by Rosie Praks
“Yes, Miss Madigan,” he answered anyway, eyeing her with pure hatred. And when she walked farther into his office, he could only scream out his objection in his mind.
You evil witch! If we were in the eighteenth century, I’d burn you on a stake already. Blast you to hell, you evil—
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t attend the meeting.” Darcy ran right in front of her, blocking her passage, as she was about to go to his desk. “If… if only Peter hadn’t taPreston leave so suddenly, I would have been able to.”
“Mmm,” was all she uttered, then looked up as if searching for something, until finally her eyes landed on his desk.
Darcy cringed. All the important documents were scattered about on the table, probably a result of being pushed around by his big head during sleep.
He moved a lot when he slept; that was what his mother had always told him.
“If you move around like this, who’s going to sleep with you?” she would often say. “And how are you going to produce any children if no one wants to sleep with you?”
Yeah right, like I have time to think about that right now. Once again, he’d hit a sexual dry spell, not because there was no woman around. It was because of this witch. Stress, frustration, and tiredness. She bestowed all three gifts upon him, wrapped in a sarcastic bow of instructions.
“Is that all you need?” he asked, hoping she would get the hint and leave him in peace before his heart did another stressful spin around the racetrack.
“No, Darcy. Follow me. I need to talk to you.”
Shit, now I’m in trouble for sure.
Darcy followed her into her office, which was adjacent to his own, except his was like a little storeroom compared to her gigantic immaculate suite.
The witch went to sit on her throne, then turned to face him coldly, gesturing for him to step forward until he stood right in front of her desk.
Darcy did as he was told without even thinking.
“Your tie is wrinkled. Did you iron it this morning?” she asked coldly, her voice as frozen as dry ice, her usual tone with him.
“I did.” He subconsciously went to smooth his tie.
“Then why is it wrinkled?” she asked sharply, her eyes boring into his own.
Darcy knew he was in serious trouble. He’d been working for the witch for a full six months now, and he knew when she started using this tone, he was in deep shit.
Dear God, why does she have to be this cold? And scary?
Darcy eyed his boss. There she sat on her throne, her hands one on top of the other, staring at him like she was about to cast an evil spell upon him. Her black hair, which she usually tied up in a bun, was just like that again today. She was so pale, as if she were lacking in iron or something.
God, she’s ugly, he couldn’t help thinking. Those coke-bottle lenses were like magnify glasses that made her eyes look like a goldfish’s underwater, like they were about to burst off her skull. And she had her usual black suit on again today, a two-piece that reached just past her knees.
What woman these days wears that length skirt anyway? Not that he was an expert in skirts, but he dated so many women in the past to know what was in fashion and what was not. The witch looked like she was out of fashion by decades.
How could they make her the editor-in-chief of E Magazine when she dresses like that?
“Dar-cy,” she said again, her pronunciation of his name grating in his ears. He knew she must have done it on purpose. He hated the way she pronounced his name. It was like she was his mother, reprimanding him for doing something wrong. “Were you listening to me?” she asked again, breaking into his line of thoughts.
“Yes. I’m listening.” His voice shook a bit. Why must I feel like this? Stand up, Darcy. Be a man. Shouldn’t a man dominate the work place, like in the bedroom?
“Why is it wrinkled?” she asked again.
“I…” Bugger! What was he supposed to tell the witch? That he was sleeping on the job because he was so damn tired because of the amount of work she unloaded on him. Because, shit, Peter decided to take a week off, leaving him to do all his work.
Shit! The amount of work she pressed him to finish was, yes, a little overboard, but it was also his own damn fault for succumbing to the pressure of his friend Hunter.
Last night, Hunter had called to announce that his partner had accepted his marriage proposal. So what did two highly intelligent men do? They went drinking—until they were flat-out drunk. And it was only Wednesday, for crying out loud. By the time he got home, he was pooping with his eyes closed.
