Page 1 of The Proposal Pact
Prologue
“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.” — Louis L’Amour
Sophie
The rim of my coffee cup barely grazes my lips when it goes flying.
“Sophie!!!” Hemorrhoid—in certain circles also known as my pain-in-the-ass boss, Daniel—screeches my name from across the room, and that sweet lavender latte doesn’t make it into the right hole.
Oh no. His shrill cry catches me so off-guard—which, I’ll admit, is a rookie mistake on my part—that I jump, effectively pouring half the cup of my coffee down my blouse.
My crisp, white blouse.
I close my eyes for a brief second, taking a deep calming breath before I have to force myself to look down and assessthe damage. Let’s look at the bright side, at least it’s already cold because this is the first time to day I’ve had the chance to get to it.
On the down side, I don’t have any of that magical, calming lavender my best friend Grace swears by, before I have to deal with my boss. Nope, now I’m wearing it instead. Hey, maybe it’ll work better than ingesting it?
Because I’ve been adding that little purple crap to everything and no magic is happening here.
No sirree.
Magic doesn’t live here.
Magic had fled the house, vacated the premises, boarded the ships, ran down the sewer lines, and all other metaphors I can’t think of right now as the cold and wet silky material clings to my chest.
Maybe I was born without any. It must’ve all gone to my older, wiser, better-looking, all-put-together brother, Vassar. Yep, that’s it.
Or I’ve simply already used up what little of it I had, and I don’t see any glitter wells anywhere near me to replenish it. Nope, just endless gray cubicles with asshole bosses.
There’s no going back, Soph. The big, wet spot won’t magically disappear from your blouse.
Might as well deal with it. I take another breath, leaving all of my philosophical thinking for the subway ride home later, and I’m just about to get up to go to the bathroom when the owner of that beautiful nickname appears out of thin-freaking-air.
“Coffee…she’s drinking coffee, ladies and gentlemen.” The asshole clucks his tongue against his teeth as I yelp, my surprise sending my half-seated, half-standing body toppling over my chair and onto the ground, scraping the side of my hip on my way down against the glass table.
“Ouch,” I murmur.
“What the fuck are you doing on the floor?”
What does it look like, asshole?I think angrily but inside the safety of my head as I stare at his perfectly styled blonde hair.
There is a running bet going on in my own head, with just me, myself, and I—because no one else cares—about how soon all that hair will fall out from the amount of productDaniel uses.
“Just missed my chair,” I answer, getting up and back into my seat with a wince.
“For fuck’s sake! Do I look like I have the whole day to sit here and wait for you to do your damn job while you’re lounging around the office, drinking coffee?”
“I wasn’t—”
“Ugh,” he groans out, tipping his head back like I’m the most exasperating person he’s ever had the displeasure to deal with as he extends his hand toward me. “Just pass me the flash drive already.”
“What flash drive?” I stare at his outstretched hand with a frown. Crap, did I miss something? Mentally, I go through all the assignments I’ve had, but apart from the newest one I received earlier this month, I’m certain I’ve turned it all in.
“With the program for Hart job.” He grits his teeth.
I blink at him. Is he serious right now? “You just gave me the assignment three weeks ago, I haven’t finished it yet.”
He takes a deep breath and clucks his tongue again. “You mean to tell me that I was generous enough to give you all this time to write a program that should’ve taken you no more than a week to do and yet you still have nothing to show me? What the fuck am I supposed to present at the meeting in an hour?” His voice raises with each word. “I swear I should’ve just done the program myself!”
