Mister McHottie by Pippa Grant

Author:Pippa Grant [Grant, Pippa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781940517254
Published: 2017-10-29T16:00:00+00:00

14

Chase

Bro doesn’t text me back. She doesn’t drop by my place, doesn’t bang on the door to wake me up at some ungodly hour in the middle of the night—bang, that’d be funny except I didn’t get any last night—and she hasn’t booby-trapped my office with glitter bombs or rotting fish or lingerie that smells like her pussy.

It’s like I don’t exist to her.

She’s so fucking good at fucking with my mind.

I spend the next morning interviewing candidates for the executive board. I’m going to have to go outside the company for some positions, but there’s a lot of talent internally, and as I explain to each of my prospective board members my long-range goals for Crunchy, I’m also getting re-invigorated. When I’m done, there won’t be any more canned baloney. No more chemicals hiding in our food and manufacturing processes to make people sick—those canning it or those eating it. Or those doing both. No more kids going hungry in schools either.

What good is being among the world’s richest men if you can’t solve a food supply problem?

And before you start throwing shit—I’m not putting people or industries out of work, either.

I’m going to buy them and fix them.

All of them.

Because I fucking can.

I’m in the middle of interviewing Tina, the world’s perkiest woman, for a position in sales management when I hear a commotion break out in the lobby. My door flings open. “Gentlemen, you can’t just go in there,” my admin assistant says as thirteen-plus feet and seven hundred pounds of Viking hockey players get stuck battling each other to get through my door first.

“They’re harmless,” I tell Tina.

I hope I’m not lying.

“Oh my god, it’s the Brute and the Force,” she whispers reverently.

Zeus wins the battle of the doorway and strolls in first. He whips out a Sharpie, signs Tina’s head, and then scrawls his name across my desk before doing a mic-drop with the marker. “We need to talk.”

Ares adds his signature to Tina’s left arm and eyeballs the front of my desk in a way that makes me think he’s using X-ray vision to locate my crotch.

To sign it or turn it into ground meatballs is anybody’s guess.

“Thanks for your time,” I say to Tina. “I’ll be in touch.”

“If we had a sex room, I’d so be using it right now,” she whispers reverently as she stumbles to her feet. “Can I get a picture before I go?”

I take her phone and snap a picture of Zeus and Ares holding her mermaid-style, then a normal one with her dwarfed between the two men. If they have time for pictures, they’re probably not here to chop my legs off.

When the door shuts, Ares sits in the leather chair Tina’s just vacated. It creaks, there’s a snap and a plume of glitter, and suddenly he’s in a crumbled pile of old leather, springs, and wood that’s seen better days.

Like yesterday, before a behemoth squashed it with his ass and released one last hidden glitter bomb.

“Dude,” Zeus says.

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