“I…?” The witch probed, her eyes questioning, waiting for him to elaborate. Or maybe to drop dead on the spot due to stress. If that happened, he’d sue her for inducing stress on her staff.
“I was… was…” His eyes scanned the floor, looking for a way out of his early grave. And then they miraculously landed on a piece of paper lying underneath her desk. Not knowing what excuse to give her, he immediately said the first thing that came into his mind. “I was busy looking for some documents on the floor, so I must have accidentally wrinkled it then. There’s still a piece left under the desk. I’ll just grab it.”
He crawled underneath the table and picked up the document that lay near her feet. God, now I feel so low, but please let the witch believe my lie.
“You came into my office without my permission to organize my things?” she asked with a cruel sting.
“Y-yes.” He got back up. What the hell have I done? What kind of excuse was that? Why did I come up with such a lame excuse?
Darcy knew the witch hated anyone invading her private space. She’d told him countless times. So why did he think of saying such a thing?
“Darcy, I have…”
And here she goes with the warning.
“I don’t appreciate anyone coming into my room when I’m not present. If this happens again—”
Blab, blab, blab... Darcy blocked out her voice and thought instead of his latest date that he’d scored while out drinking with Hunter late last night. I wonder if Isabella wants to go straight to third base tonight.
“Did you pick everything up?”
“Huh?” Has she finished with the warning already?
“Darcy, were you even listening to me?”
“Yes, I’m listening.” Darcy straightened himself and cracked his neck. He should never sleep in that sloughy position since it would always be his neck that suffered.
“Good. Now that I’ve made myself clear, we can get back to work.”
Phew! Darcy heaved a sigh of relief, happy that he wasn’t punished. He feigned a smile and turned to leave when—
“Now take off your tie.”
What? Darcy stopped in his tracks and twisted on his heel to face the witch.
You have got to be kidding me. You nasty witch, you want me to strip off my tie? Not a chance. And it’s definitely not part of office policy to strip for your boss. I won’t—
“Take off your tie, Darcy,” she stated again, glaring deathly venom at him.
“W-why?” he stuttered, fear creeping into him.
What’s gotten into her? Wait! That must be it. She’s a cougar, preying on young, handsome men like me. And since I’m so irresistible, she wants a piece of me like all the other women back in university. Yes, that’s it. The cougar.
“Because it’s wrinkled,” she said simply, shoving his hypothesis out the window. “I can’t have you parading around the workplace wearing a wrinkled tie, now can I?”
And you can parade around in that ugly dress? Not that he could say that out loud.
The witch stood from her chair and walked toward a set of drawers situated at the back of the office. Then stopping in front of them, she pulled something out from the top drawer. All Darcy could do was stare at her back. She then turned and walked toward him with a red polka dot tie in her hand.
She keeps ties in her office. Shit! So I’m not her only victim, then. She must be preying on other men, too. So
the rumors are true after all.
At first, when Darcy started working here, there were numerous rumors about his boss being a cougar, preying on young men in her previous workplace because she was so old she couldn’t find herself a boyfriend.
He supposed no one in his right mind would want to be her boyfriend anyway. Tyrant. Strict. Cold. Vicious. You name it—all the traits a girl shouldn’t have, she possessed. In other words, she turned men off.
“Darcy, take off the tie.” She cocked her head to one side when he refused to budge.
“Yes, yes, of course.” There he went again. He just couldn’t stand up for himself, could he? What a loser.
Grabbing the knot of his tie, Darcy loosened it. Once removed, he scrunched it up and shoved it in his pocket.
The witch stood right in front of him, her head only reaching his chin. Despite the height difference, Darcy still felt intimidated by this woman.
Without touching him, the witch glared up at him, her eyes frosty. “Wear this,” she ordered, then dropped the tie into his open palm.
Darcy stood speechless, looking at the polka dot tie in his hand. He’d bet on his next paycheck that if he were to walk out of this office wearing that tie, he would surely be the laughing stock of the whole company.
