Page 101 of Rude Boss 2

He clears his throat and says, “You’re late,Ms. Bailey.”

I glance at Zahara. She frowns and snaps her head back, probably wondering why he still refers to me as Ms. Bailey. Or maybe she’s wondering why he’s stating the obvious to me. I’m his wife and I’m still being pressed. I’m just as confused as she is.

“Sorry, I was saving a file.”

“That’s no excuse. These meetings are at ten o’clock every week. When one person is late, it delays the entire team.”

I glance at my watch. It’s only five minutes after ten. There’s no reason for him to go postal right now. I say, “Well, I’m not really on the team anymore and I’m only a few minutes late.”

His eyes dig into me for an awkwardly long time before he says, “I want you to pack up your desk and leave. The rest of you can return to your desk.”

He walks out of the room like he’s too frustrated to continue.

My mouth falls open.

Greta says, “Did he just—?”

“He totally just fired you,” Mauve says.

“This is crazy,” Zahara says. “I told you to come with me, Tez.”

“Yo…that dude is off his rocker,” Jake says. “I think I’ma start looking for another job.”

“Yeah, right, Jake,” Zahara says. “You’ve been looking for another job for the last twelve months.”

“We have to do something about this,” Ian says. “This dictatorship must stop. I say we go on strike.”

“I’m with Glasses,” Mauve says unenthusiastically. “Let’s stick it to the man.”

“If you know like I know, you better stick your butt to that chair at your desk like Mr. DePaul told you to do. I got bills to pay. Ain’t nobody got time to be starting a revolution.”

“Yeah, guys,” I say. “Please don’t lose your job over me. I’m gonna go talk to him.”

“You shouldn’t,” Greta says. “I don’t think that’s a good idea at all, Quintessa. He’s in rare form.”

Zahara blurts out, “You got to be a cold-hearted individual to fire your own wife.”

I look at her. She covers her mouth with her hand after she realizes what she’s done. “Oops.”

My stomach bottoms out. I hate that the team found out like this, but given the circumstances, I don’t care.

“Wife?” Greta asks. “What did I miss?”

I sigh heavily and say, “Yes. We—Essex and I are married.”

“Well, I’ll be,” Greta says, gathering her things and heading out of the conference room.

Jake and Ian both look at me like I’ve committed treason.

Mauve says, “And here I was thinking you were the only sane one in the bunch. If you married that man, you’re either crazy or desperate.”

“Chill, Mauve,” Zahara says.

“This blows. I’m out.” Mauve collects her things and leave. Ian and Jake follow her.

Zahara says, “I’m so sorry, Quintessa. It slipped.”

“It’s all good. I shouldn’t have been a secret anyway, I guess.”

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