Assisting the Bosshole Read online

  Assisting the Bosshole

  The Bosshole Files Book One

  Kristin MacQueen

  Published by Kristin MacQueen, 2020.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Assisting the Bosshole (The Bosshole Files Book One)

  Playlist

  1

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  Want a bonus chapter?

  What’s next for the Bossholes?

  Interview with the Bossholes

  Author's Note

  Stay connected with me!

  Also by Kristin MacQueen

  Assisting the Bosshole – The Bosshole Files Book One

  First edition. March 15, 2020.

  Copyright ©2020 Kristin MacQueen.

  Written by Kristin MacQueen.

  Cover designed by Suite Six Studios.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by and electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  If you received a copy of this book from anywhere but Amazon, understand that it was posted without permission and is a pirated copy. Pirating is stealing. It absolutely hurts every author affected.

  Playlist

  Different Eyes - Marco Tamimi

  Call You Mine - The Chainsmokers, Bebe Rexha

  Craving You – Thomas Rhett

  Last Habit – Matt Stell

  Hard To Love – Lee Brice

  Make Him Wait – Abby Anderson

  Most Girls – Hailee Steinfeld

  I Do – Astrid S, Brett Young

  Warrior – Beth Crowley

  Anything She Says – Mitchell Tenpenny, Seaforth

  Her – Cole Swindell

  Wanted- Hunter Hayes

  One Thing Right – Marshmello, Kane Brown

  1

  Parker

  STARING ACROSS THE board room table, I exchange glances with my two best friends, Lucas and Owen. They roll their eyes as Mr. Anderson drones on and on about what we should be doing with the company. He’s one of the older employees here. He isn't happy to have three younglings, as he calls us, come in and take over things. My dad, along with Lucas’ and Owen’s, formed this investment company when they were fresh out of college, now that they want to retire and enjoy their money, they’ve passed the reins over to us.

  “You really should be taking the advice of more seasoned individuals. You’re so young, you don’t know how things should be run in this company.”

  I let out a loud sigh. Every single meeting is the same, Mr. Anderson criticizes us because of our age and aggressive business strategies. They know nothing about us or our knowledge of investing.

  “If you’re done, Mr. Anderson, I’d love to address my employees. Mr. Coleman, Mr. Powell and I know what we’re doing. We don’t need your approval to make decisions around here. Contrary to what you believe, we’ve been learning how to run this company since before we graduated high school. Our fathers are still on the board and have a say in every major decision, but they’ve yet to disagree with what we propose to them.”

  Owen and Lucas push their chairs away from the table, taking their places on either side of me. We always present a united front, always.

  “Mr. Anderson, if you feel we aren’t able to run this company to your liking you’re free to leave and find a new job.” Lucas gestures to the door.

  “Don’t expect a letter of recommendation though, I wouldn’t want my name attached to someone who likes to undermine their bosses in front of their employees,” Owen adds, crossing his arms over his chest.

  The three of us make an interesting team. Owen’s blunt, in your face and built like an ox. You’d expect to find him on a football field, not in a board room. Lucas is our voice of reason; he remains calm in every situation and has a massive heart. I’m the asshole. I don’t take shit from anyone, I'm cold and ruthless. I’ll stop at nothing to get what I want.

  “Mr. Powell, you know that’s not what I'm doing. I’d never undermine you or question your decisions.”

  “Then what exactly are you doing? Because I'm done with you wasting my time.” I stare him down, enjoying when he squirms in his chair.

  “I'm... I'm just saying there’s other ways.”

  “Do you think your ways are better than the men who sign your paychecks?” Owen raises a brow.

  “Of course not!”

  “Mr. Anderson, I think it’s time for you to go back to your office before you upset us anymore, we wouldn’t want to make any decisions we might regret. Please refrain from coming to any future meetings until you learn to keep your bitterness over us running the company to yourself.” Lucas stays calm.

  “Mr. Coleman, please-”

  “Mr. Coleman asked you to leave. If you can't do it yourself, I'm sure Mr. Powell would be all too happy to help you.”

  I’ve never witnessed someone move so fast in my entire life. He shoves all of his papers into his briefcase and is out the door in less than thirty seconds. Not bad for a short, overweight, sixty-year-old man. I'm almost impressed.

  “Now, does anyone else have an issue with how we run this company or may we continue with this meeting and make this company some money?”

  A round of No, Sir’s is heard throughout the room. Lucas leads the rest of the meeting, knowing Owen and I have short tempers and won't put up with much else from our employees.

  “Is there anything else anyone needs to share with us?” Lucas asks when he’s finished.

  “Mr. Scott?” An older curvy blonde woman from human resources raises her hand.

  “Yes.”

