Page 1 of Grumpy Alien Boss

CHAPTER 1

OLIVIA

"Revolution Rouge or Cincinnati Rose?" I hold up the two tubes of lipstick to my reflection. "What marketing genius came up with these names?"

The tubes mock me with their identical red hues. My hand trembles as I unscrew Cincinnati Rose. The more professional choice. Not that anyone would notice the subtle difference, but every detail counts today.

"You've got this." My reflection stares back, green eyes wide. "It's just an entry-level position at Rook Enterprises. No big deal."

Right. No big deal. Just the company I've dreamed of working for since I first read about their environmental initiatives in business school. The lipstick wavers as I trace the outline of my lips.

"Perfect." I cap the tube and toss it in my makeup bag. "Professional. Polished. Ready to change the world one spreadsheet at a time."

My tiny efficiency apartment barely fits a bed and dresser, but the rent eats half my savings each month. Worth it to be in Manhattan, where dreams are made. Or crushed. No, not going there.

Darwin Rook built his empire from nothing, turning a tech startup into a billion-dollar force for positive change. The man's a legend in sustainable business practices. His latest initiative redirected 80% of corporate profits into rainforest preservation.

"Stop fangirling over the CEO." I smooth my blazer, checking for wrinkles. "You'll probably never even see him."

The subway screech filters through my window, a reminder that I need to leave soon. My stomach knots as I gather my portfolio. The interview's with HR, maybe a department manager if I'm lucky. Just the first step on a very tall ladder.

The bus rounds the corner just as I sprint up to the stop. My footsteps echo off the concrete canyons as I dash to catch it. Thank god the driver sees me waving.

SNAP.

My left heel catches in the top step as I climb aboard. The momentum pitches me forward, but I catch myself on the fare box.

"Oh great." I fish out my metro card and swipe while retrieving the broken heel. The glossy black spike dangles by a thread of plastic.

Two construction workers in orange vests wave me over to their seat.

"We can fix, señorita. Jose has tools."

Jose pulls a metal strip and some tiny bolts from his lunch box while his friend holds my shoe steady. Their skilled hands make quick work of the repair.

"Not pretty, but strong now."

The industrial-looking metal bracket ruins the sleek designer look, but at least I can walk.

"You got this, girl." The woman across the aisle nods approvingly. "Shows initiative, solving problems on the fly. That's what they want to see."

"Darwin Rook loves that kind of thinking," adds a man in a business suit. "Innovation under pressure."

My spirits lift as more passengers chime in with encouragement. Maybe this isn't a complete disaster after all.

"Thanks everyone, really." I stand to exit at my stop.

"Hold up, honey." A gravelly voice belongs to an elderly woman in the back. "If I were you, I'd unbutton that blouse some. No one's gonna look at ya shoes if they're staring at your sweater meat."

The doors hiss shut behind me as I stand frozen on the sidewalk, watching the bus pull away.

"Sweater meat? I was today years old when I heard that one."

I round the corner and freeze. Rook Tower pierces the sky like a gleaming sword of glass and steel. The morning sun turns each window into a softly shimmering mirror, creating a dazzling display that puts every other building to shame.

My reflection wavers in the tinted glass as I approach the entrance. The metal bracket on my heel glints, an ugly reminder of this morning's mishap. A flash of the old woman's words echoes in my head.

"What the hell?" My fingers work the top two buttons of my blouse. The hint of cleavage looks... professional enough. Right?

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