Page 3 of Don't Bite The Boss
‘Holy hell. A brother? And one who smells so fucking amazing! And why is he here? What did he mean about being a client?’
The phone rings and I press the speaker button, wincing as my thick-as-mud secretary’s squeaky voice pipes out over the intercom.
“Uh, Ms Jackson, Mr Berrington said to remind you, when you come to your senses, that you are supposed to be joining him on a flight to Italy in 12 hours.”
“What? Wait, Mr Berrington? Jesus, fuck, Juliet. Tell me Mr Berrington is not the Mr Bear I have been communicating with over the last few weeks.”
“Yeah, cute, huh.”
“Oh, for the love of…wait, so all those messages you have put on my desk, all the contract information, Mr Berrington is Mr Bear? You changed his name?”
“Yep,” I hear her gum pop, “it was kinda hard to spell, so…”
“Wait. The Mr Bear who has just signed a multi-million-dollar deal with us, hired us to landscape an Italian suburb and his new villa grounds?ThatMr Bear?”
“Yep.”
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!”
My head hits the desk with a thud.
“Is everything alright, Ms Jackson?” she asks, her ridiculously high-pitched voice squeaking even higher than usual across the intercom.
“Juliet,” I growl, “if I come out now, I’m going to murder you. Go fetch yourself some lunch, and don’t come back.”
“Ever?”
“No, Jesus, fuck!” I bang my head repeatedly on my desk, “come back tomorrow night – just get the hell out of here now.”
“Are you mad?”
“Juliet!” I scream.
“Going, going.”
I hear the phone ‘click’ as she hangs up and I continue banging my head on the desk; bonk, bonk, bonk.
‘He looks amazing, he smells divine, his blood is irresistible, and he’s my new boss.’
Note to self: Don’t bite the boss, don’t bite the boss, don’t bite the boss – well, try not to do it again, anyway.
2
I look out the window and chew my fingernail until it can be gnawed no lower without drawing blood. It will grow back in a few minutes, and I’ll start nibbling again.
It doesn’t sit well with me that Serena isn’t talking to me; we have rarely been on the outs in all the centuries we have been together, but I get it, it’s not every day your sister tries to kill your husband.
She’d refused to see me off this morning, even knowing I will likely be gone at least three months. Refused to answer my calls, despite having her precious Christopher return from Alaska in one piece, none the wiser to the chaos that had ensued while he was gone, either with Solomon or with his brother.
Charlotte says to give her time, that she will come around.
I hope she’s right. But I know Serena is angry with me on several levels. It isn’t just the fact I’d tried to bite someone I believed to be her mate; it’s the notion that I’d intended to turn him. We four had agreed, centuries ago, we would never turn anyone. I guess I’d broken two cardinal rules when I’d fanged my new boss; I’d tried to hurt someone Serena loved, and I’d tried to turn him. I think it may be a long time before she forgives me for this, and my heart aches at our rift.
‘I was trying to save his life, though,” I mutter as I stare at the tarmac.
“Talking to yourself?” my boss asks as he enters the jet, “first sign of madness, you know.”
I turn to him slowly, untucking my legs from where I had them crossed beneath me as I’d waited for him, broodingly contemplating the outside world through the darkly tinted windows of the Berrington jet.
