I HATE MY BOSS! #3
I lift my gaze and encounter a pair of steel eyes.
This is the first time I’ve seen them so close up.
I always thought they were gray like fog.
Now I notice that they have a shade of sea blue in them.
He has nice eyes, damn him. And for a guy, he has impressively long eyelashes.
That’s not fair, no man should have eyelashes longer than a woman!
I involuntarily look at his face and, horror of horrors, I’m ashamed to admit, but I like what I see.
Shapely, slightly raised eyebrows, neatly combed, dark hair sprinkled with the first gray hairs at the temples, slightly defined wrinkles at the corners of the eyes and on the forehead, a straight nose with a sharp ridge, a strong jaw, a barely noticeable trace of stubble, perfectly cut, narrow lips…
I stop my gaze on them. My heart is beating faster and faster, I’m getting hot, butterflies are fluttering in my stomach…
Fucking butterflies! Holy shit, it’s been ages since I felt them.
The last time they nested in my guts was when I was in the third year of high school, and Tom W.
(the object of my desire on a black racer) kissed me in the parking lot outside the school.
Holy shit. Maybe I have a stomach flu? Or the sun overheated me today, fried my brain and I’m hallucinating (not to put it bluntly—I’m off my head!)?
After all, he is Jan the Stiff! OK, he’s handsome, but that’s about it as far as his assets go.
The guy is on the south side of forty, he’ll probably start smelling like a memorial candle soon.
And that personality of his—the only person in the world who would be able to accept his stiff disposition is probably his birth mother.
Although, from the way he is and his distancing from people, one could make the assumption that she abandoned him as an infant at the baby hatch.
Well, okay, I exaggerate. I feel remorseful for thinking that.
Because what if it’s true? Maybe Jan is so cold because no one loved him when he was a baby?
He was raised by nuns in an orphanage… Kept at a distance, he never experienced maternal love and tenderness.
Maybe that’s why such coldness emanates from him?
By God! What am I battering my stupid head with?
I definitely got too carried away with my fantasy.
Besides, I don’t give a damn. Why am I even thinking about it?
He’s my boss. He probably has rich parents who paid for his education, and now he drives a Beemer worth big bucks and walks around in tailored suits.
ENOUGH!
“I don’t renovate,” I reply and step back a safe distance of two meters. “I do furniture restoration.”
Jan frowns, looks around the room and meets my latest work with his gaze. He freezes his gaze on it.
“Here?”
“What’s the problem with ‘here’?”
“Do you do furniture restoration in your apartment?” He looks at me, and I see curiosity in his eyes.
“Yes. I can’t afford to rent a studio. But it’s just a matter of time.”
Until I make enough money and get the fuck out of work, as far away from you as possible , I add in my mind, smiling under my breath with satisfaction.
“Do you have any more questions or are you going to use the computer? I want to change.”
Jan looks at me for a moment, then shifts his gaze to the chair and… his face loses all its color.
What is it again?
I follow his gaze and burst out with laughter. For heaven’s sake, it’s just a little dust. I walk over to the chair and start hitting the seat upholstery with my hand.
A cloud of dust rises. Jan’s face—priceless. The poor man is about to go down with a heart attack.
“It’s from sanding,” I explain, holding back a laugh. “It gets a little dusty when I chisel the wood.” You, by the way, would also benefit from such processing, wooden boy. “Well, it’s ready. You can sit down.” I point to the chair and smile kindly.
Jan looks at the seat with eyes that say, “Thank you, I’ll stand,” so I motivate him to sit down with dogged hospitality:
“I understand that you were somewhat disappointed by my housing conditions, and they don’t compare to yours. All the more reason for me to encourage you to be more generous in allocating a discretionary bonus, which will significantly raise my standard of living.”
His gaze pierces my guts. He doesn’t say anything. Not a thing. Not for a solid twenty seconds! He just stands and stares at me. Apparently, instead of Twister-type movement games, he prefers more static ones in the style of ‘who blinks first’. God, his eyes are about to burn a hole in my forehead.
“Have you heard that looking into someone’s eyes for more than ten minutes can trigger hallucinations?”
His response is only a grunt. Jan looks away from me (I won!), then sits down stiffly on the chair and adjusts the laptop monitor to the right angle.
