Page 56 of Over My Dead Boss
I grumble to myself, much like Phoenix always did, as my thoughts start racing, causing my head to spin.Maybe I should accept.I might need the car soon to find a new job or maybe I could sell it for a little rainy day fund. God knows, I might need it. Especially with the new medical bills coming up. On Friday, when dad was released, I gave the hospital my contact info so they could send all the bills and documents to me so that my parents won’t have to deal with any of it while dad is recovering.
“You still have that old phone of yours?” I ask Sienna, who has been eyeing me suspiciously.
She gets up, rummages around in a box stored under the bed and eventually hands me her old smartphone. I pop my sim in, attach it to the charging cable and wait for it to boot. Once it does, a myriad of missed calls and messages appear on the screen. First, I look through the calls: Isabella, Sienna, Phoenix.
“Probably wanted to check how you were doing,” Sienna says while looking over my shoulder. “I told him everything I knew, but you should call him.”
“I’ve got more important things to deal with.” I navigate to my messages. The first one is from Monday afternoon.
Isabella: Your ass is so fired.
Another message at 9 PM that same day.
Isabella: Good job. Ass unfired.
All throughout the week, there are messages that get increasingly less hostile, even to the point of being polite.
Isabella: Take as much time as you need. The office will still be here next week. Though we really should get everything signed, sealed, delivered, if you know what I mean.
“Looks like I still have a job?”
“That’s great. Is your rat of a boss finally entering her redemption arc?”
“Too early to tell, but highly unlikely,” I say as I navigate to the other messages. There is one from an unknown number.
Unknown number: I don’t know how you did it, Olivia Ray, but thank you. He changed his mind and I believe it might be thanks to you.
Olivia: That’s good to hear. How is he doing?
The response comes almost immediately.
Ryker: Even grumpier than usual, but we’re both quite busy with the new publishing company. He’s mostly been throwing himself into work, I guess.
Somewhat relieved, I put the phone down and empty the last sip of wine straight out of the bottle. Sienna gives a deep, gratifying sigh and pulls another out from under the bed.
The next morning goes accordingly. I have a slight headache that would probably be a lot worse if it hadn’t been for the night terrors that had forced me up in the middle of the night, giving me an opportunity to down an entire bottle of water and an Advil.
My stomach turns when I take the elevator up to the office. I don’t know if it is from the alcohol or the prospect of having to work for Isabella again. The office is empty. It looks just like it did when I left a couple of weeks ago. The computer’s fans whirl when I start it up and the sound makes me wince. Despite Isabella, I liked my job. It’s what I always wanted to do, but now it seems upsetting to me. The thought of having to endure her emotional outbursts, being treated like I don’t matter, not seeing Phoenix every day. After struggling to get out of my chair, I walk towards the kitchen to make myself some tea, but stop dead in my tracks when I see a big stack of papers. Written on the front:
Memorandum III by Phoenix Cyrus
The manuscript is laying on Verna’s table.
But how?How did it get here? I certainly didn’t send it to them.
Does it have an ending?I grab the stack and rush back to my desk, skimming over every part of the story, trying to figure out if it is, in fact, the book that Phoenix wrote and I edited. When I get to the last chapter, my breath stops for a second.
34
“Ooooolivia!” Isabella shouts with glee when she gets off the elevator and sees me sitting at my desk.
Shit. Not now.
“Come here, youuuu.” She walks straight up to me and gives me a hug that lasts much longer than I am comfortable with. “It’s so good to have you back!”
“Yeah,” I let out while still being squeezed. “How…”
“Oh, Liv, there’s so much we need to discuss. First of all, well done on the manuscript.” She nods towards my desk. “It’s so good, isn’t it? The perfect ending to a perfect series. That should make us more cash than I could spend on champagne in an entire lifetime. And to think, I had almost given up hope — and on you — but you came through, just like you promised.”
