The Boss

This is the diary of a London career girl. Scarlett Jones. Regrettably single and most mornings hung over she decides to get her life on track and begin a diary with two simple resolutions. One: Loose 20 pounds. Two: Find the perfect man.


2. Is skirt off sick?

Back from yet another dreaded turkey buffet, I lay in my London flat, on my sofa with a cigarette, a bottle of wine watching a romcom. Alone. How sad can my life get?

Drinking away my sorrows, this was regrettably another night where I get drunk alone listening to sad love songs, wishing I had someone to share this Christmas evening with.

Taking a drag of my cigarette, I had chosen to switch the unrealistic film off halfway through as I made my way off the sofa to the phone to check if I had any voice-mails on this not so fine Christmas evening. "You have no messages". No surprise there then.

Gulping down my large glass of wine was all I could remember before waking up on my sofa which was stained with red wine and full of creased romance novels. Oh Scarlett.

And so I made a major decision. I had to make sure that next year I wouldn't end up out of my face listening to sad FM,  which was easy listening for the over 30's.

I've decided to take control of my life and start a diary that tells the absolute truth about Scarlett Jones. The whole truth.

Resolution Number 1, obviously will loose 20 pounds. Number two, always put last nights pants in the laundry basket, equally important, will find nice sensible boyfriend to go out with and continue to NOT form any romantic attachments to the following:

Alcoholics, Workoholics, over-emotional workmen or perverts.

And particularly not fantasise about a particular person who embodies all these things.

*Monday morning- work (eurgh)*

Unfortunately, all of these things happen to be my new boss, Harry Styles. And for various reasons relating to this years previous Turkey Curry buffet, I suspect he does not share of similar desires about me.

Yes that's right. He is the arrogant, wealthy, cocky man who my mother tried to fix me up with but I couldn't help but feel something for him after I left the buffet. Whether it be his looks or not existent charm, I don't know what it is.

Oh yes. Where was I? Monday morning that's it, not that there is ever anything special about that day, apart from the fact that I am sitting at my desk along with all my other work colleges and happen to be gazing though to Mr Styles Office.

I have front view.

Just as I think he would never look round, he catches eye contact right at the wrong moment. When I am staring. His hand gesture tells me to look at my screen, so I smile cheekily but just as I look back I realise he is talking to Mr Fitsherbert, his boss, behind me.

 Scarlett you fool.

"Happy New Year Mr Fitsherbert" I tell him as he walks up to Mr Styles office. 

"Happy New Year Brenda" Mr Fitsherbert, Harry's boss stares right at my chest every time he speaks to me, who has no idea who I really am or what I do.

"Morning, I need that new Kafka motorbike released by 11" Perpetua, my fellow work college who is slightly older than me who therefore thinks she is in charge of me. Most of the time I just want to staple things to her head.

The work phone rings on my desk, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Publicity" I announce who is on my side of the line.

"He left me, I don't know what to do Scar, he's said we were fine oh god".

Daily call from Jude, best friend head of investment of a business, who spends most of her time trapped in the ladies toilets crying over her so called 'unreliable' boyfriend.

"Am I too clingy" she says through her tears.

"No you're not, it's not you, you're lovely, It's vile Richard, eurgh he's just a bloody idiot" As I look up I see Mr Styles stood with a smirk on his face. He knows I'm not working, so I try to prove my innocence.

"Is... some people's opinion of Kafka, but they couldn't be more wrong this book is a seering vision of the wounds our century had inflicted on, on traditional masculinity" Scarlett!?!?!? did that even make sense?

"Thank you for calling Professor Levus" I put the phone down. I didn't know whether portraying that I was just on call with a worldwide famous publisher was a step too far maybe?

"Leaflet, for launch party" Harry hands me the leaflet itching the back of his neck as he hands the crumpled sheets to me. Oh how I hate his dullness.

As he makes his way up the steps to his office he turns and speaks again. Oh lord...

"F.R Levus?" He asked checking thats who I was speaking with. He spoke in a surprised tone, wow an emotion.

"Mhmm" I smile

"Wow, wh- the F.R Levus who wrote 'the civilisation of minority culture?" He questions.

"Yes" I simply reply.

He walks up again and then turns, another sentence? How is he managing this?

"The F.R Levus who died in 1978?" He cleverly wipes my innocence off the table.

I form an awkward expression on my face as he sarcastically replies "Amazing" Rolling his eyes he finally enters his office.

*Later that evening Monday night- drinking sesh and dinner with besties, Jude, Shezza who is a Journalist and Tom  a professional cross dresser- fabulously rich - very camp*

"It was so embarrassing, what would you do to me Jude?" I ask about my previous encounter with Mr Styles. 

"I would fire you Scar" Excellent.

I took a whole vodka shot with my cigarette in the other hand as I asked them. "More vodka?" I nodded as Tom replied.

"Yes!! Fill her up god damn it. Fill her up." This is why he's one of my best friends.

Carrying me and my three best friends, the taxi stopped outside of my flat, in my drunk state, I fell out of the taxi door as Tom opened it.

"Oops mind the step" Shezza casually said.

"She's fine,c'mon" Tom shouted to the taxi driver, I hadn't even got up from the wet street pavement yet before he slammed the door in my face.

*Tuesday morning- HUNGOVER. Arrived late to work (afternoon) hope to not be confronted by Harry any further*

As I did the walk of shame up to my desk, Harry was taking a call with Mr Fitsherbert by his side, I quickly looked back to find them both gawking at me. 

I took my seat as Perpetua made a remark "Afternoon Scarlett" knowing how I was either hung over or had a 'late night'.

I nervously looked around and tapped my fingers on my desk as Mr Fitsherbert made his way out of Harry's office. He gave me a very unimpressed look.

As I logged on to my work computer, a box at the bottom of the screen popped up saying "new mail , Read now"

Surprised I read the message.

Harry Styles 
Serious problem"

I bite my lip, its probably my late arrival....

As I  look through the windows of his office he looks stressed and wipes his large hand over his face as he holds the phone to his ear, speaking into it.

I press enter, at my own risk the message is displayed on my screen.

"You appear to have forgotten you skirt." What? I laugh at his attempt to.... flirt?? The message carries on "Is skirt off sick?" I gasp at his cheekiness, this is a totally different Harry I know.

I look around to check whether I look suspicious, should I be getting my flirt on?.

I reply. 

Harry styles

Mr Styles, Am appalled by message.
Skirt was demonstrably neither sick nor absent.
Appalled by management's blatantly size-ist attitude to skirt.
Suggest management sick, not skirt!"

I press send as I banter to him. I pull a cheeky expression as I watch him receive my message he tells the phone "Hang on, hang on". He taps his mouse to open and reads.

I bite my nail as he raises his eyebrows and smiles, he looks over to me and says almost as if he is talking on the phone "Right... no... I understand that". 

I laugh and mouth "good" and cheekily raise my eyebrows.

What's happened to him?

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