Great. Then work bravely, dear Jan, while I get ready for this afternoon.
“I’ll be back in ten minutes,” I say and walk into the bedroom.
As I announced, ten minutes later I’m spruced up and ready. I walk out of the small room with a bag stuffed to the brim on my shoulder, dressed in a bikini and shorts. I pull back my hair into a comfortable ponytail.
“Are you done?” I ask, seeing that Jan is still sitting in front of the computer.
He lifts his gaze from above the monitor. His eyes widen. He moves his gaze slowly across me… Up. Down. Up again. He stops at my chest, opens his mouth and snaps it closed.
Hahahaha. And there I have you. At a loss for words, huh?
“What are you wearing?” His voice is strangely stifled.
“A Kashubian folk costume. Beautiful, isn’t it?” I’m spinning around.
“This is not a Kashubian folk costume.”
Holy Moley.
“You are insanely perceptive.”
“Maria,” he stammers my name warningly.
“Jan,” I reply, trying to mimic his tone, but I don’t think I’m doing a very good job of it, because Engler is totally blowing it off.
“You were supposed to dress up for the banquet. In an evening gown. And this is not an evening gown.”
“That’s right, it’s not an evening gown.
You have sharp eyesight. However, I’m worried about your hearing, I clearly told you earlier that I was going to change.
I didn’t mention anything about an evening gown.
” I cross my arms, which is probably not a good move because Jan’s gaze slides to my breasts again.
He swallows in a way that makes his Adam’s apple pop out.
He looks at my cleavage intensely, even lustfully.
My nipples begin to tingle. My breathing speeds up. I feel a pulsing in my abdomen.
Jesus Mary and Joseph, am I just getting aroused about my boss staring at my boobs!
Stop. Stop. Stop! Right now!
I immediately rest my hands on my hips.
“Can you hear me well?” My pronunciation is loud and exaggerated, as if I were checking the function of a hearing aid on an eighty-year-old.
Jan immediately lifts his eyes. He catches my gaze.
Well, this is definitely better. Or is it not? I involuntarily suck in the air. Jan’s eyes are piercing and insatiable. God, why is he looking at me like that?
“I can hear you,” he replies in a low, hoarse voice that makes my skin get goosebumps.
Oh no, no. Maria, stop shivering. Cover your shoulders, step into the heated oven and set yourself on fire. Do anything, just don’t freak out. This is Jan Engler, after all. Pinocchio had more verve in him than he did. How many more times do you need to be told?
Just take it easy. I’m wrapping it up. It’s nothing like that. I’ll fix it right away.
I stare at Jan and he stares at me. I try with all my might to start up a combative attitude.
To change my point of view. There is no devilishly handsome guy here, there is no man sitting here looking at me so indecently that it makes my panties wet.
The appearance of this male specimen is only a pretense, a camouflage, a sham, a mask.
Underneath this facade there is a man whom I sincerely dislike, who makes me stay after hours, who is judgmental and treats me as if I were just a nobody, who orders me to work on the weekend. On the weekend!
“Mr. Engler,” I start in a polite tone and adjust the bag on my shoulder. “I made it clear to you that I have today off. And I already have other plans. I’m going to the pond in the park. If you haven’t noticed, it’s beautiful weather, the weekend, and I intend to take full advantage of it.”
Jan’s eyes narrow a bit, causing wrinkles to appear at their corners.
“And I said that this is an exceptional situation and you have to work today. In return, you will get a day off.”
“And I want to get it today. I’m not going.”
“Are you pregnant?”
What’s this, is he crazy! Let him spit out the word!
“No.” I answer without thinking. And only after a while do I realize that, after all, Jan has no right to ask me such things. And I don’t have to answer him. But oh, well. It happened, emotions took over. But where did such a question even come from?
“Are you raising a child under the age of four?”
Aha. I already know where he’s going with this. Asshole.
“You know very well that I don’t.”
“So I would like to remind you that according to the Labor Code, if you do not carry out my business trip order, I have every right to fire you.”
Dickhead.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m taking a leave of absence on demand.”
Jan squints his eyes.
“I am not granting your request.”
God, I’m about to murder him.
“You can’t do that!” I raise my voice.
“I can. It’s an important banquet.”