Page 19 of Cocky Jerk

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As soon asI got into the office, I didn’t call my dad. I gave Penelope my license and we got to work with the new-hire papers. An hour later I was officially an employee at the “Ask Ida” advice column with access to the server and the thousands of emails, all from people who were seeking wisdom from Ida.

Soraya was locked in her office on a phone conference with Ida, but she had left specific instructions for me to review past published works. The idea was for me to get a feel for how to respond to the questions in an appropriate manner. Apparently, telling a cheating asshole he should get gangrene on his dick is not an acceptable response for the column.

A little before lunch the door to Soraya’s office opens. I tear my eyes away from the cheating scumbag’s email and straighten in my chair. Soraya steps out of the office and I immediately note she looks pissed.

“God, that fucking woman is infuriating,” she hisses as she flips her long locks over her shoulder. “Penelope!” she bellows. “If Ida calls again, tell her I’m not here.”

“Where should I say you went?” Penelope questions.

“I don’t care what you tell her. Tell her I died if you have to, just do not put me on the phone with that woman,” Soraya replies.

Whoa.

That’s quite the contrast in attitude. Yesterday she was so inviting and understanding, today she’s acting as though Ida pissed in her Cheerios.

She must sense me staring because she quickly turns to me. The look of annoyance vanishes from her face as she sighs.

“Oh, good, you’re working,” she says, heading for my cubicle. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to get into the system without a license.”

My mind instantly wanders back to Marco and I’m even more grateful I didn’t have Mouse fix me up with a phony I.D.—that would be fun to explain to my already pissed boss. Forcing a smile, I shrug my shoulders.

“So, a funny thing happened last night…when I got home Officer Pirelli was waiting for me with my license.”

Her dark eyebrows arch curiously and she leans a hip against my cubicle.

“Marco had your license?”

“Yeah, he said he went back to where he pulled me over and found it lying in the middle of the street. Crisis averted.”

A devilish grin works her lips as she crosses her arms under her chest.

“Is that right?” she questions, smugly.

I think I like angry Soraya better. The cat who ate the canary look doesn’t really suit her and I don’t feel comfortable having her assume there is something going on between me and her friend. Sure, it was nice of him to give me my license, and I’ll even give him some points for playing the role of my boyfriend, but that’s it. We’ve got a date in traffic court, and I plan on beating those tickets—I don’t care how hot he is.

Attempting to divert the conversation, I turn my computer screen toward her, but she doesn’t take the bait.

“What?” I question.

She shakes her head.

“Nothing,” she replies.

“Right, okay, so…these submissions are—”

My words get cut off as Penelope’s voice sounds.

“Soraya, Marco—er, I mean, Mr. Pirelli, is on holding for you on line two.”

The shit-eating grin spreads wider on Soraya’s face and I silently curse Marco as she turns on her heel and heads back into her office to take the call. When she’s out of sight, I slam my head against the keyboard.

“Speak of the devil, and he will appear.”

Chapter Seven

Marco

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