I spend the next half hour fielding their questions, talking about my experience, thinking more and more about my potential boss and his rancid attitude. His absence almost makes it worse. I’d rather dance with rabid wolves.
But I survive the final battery of questions, and I’d like to think I impressed them. At the end, they fall silent.
I guess it’s over. Time to go home.
As I’m dreaming of tasting the freedom that’s outside the door and wondering if any new jobs have been posted online today, a male voice growls over my shoulder.
“The new wedding line is crucial. You’ll be reporting directly to me even while you’re technically working under Miss Patel. A little spine goes a long way, and yours is made of diamond. Don’t make me regret this.”
Regret it? Regret what? Did I get the job?
What the actual hell?
The idea of working for this guy feels terrifying.
I’m too stunned to even muster a thanks.
But he stares at me, expectant. Like I’m supposed to fall down and hug his leg. Genuflect. Kiss his ring. Kiss his—whatever.
“I’m hired then?” I ask softly. I need to hear it from the horse’s mouth.
Those bottomless honey-brown eyes drop from my face to my lips.
Just like the day he tried to bribe my cinnamon roll away. And just like that first ugly morning, that gaze on my lips makes me tingle.
No, no, no, and no.
He’s a professional ass in a tie and apparently my new boss.
He shrugs. “No point in wasting more time pretending it’s not a done deal. Are there any last-minute objections?”
He waits while heads shake around the room. I’m glued to my seat in awe at how utterly ballsy and open he is.
“Good. We’ll have your background check by the end of the day. Barring any surprises, you can start ASAP. Always remember you can leave just as easily as you came, so don’t get cocky,” he says.
“Well, okay. We just need to hammer out the details,” Ida says.
“Why don’t you get the paperwork? We can take care of it right now,” Burns tells her.
“Stop by when you’re done and I’ll introduce you to the team,” Anna says cheerfully.
“That’s great. Thank you,” I say numbly, my mind whirling with a tornado of thoughts.
Do I really want this? Can I afford to be picky? I know it pays well and the benefits are bomb. Can I afford to flip him off and leave?
The women are nice. Maybe I can just deal.
The ladies leave the conference room one by one, filing out and leaving me alone with Prince Douchenozzle.
“Congratulations,” he grinds out reluctantly.
“Thanks...I think?”
The glare he levels could vaporize me several times over.
Yeah. If I want this position, I’m definitely going to have my work cut out for me, and it’s got nothing to do with the actual work.
Ida comes strolling back in with her laptop a minute later. “We still call it paperwork, but it’s mostly digital.”
“What do you make at your current job?” she asks.
“Thirty-five thousand a year.”
“Wait.” Burns throws up a hand, making an exasperated sound. “You make thirty-five thousand dollars a year and you turned down five hundred dollars for a damn roll? And you called me insane?”
Ignore him.
Easier said than done.
Ida scowls at him over her laptop.
“Start her at ninety even with immediate performance incentives, plus the full match in her 401k,” he says.
Ninety thousand and then some?
To write?
Is this seriously happening?
“Oh-kay.” Ida draws the word out so much it’s almost two. “When can you start, Dakota?”
“Soon. I need to give two weeks’ notice and tie up any loose ends before I—”
“She’ll start Monday,” Burns tells her point-blank.
My toes curl up in my shoes.
“But I...I need to give two weeks’ notice.”
“Why’s that, Miss Poe? It’s not like they’re paying you,” he snaps.
Woof. He’s so rude.
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” I say with a sniff.
He waves his hand dismissively.
“So is paying your employees. Your choice, I suppose. You can start Monday with a job that pays more than double your current salary, or you can hang out at your discount agency and keep nibbling at crumbs. I need someone ready to dive in now.”
Well, thanks, Mr. Hardass.
He says it in a way that tells me he’s not used to having people argue back, much less delay his beck and call.
“Fine. Can I get the offer in writing?” I ask through clenched teeth.
He nods, never taking his eyes off me.
“Have her sign off on it and send it over for my signature.” He turns and starts moving across the room, but stops with a hard glance over his shoulder. “Free tip: the next time you’re in a job negotiation, don’t tell anyone your current salary. It’s none of their business. They’ll pay what you’re worth and nothing else.”
Amazing. I never knew it was possible to hate a total stranger this much.