on his shoulders and drape down his back like a cloak. He’s one crown and sword away from looking like a deposed royal ready to battle to reclaim his throne. “Well, I will keep that in mind,” he says. “You did great work today, Sunny. I look forward to your recap email. I will make sure to CC you on the next quarter’s recurring events in the calendar.”

“Thank you for saying. I will look out for the notifications, Ser Rokoth.”

As Khanner shifts away, he pauses once more to level a molten stare at me. “If I am calling you Sunny, you shall call me Khanner.”

Well,yes, Ser.The demand makes my stomach twist in pleasant knots. “Of course. Enjoy the rest of your day, Khanner.”

Something flickers in his gaze before he turns away and joins his partners out of the conference room.

I take a moment to collect myself because I am boneless. Completely made of nothing but hot molten lava.

The rest of the executives and senior level management file out, and I exhale slowly, shoulders relaxing.

It’s over. And I didn’t just survive it, I aced it.

The only thing waiting for me now is a pile of reports and recap emails. I start distilling the key takeaways from the meeting in my head as I gather random trash and office debris left behind.

I gather my things, already mentally shifting gears to the reports I will write up at my workstation and the after hours drinks I still need to RSVP on.

Then—aping.

I glance at my tablet.

A notification.

Updated Calendar Event: Quarterly Board Meeting –April 14-16. Attendance Required

I swipe to see the full event information and I pause midstride. My stomach sinks seeing the familiar date.

I dig through my purse and pull out my planner, flipping pages with increasing dread until I land on?—

WYVERN’S DAWN COSPLAY CONVENTION – April 14-16

I stare at it then look back to my tablet.

The Quarterly Board Meeting.

My cosplay convention.

The same. Damn. Weekend.

I sink into the nearest chair, gripping my planner like it had personally betrayed me.

Oh. No. No no no no no no no no.

My dream convention—the one I’ve been planning for months, the one where I have the perfect cosplay lined up—is on the exact same weekend as a mandatory work weekend.

An event I was invited to personally by the CEO—and yes, perhaps my boss—because I just had to prove to myself I could kick ass.

Talk about flying too close to the sun.

I want to scream.

Instead, I sit there, silent and already mentally calculating my options.

Because this is a problem.

A big problem.

---