The witch stood in the same position, right in front of him, as if waiting for him to do something with the tie. He just blinked.
“Darcy?”
“Yes, Miss Madigan.”
“Wear the tie.”
“Oh, like right now?”
“Yes.”
“Can I wait until I reach my office?”
“No.”
The evil witch. Torturing me every day with the workload isn’t enough. Now I must be the laughing stock of the whole company, too. I hate you.
Darcy wanted to lash out at her, but instead, he found himself tying the tie around his neck, like an obedient little boy or a total submissive.
“All done,” he even exclaimed once he finished.
The witch had the decency to step back and inspect his goddamn work.
“Good.” She nodded, smiling slyly, then turned and perched herself back on her throne, typing furiously on her laptop, her long fingernails like cat claws drumming on the keyboard. “You can leave now, Darcy,” she instructed, her eyes were still glued to the screen. “And be a good boy and close the door on your way.”
Bang on my ego. The witch sure knows how to use the minimum words for a maximum effect to traumatize me.
Darcy wanted to spout a comeback, a retort, anything to show she couldn’t bully him, but all that came out of his mouth was, “Yes, Miss Madigan,” before he gnashed his teeth together and closed the door quietly behind him.
Chapter 2
“That’s it. I’m quitting.” Darcy fumed as he got to his seat, his hand gripping his tie, loosening it, then throwing it across the desk to land on the threshold.
He could imagine the headline news of their next issue of the employee newsletter already.
Want to have fun? Then look no farther than our very own Darcy the clown, complete with red polka dot tie to make your day.
Darcy was sure he was the official clown of the whole company now. All because of that witch and his walk of shame. Everyone stared at him like he had three heads. He bet on a rat’s ass that Carina, the company gossip, would be blogging about his red polka dot tie for weeks. Even worse, Tony, the tech guy who hardly had anything better to do than go around filming anything that moved, had decided at that moment to film him on his iPhone, too. The gall when he’d even promised by tomorrow morning, Darcy would be a celebrity. All thanks to YouTube.
Celebrity, my ass, Darcy fumed. More like the joke of the whole company.
“Knock-knock,” a voice said at the door.
Darcy shifted his focus to the door, but before he could say enter, a woman, round as a muffin, stepped over the threshold and perched her bottom on his desk.
It was Macy, his friend who’d sent him the text message about the witch heading his way.
“What’s wrong, Darcy darling? Did the witch bite your head off again?” she asked.
“Worse than that. She asked me to wear this bloody tie.” Darcy gestured to the tie on the desk, which he’d now removed from his neck. That tie was like a snake winding around his neck, suffocating him. No, it was more like that witch’s long claws. No, it was like a chain collar, strangling him. Oh shit! I’m a total submissive to this woman. Oh shit! My headache’s coming on again.
“That red polka dot tie? Ha! Ha-ha-ha.” Macy laughed maniacally.
“Oh, just shut up, Macy,” he growled.
“Did Tony get to you in the tie?” Macy enquired, as if the subject were the most interesting thing to talk about.
“Check YouTube tonight if you must know,” he replied glumly, resting his forehead on his desk, wanting to bang his head on that hard surface so everything could be over and done with. His headache, his job, his godforsaPreston everything. He was so sick of this shit.
“Ah, great one, Tony. Got to give it to him to ruffle your feathers like that.” Macy disheveled his hair playfully, which just pissed the hell out of him even further.
“Please, Macy, just stop. You’re giving me a splitting headache.” Darcy jerked his head from the desk and sank back into his chair, feeling suddenly exhausted. He ran his fingers through his already tousled hair, feeling how untamed it had become. God, he needed to apply more gel. He was losing his style. And that’s the one thing he couldn’t lose.
“Oh, Darcy darling, my little cute, adorable ducky. That’s no headache you got there. I bet on your next paycheck it’s a hangover.” Macy pinched his cheek until it turned red.