  “Your new assistant is starting today. Their name is...” She shuffles through several papers before she continues. “Logan Johnson.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Please be nice to them, this is the fourth assistant you’ve had in three months.”

  “Are you saying that’s my fault?” I raise a brow, hoping to intimidate her.

  “Mr. Scott, I’ve known you since you were in diapers, you can't scare me. Yes, it’s your fault. The last two came to me in tears within two hours of meeting you. It’s hard enough to find someone qualified to work for you, can't you make an old lady’s job easy and don’t make the good ones leave?”

  “I’ll try my hardest, but I won't make any promises.” I throw
her a wink.

  The boys follow me back to my office, shutting the door behind us. We don’t need our employees overhearing our conversations.

  “Can we just fire the prick?” Owen asks, dropping into a chair like a child. He picks up the football on the edge of my desk, throwing it up in the air. I keep it there just for him.

  “I second firing him.” I hold a hand up, plopping down in my leather high back chair behind my desk.

  “We can't fire the asshole.”

  “Why not, Luke? He acts like we’re stupid.” Owen pouts.

  “Because if we fire him, the rest of our employees will think we’ll fire anyone who challenges us. We want them to challenge us when we’re wrong and voice their opinions.”

  “No, we don’t.” Owen and I blurt out at the same time, our brows furrowed together.

  Lucas throws his head back laughing, it takes him a few moments to control his laughter enough to continue our conversation. He might be a hard ass in the business world but when it’s the three of us, he’s the lighthearted jokester.

  “Ok, ok. We don’t want them to challenge us or voice their opinions but we do need them to feel like we care about their thoughts and opinions. If they believe we’re as cold hearted as you assholes act, no one will want to work for us. People want to believe their bosses care even if they don’t.”

  “Can we offer him a retirement package nice enough he’ll want to leave?” I smirk.

  “No, Parker. They’ll see through that in a second. Everyone knows the two of you want the prick gone. We have to either let him quit himself or wait until he retires. He’s like sixty-five, he can't last too much longer.”

  “Thank fuck. If I have to watch him chew with his mouth open in the lunch room one more time, I'm gonna punch someone.”

  “You don’t even eat in there, none of us do.” I chuckle to myself.

  “Yeah, well, sometimes Tina makes cookies and puts them in there. I threatened to fire her if she doesn’t deliver them to my desk herself, but she just laughed and told me I knew where the lunch room was.”

  “Did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Know where the lunch room was?”

  “Fuck no! I asked three different assholes and they all thought I was joking, walked away chuckling. I had to ask the cleaning guy.”

  “Jerry.” Lucas nods his head.

  “What?” Owen and I ask in unison.

  “Jerry... he’s the cleaning guy.” We stare at Lucas, blinking in surprise. “What? Do you not know your employees? Jerry’s been working here for like twenty years.”

  “I don’t need to know their names; they just need to know their jobs and do it.”

  “What he said.” Owen throws a thumb my way.

  “And you two wonder why no one will approach you.” He rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

  “We’re totally fucking approachable,” I protest.

  “We’re like giant teddy bears,” Owen adds.

  “You two are as approachable as a hungry lion during feeding time and you know it. You catch more bees with honey than vinegar.”

  “You catch more bees if you steal the damn hive,” Owen grumbles under his breath. I try to hide my laughter; Lucas gets upset when we don’t take him seriously. My body shakes with effort, Owen notices and starts chuckling right along with me. Lucas scowls but when we laugh even harder, he joins in with us. Soon we’re all holding our stomachs, tears forming in our eyes.

  “Mr. Scott?” The intercom chirps.

  I take a deep breath and let it out before pressing the button to respond.

  “Yes.”

  “Logan Johnson is here.”

  “Who the hell is that?”

  “Mr. Scott...” I can hear the eyeroll and loud sigh. “First off, I told you Logan is your new assistant and second, you’re on the intercom, people can hear you, please try to be pleasant.”

  “Oh, Ms. Sampson, if I was pleasant it would ruin my reputation and make people think I'm nice. I don’t want either of those things to happen.”

  “When you, Mr. Powell and Mr. Coleman are done, please instruct Logan on what you need done.”

  “Is this one gonna cry?”

  “If you could be nice, none of them would cry. Why can't you be more like Mr. Coleman?”

  “This company would crumble if I was more like Lucas. I can be a bit more like Owen if you’d like.”

  “Oh please, no. I don’t need another of Mr. Powell.” Owen leans over my desk and presses the button himself, a scowl firmly on his face.

  “Doris! What the fuck did I do?”

  “I’ve had five complaints this week about your language and less than desirable attitude.”

  “Oh, sweetness, my language is colorful but nothing to cry about. My attitude would be fantastic if people did their fucking jobs correctly the first time, but not all our employees can be like you, Doris.”

