For some reason, my new boss has it out to get me. Innocent little me?
I'm just a petite, talented, darling little thorn in his side. Okay, my words, not his.
But he can't fire me unless I quit—long story.
The joke's on him, because I couldn't even quit chewing gum, let alone my dream job.
So I thought I had it handled.
I could survive the new boss, along with his icy dreamboat eyes and buns of steel (how he got a stick so far up a rear that tight remains a mystery).
I could even endure sharing an office with heartless Mr. Heartthrob.
Easy. Ish.
But then I drunkenly made the challenge that changed everything. I told him I could make an interview with an arrogant jerk like him sell.
His answer? Prove it.
If I fail, he gets what he wants and I quit. If I succeed, he backs off for good.