He swatted away her hand. “Whatever. It’s the same thing. Now get out. I want to work.”
But Macy had a tendency to ignore his requests. And this time was no different. She asked, “So what were you doing while the witch had her meeting with Clarice Mason, my periodontist?”
Well, at least she changed the subject. Thank God. She must have known he was an inch shy of exploding if she continued on that topic.
“I was working,” he said, knowing full well he was lying.
“Really, darling?” Macy asked with skepticism.
Macy was using that tone of voice again. And he didn’t like it one bit. It always made him feel guilty. But not this time.
“Yes,” he nipped back just as quickly.
Or maybe it was too quickly. Does she know I lied?
“Are you sure?”
I knew it!
“Yes. Why do you keep asking? You’re so annoying. You know that? I wonder what Brian saw in you to marry you.”
“Oh, zip that mouth of yours, Darcy. You’re just jealous because your best friend has finally found her soul mate and you’re still dangling around that dating tree, jumping like a monkey from branch to branch to find the right girl to meet your family.”
Darcy smirked and shook his head. To tell her the truth, he wasn’t jealous, nor did he care about getting married. His parents had always asked him to bring along his girlfriends, but none would fit his criteria as the perfect girl. Plus, he liked his freedom too much.
“Okay, I’m jealous. Happy now? Now get a move on.” He made up another lie just to shut her up. That woman just didn’t know when to shut the lid on her kettle.
“Darcy darling, you were sleeping while the witch was at the meeting, right?”
What the hell? That was random.
“Why do you say that?” He eyed her suspiciously.
“Because you have a drool stain near your mouth.”
“What? Ahh!” Darcy tried to remove the drool from the corner of his mouth as Macy burst out laughing like a lunatic.
“I was only joking. Oh God, that was hilarious.” Macy laughed, holding on to her stomach until she fell over backward on his desk.
“Ha-ha. Funny, funny. And you deserve that fall. Now be a good friend and shut up. I’m not in the m
ood to laugh with you.” He snapped at her.
“Oh, stop now, Darcy darling. You have to learn to control that mouth of yours. Why don’t you ever swear in front of the witch?”
Again, another question out of the blue.
“I don’t know. Dammit, I just want to quit,” he said, rubbing his face, having had enough of this shit. Seriously, if it weren’t for his student loans, he would’ve been out of this place yesterday. He didn’t need some nasty old woman telling him what’s left from right.
“Then quit,” Macy stated.
Except he couldn’t quit. Not yet anyway.
“I have to pay back my student loans. That took a chunk of my living expenses already. God knows I hardly spend anything on myself.”
“Not yourself maybe, but your many girlfriends.” Macy kindly offered her opinion, which he didn’t want.
Then again, Macy wasn’t wrong on that one. Any money he had, he would spend it on his latest girlfriends. He supposed that was his price to pay if he wanted to get into their beds.
“They’re not my girlfriends.” He defended himself anyway. He didn’t want to feel inferior to all these women in the company. That witch had already made him feel three inches tall. There was no way he was going to let Macy bruise his ego even further. “I have a sex life, Macy. An enjoyable one, too. Therefore, I have no reason to have a love life. And I’d like it to stay that way.”
“So you’ll just continue to sleep with them until you’re old and wrinkly, with no woman to call wife?” Macy asked.
“Yep. I’m happy being a bachelor. Plus, all those girls are beneficial to my health.”
“You mean your sexual health?” Macy raised her eyebrow as if she didn’t believe his declaration.
“Yes. Little Jonathan is happy. Those women help relieve our stress and frustration, mostly created by that witch.”
“Darcy, you know what I think?” Macy said, completely ignoring his comments. “I think you have the hots for the witch. That’s why you’re so stressed and frustrated. You can’t seem to hold her attention for more than a minute without her telling you off in that motherly tone of hers. That’s why you go and seek attention from other women. Am I right?”