  “Flattery will get you everything, Mr. Powell. Also, stop calling all the women pet names, people are complaining.”

  “What if I start calling the men pet names too? Then no one will be left out and they can't complain.”

  “Mr. Powell...” Doris lets out a long sigh. “Please don’t call any of your employees pet names, especially the men.”

  “Got it! So just the ladies! Thank for clearing that up, sugar.”

  “Mr. Scott, Logan will be at the assistant’s desk waiting for you. Please don’t be long.”

  2

  Logan

  TODAY CAN'T GET ANY worse than it already has been. When I woke up there was no hot water, I had to take an ice-cold shower. When I ran down the street so I wouldn’t miss the train, my heel got stuck in a grate and broke. I had to stop in the first shoe store I saw and buy a new pair. Of course they only had stripper red heels with six-inch spikes in my size. Thankfully I wore a red blouse this morning. It doesn’t look horrible but I feel like I look like someone who sleeps her way to the top instead of a hard-working employee.

  When I stopped to get coffee, I dropped it as soon as I stepped out of the shop, but I didn’t have time to go back in and get another one. Such is life, I’ll survive without coffee... somehow.

  I suck in a deep breath, blowing it out slowly as the elevator doors open to my new home away from home. Scott, Powell and Coleman.

  “Can I help you?” A perky woman sitting behind a desk tilts her head, examining me.

  “Um, yes, I’m Logan Johnson. I'm looking for Ms. Sampson.”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “Yes. Today’s my first day, she asked me to meet her at ten.”

  “Perfect! I'm Cindy by the way. Let me give her a call and let her know you’re here. You can have a seat.”

  I slowly lower myself onto the soft white leather couch a few feet away. Cindy answers one phone call after another, her chipper voice brings a smile to my face. I hope everyone here is as nice and happy as Cindy seems to be.

  The click of heels draws my attention to an older woman walking towards me, a large smile on her lips.

  “Logan?”

  “Yes.” I stand, smoothing down my pencil skirt.

  “I'm Doris, it’s nice to finally meet you in person.” She holds out her hand, shaking mine.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I'm happy to be here.”

  “Let’s hope you still feel that way at the end of the day.”

  Wait... what?

  My brain scrambles for reasons I wouldn’t be happy here. That’s not normally something you hear on your first day of a new job. I'm searching for some way to respond but honestly, what do you say to something like that?

  “I'm sure I’ll love it here.”

  “How much do you know about Mr. Scott?”

  My brows furrow together as I try to remember what I read last night when I researched the company a little bit more to prepare for my first day.

  “Oh... uh... Mr. Scott was the top of his class at Harvard.” I follow Doris down a long hal
lway with offices on either side. “His father started this company with Mr. Powell and Mr. Coleman, who both have sons. When they retired the three sons took over. They seem to be taking more risks but so far it has paid off.”

  Doris stops abruptly, I almost bump into her but I stop just in time. She turns to face me, brows raised.

  “Whatever you do, don’t mention them making risky decisions. That’s a sure way to get yourself fired.”

  Without waiting for my response, Doris spins on her heels and continues down the hall. We stop at a desk in front of the corner office and she presses the intercom button.

  “Mr. Scott?”

  I listen to the exchange, finally understanding why Doris said hopefully I’d still be happy about being here at the end of the day. Mr. Scott sounds... difficult. Yeah, difficult seems like a nice way to describe him.

  “I'm sorry about him.” Doris sighs, glancing at the ceiling. “He’s a bit of a pain in the ass and rude doesn’t even begin to describe him. He’s full out nasty some days, but if you can handle him, this is an amazing job... just don’t cry. He’ll fire you on the spot if you cry.”

  “Has he really made other people cry?” I swallow thickly. There’s no way he’s that mean, they have to be exaggerating. But when I meet Doris’s gaze, she winces and confirms my fear, he really is horrible.

  “Sadly, the last two assistants left crying within two hours of meeting Mr. Scott. The one before them lasted only thirty minutes before they said this wasn’t worth the paycheck... I'm gonna be straight with you, Logan. I need you to stay, I'm out of options for Mr. Scott, no one wants to work with him and I'm too old to deal with his grumpy ass anymore. If you make it past ninety days, I’ll make sure you get a large raise.”

  Damn, I could really use that raise for all of those overdue medical bills, the treatments and tests I’ll need to continue. It’s going to cost a large fortune. Not only does this position pay well, but if I got a large raise, maybe I could finally be out of debt.

  “I’m here for the long run.” I say confidently, squaring my shoulders.

  “Let’s wait until you meet Mr. Scott, then we can see how long you plan on staying around... I have to meet another new hire, make yourself comfortable until Mr. Scott decides to grace you with his presence... it could be awhile.”