Page 18 of Over My Dead Boss
“Isabella? Are you alright? Are you… you’re not calling to fire me, are you? Because I really can’t afford to lose this job right now. If this is about me not being at work, I promise I’ll get the manuscript. I almost got it. I am quite close.” There’s nothing but dead silence on the line. Did she butt-dial me on accident? Called me drunk and dropped her phone in her whirlpool?
Dammit. What am I going to do if I get fired right now?
I look at the display but instead of Isabella’s name, it’s just two eyes staring at me, inspecting me, without blinking once. I get the distinct feeling that something is very wrong here. A shudder rushes through my spine when I suddenly feel my feet getting wet and wetter. A second later, I am struggling for air. I don’t know why, but I am sure that this is it. I am drowning.
10
Ijump up in bed and finally take a deep breath.
Thank god!
Dog is licking my toes as I am panting for air.
A nightmare. Just a nightmare.
Of course it was. And this one was intense. It would have been too nice if an expensive mattress could have fixed years of night terrors. I guess not. I call Dog onto the bed and give her a hug. She must have heard me struggling in my sleep and let herself into my room.
“Thank you, buddy,” I say as we both lay back down, my arms wrapped around her. “Did you hear me? Thanks for trying to help. You should meet the chairman some time, you two might hit it off. I mean, he’s kind of an asshole from time to time, but it’s all just an act. He’s really sweet once you get to know him.”
Dog yawns, rests her head on one of her paws, clearly not interested, and before long, she’s back to sleep. I lay awake for another hour or so, trying to bring my pulse back to normal, which is aided by the steady snoring next to me. I finally wake up for good when Dog gets out of bed and leaves the room. It’s 7.30 AM.
Oh no.
Grateful that no one came into my room this morning to steal my blanket, I run into the bathroom to get ready. The door to my room is closed and I wonder if Dog is not only able to open doors but has the manners to close them after her, too. I take a well-needed shower, brush my teeth and open the window. Despite the early hours, it’s already unusually warm for this time of the year. I throw on some high waist shorts and smell the shirt from yesterday. I only wore it for a few hours and it’s not like I have many options, so it’ll have to do. When I enter the living room, Phoenix just finishes another slice of pizza and gets up from his chair.
“Pizza for breakfast.” I observe. “The breakfast of champions.”
“Yup, I’m out of… well, food. I’ll go to the store later. I left you the slices with the most amount of pineapple. Why don’t you have breakfast while I go take Dog for a walk?”
“How very thoughtful of you, but no, thanks. I’ll come along if you don’t mind.”So that I don’t have to eat this for breakfast.
Phoenix looks me up and down, then motions towards my short pants and scrunches his nose. “You might want to put on something appropriate instead.”
“Oh, somethingappropriate,” I say as heat flushes through my face. “I am sorry, I didn’t know I had traveled to the 18thcentury when I came here. Am I not decent enough for you, Sir? Do my bare legs offend your watchful eyes?”
A grin grows on Phoenix’s face, apparently amused by my being offended at his sexist remarks. “Actually, you are right. I apologize. You can, of course, wear whatever you like. In fact, I think you look ratherdelicioustoday, if I may say so.”
Unsure if I feel more appalled or confused by his remark, I shake my head. “No, you may not. Let me just get my boots and we can go.”
The two of us leave the house and follow Dog’s lead down a narrow path that’s part of Phoenix’s extensive estate. I watch his towering figure from behind and try to focus on other things as I am reminded of last evening and his note.
But why is taking my eyes or my mind off him so unnecessarily hard?
The sun is peeking through the branches of the trees in the distance, not a cloud in sight. It looks like summer is coming early this year.
“Did you sleep well?” Phoenix’s voluminous voice echoes into the distance.
“Oh, actually, you wouldn’t believe the nightmare I had,” it bubbles out of me like a waterfall. After a solid fifteen minutes of me recounting everything from last night, and Phoenix not saying a single word, I finally finish my story as we come to a picturesque clearing inside the forest.
“Actually, I was talking to Dog,” Phoenix says and bends down to her without giving me a second look. “But that sounds interesting. What psychological issues do you think those dreams point to?” He picks up a stick and throws it over the entire clearing, Dog giving chase immediately.
“Well, Mr. Freud, I think dream analysis, like so many things about you, is a bit last century, but if I had to take a guess, the staring eyes might represent a condescending boss.” I swat at the large swarm of mosquitoes that is buzzing around me. “And the feeling of drowning probably points towards the threat of imminent homelessness and not being able to keep up with my bills.”
Phoenix nods and throws the stick once again for Dog to retrieve. A minute later, my arms and legs are full of puffy reddish bumps and it dawns on me why he told me to change my clothes.
His eyebrow raised, he watches me as I scratch my skin. “Probably should have—”
“Yup,” I cut him off. “Probably should have.”
