Page 8 of The Boss I Can't Stand
The mug landed in the basin with a thud. “Lord have mercy!” she cried, the Kansas popping out of her the way it only did when she was really taken by surprise. She coughed like I’d force-fed her poison. “Girl, what is wrong with you? This isn’t coffee, it’s jet fuel!”
I gave her an apologetic smile.
She wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her housecoat. “Is this why you’re so jittery?”
“No,” I groaned. “Well,” I amended. “Notjustthat. I’ve got the interview of a lifetime this morning, and I’m nervous as hell.”
“Oh, right,” she said, slinging herself down in the chair across the table. “Every Day Is Sunday?”
I nodded.
“But why are you nervous? That’s totally your wheelhouse. A period piece. The twenties. Classily dressed men and women.”
“I know.” I sighed. “It’ssoperfect for me.” The film was based on an absolutely stellar biography I’d devoured last year—the story of high-society Bostonian Evelyn Chisholm and her doomed romance with Tommy Lombard, a member of Boston’s Italian Mafia. “Not to mention it’s perfect timing with me being between jobs.”
“Exactly,” Ro said. “You’re going to rock it.”
“Before yesterday,” I muttered, “I might have agreed with you.”
Ro’s eyes narrowed. “I feel like I’ve missed an episode. What’s the problem?”
“Theproblemis it’s a Hart of Gold movie.” I put down my beading, groaned, and gave Ro a detailed play-by-play of my encounter with Finn Lockhart at In Stitches.
Ro’s jaw moved up and down like she couldn’t decide whether to be shocked or amused. “You charged him the asshole tax?” Settling on amused, she cackled, throwing her head back.
I dropped my head in my hands. “I did!”
“I love it!”
“It’s a disaster,” I said. “There’s no way I’m getting the movie after last night.”
“Well, in your defense,” Ro said, “it sounds like the guy was asking for it. Plus, maybe he won’t actually be at the interview. CEOs are busy. They’ve got shit to do. Probably more important things than interviewing a costume designer for one little production when he’s got a full slate of other projects.”
“Maybe,” I said, though I wasn’t hopeful. He’d recognized my name, had known about my interview. That seemed like a pretty clear signalhe was keeping a close eye on this project. Which meant, basically, that I was screwed.
In the light of day, and the cool of air conditioning, I felt really stupid for how I’d behaved. Anybody walking into In Stitches could be important. It’s how I’d made connections in the past that had led me to work. That’swhyI had my business cards on the counter.
I should have remembered all that before getting snippy with Finn. But, God! He was just so…unbearable! And he shouldn’t be allowed to bethathandsome if he was going to be that much of a jerk. It defied the rules of justice.
“No, seriously,” Ro said, trying to be supportive. She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Maybe that BTSB won’t be there.”
“BTSB?”
“Behind-the-Scenes Beefcake,” she said, cracking a smile. “That’s what he’s being called in the gossip rags after that sex scandal with Violet Stone.”
I frowned. It sounded vaguely familiar.That’sprobably why I’d recognized him. But Ro would know better than me. She’d been a fiend for gossip magazines since we were kids.
“Actually,” Ro started, “if heisthere, I think you should tell him exactly where to shove it.”
I snorted. “Oh, yeah, cause that’s gonna help this mess.”
“Seriously. You might think you went too far, but I don’t think you gave himenoughsass last night.”
“I wasn’ttryingto give him sass,” I said. Finn and his bigshot attitude just brought it out in me.
“Well, maybe he likes strong women,” Ro said. “Which would line upwith everything I’ve read about Violet Stone. If that’s the case, you’ll impress him by standing up for yourself. Or…”
“Or?” I said, defeat ringing through me.
