Page 22 of Like a Boss

The rest of the week is just as bad as the start, and when Friday rolls through, I welcome it with tequila and limes.

“I promise, as soon as I can afford my own place, Han, I’ll be out of your hair,” I assure her, tossing my dirty clothes into my makeshift hamper.

Hannah’s small apartment is barely big enough for her. But that’s the price she’s willing to pay for an apartment with a view.

“It’s fine.” She waves me off, pouring us shot number three. “I like you and your messiness.”

“At least someone does.”

“I still can’t believe you screwed with him that way, and you’ve still got a job.” She tosses back a shot, making a pained face the moment it goes down.

When she passes me mine, I relish in the burn. “Fire me for what?” I ask, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “For touching his precious books? I’ll sue his ass for unfair dismissal.”

“He’s fired people for a lot less,” she reveals, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Really?”

“Yes, which makes me believe under his tough exterior, he’s all gooey soft for you.”

Letting out a sarcastic laugh, I declare, “Soft? Did you not hear me when I detailed how he made me his personal slave all week?”

“Well, forget about him.” She waves further talks of Mr. Fox off. “It’s the weekend, baby, and we’re going to not remember it.”

When she holds up two shot glasses, I drop the basket and happily reach for one. “I’ll drink to that.” We toss back our tequila, both opening and closing our mouths in distaste.

“Okay, let’s do this!” I slam my glass on the counter.

“You’re not wearing that are you?” Hannah pulls a face while sucking on a lime.

“Yes, why?” I look down at my jeans, Chucks, and off-the-shoulder black tee.

“I may or may not have mentioned to Ken that you were coming tonight,” she playfully reveals, but I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“Who?”

“Ken,” she repeats, but it’s not ringing any bells. She throws in another clue. “The hottie I introduced you to at lunch yesterday.”

“I have no idea who you’re talking about. Did I even eat lunch yesterday?”

Hannah bursts into fits of laughter. “Yes, although you were hacking into your steak like you were envisioningit to be someone’s face.”

Ding! Ding! Ding!

“Oh yeah, now I remember.”

“Who, Ken?”

“No, the steak,” I clarify.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. Throw on that little black dress which shows off your assets,” and she winks.

Rolling my eyes, I reply, “No offense, Han, but the last time I listened to you and showed off my assets, I got screwed, literally, by my boss, who just happens to be a pig. Actually, pig is a compliment, as I actually like pigs.”

Hannah is holding back her smile.

“What’s so funny?” I prop my hand on my hip.

“You so wanna fuck him.”

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