Read Online A Wild Ride (Jessica Brodie Diaries #3) by K. F. Breene - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: K. F. Breene
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sucked dating the boss.
"I want borrowing rights without asking,” I began, ready to negotiate. “I want one fly coupon per four-hour work day in any circumstance unless drunk. I want one bar pass per 4 hour day. And when you start making money, I want to renegotiate the terms. Any extra work above and beyond finance is also subject to negotiation."
William popped back into reality as Adam titled his head, confusion replacing scorn.
"Continuous borrowing of my closet without restriction? No way. You can borrow without asking once per assigned work day. Fly coupon, fine, but in a ten mile limit. Bar pass, fine, except if my guy goes for me it counts. And the assigned hour work day for all of the above should be ten hours." Lump crossed her arms.
“What’s a fly—“
“William, don’t interrupt; we are negotiating. Ten hours?! You are dreaming, girl! Doing favors for you take longer than they should because of your extreme lack of organization. I'll go to five, no less.”
Lump’s jaw clenched.
“Seriously,” I went on, “I’m constantly involved in your schemes, and they never work out because you get bored and give up. I am not in a hurry to do this. And you will get your lazy ass to the bar by your own two feet, and fly, to pick up food,” I looked at William, “by your own car or feet, crawling if need be. Your guy, which you have yet to cement, isn't the one needing a favor. No dice, Betsy. Go bark up another tree."
The boys' faces were now worried.
"All the times I have helped you, Jessica Lynn. All the times I’ve got you out of fixes. All the men I have beat off you, or the women I have tripped to make you look good, and you can't bend your free time a tiny bit? Eight hours. I'll ask for eight hours, which is a normal day’s work. Don't even tell me you are going to work as hard on my stuff as you do your job! And my guy might not count, but heralding a waitress should. That is an irritating thing to do."
"You are still under the impression I haven't forgotten about the smoothie shop, Betsy Anne . I am not going past six hours. Not an hour past. And fuck you—your ass to the bar, or you can lick my twat." I started to get up. My face was getting red, I was shaking, I was almost foaming at the mouth.
Lump knew me, though. She stood up, too, anger crossing her face and her fists balling. "You are a worthless friend, Jessica. A dirty worthless friend! I’ll kick your twat if you think I am going to side-step a waitress to go to the bar and go down past seven."
William and Adam got up in a hurry, arms ready to come between us. They were the only ones ready to intercede. The rest of the guys in the area, which had gathered around to watch the fireworks, had smiles a plenty. They were hoping to see a cat fight.
"A dirty worthless friend that isn't going up from six, a proper waitress flag and order, or your worthless lazy ass walking to the bar. Throw down if you want, but I'll get at least one eye and have you lookin' like a pirate, eye patch and all." I leaned in to her, ready to do battle.
She tensed all her muscles, staring at me with hate.
Then her face broke and she started chuckling.
"Bitch," she said, sitting back down. "You always get the better end of the deal. And a pirate? "
I laughed. "You only say that because you don't have to work for yourself. I am more kind-hearted then you give me credit for!"
"Willie, relax," Lump said with humor, sipping her drink. "We were just negotiating. She is a damned tight ass—you have to threaten her to get anything!"
“Them girls is crazy!” someone muttered as he wandered away.
William looked back and forth between Lump and I with candor. "Are you fooling?"
"Willie, don't put it past 'em. Your lady there can argue the teats off a nursin' goat," Adam said, sitting down and going back to his beer.
"Ew," I remarked. "I hate goats."
William just sat down and shook his head. "Paul’s right, women are crazy."
"You got that right, man!"
"I want borrowing rights without asking,” I began, ready to negotiate. “I want one fly coupon per four-hour work day in any circumstance unless drunk. I want one bar pass per 4 hour day. And when you start making money, I want to renegotiate the terms. Any extra work above and beyond finance is also subject to negotiation."
William popped back into reality as Adam titled his head, confusion replacing scorn.
"Continuous borrowing of my closet without restriction? No way. You can borrow without asking once per assigned work day. Fly coupon, fine, but in a ten mile limit. Bar pass, fine, except if my guy goes for me it counts. And the assigned hour work day for all of the above should be ten hours." Lump crossed her arms.
“What’s a fly—“
“William, don’t interrupt; we are negotiating. Ten hours?! You are dreaming, girl! Doing favors for you take longer than they should because of your extreme lack of organization. I'll go to five, no less.”
Lump’s jaw clenched.
“Seriously,” I went on, “I’m constantly involved in your schemes, and they never work out because you get bored and give up. I am not in a hurry to do this. And you will get your lazy ass to the bar by your own two feet, and fly, to pick up food,” I looked at William, “by your own car or feet, crawling if need be. Your guy, which you have yet to cement, isn't the one needing a favor. No dice, Betsy. Go bark up another tree."
The boys' faces were now worried.
"All the times I have helped you, Jessica Lynn. All the times I’ve got you out of fixes. All the men I have beat off you, or the women I have tripped to make you look good, and you can't bend your free time a tiny bit? Eight hours. I'll ask for eight hours, which is a normal day’s work. Don't even tell me you are going to work as hard on my stuff as you do your job! And my guy might not count, but heralding a waitress should. That is an irritating thing to do."
"You are still under the impression I haven't forgotten about the smoothie shop, Betsy Anne . I am not going past six hours. Not an hour past. And fuck you—your ass to the bar, or you can lick my twat." I started to get up. My face was getting red, I was shaking, I was almost foaming at the mouth.
Lump knew me, though. She stood up, too, anger crossing her face and her fists balling. "You are a worthless friend, Jessica. A dirty worthless friend! I’ll kick your twat if you think I am going to side-step a waitress to go to the bar and go down past seven."
William and Adam got up in a hurry, arms ready to come between us. They were the only ones ready to intercede. The rest of the guys in the area, which had gathered around to watch the fireworks, had smiles a plenty. They were hoping to see a cat fight.
"A dirty worthless friend that isn't going up from six, a proper waitress flag and order, or your worthless lazy ass walking to the bar. Throw down if you want, but I'll get at least one eye and have you lookin' like a pirate, eye patch and all." I leaned in to her, ready to do battle.
She tensed all her muscles, staring at me with hate.
Then her face broke and she started chuckling.
"Bitch," she said, sitting back down. "You always get the better end of the deal. And a pirate? "
I laughed. "You only say that because you don't have to work for yourself. I am more kind-hearted then you give me credit for!"
"Willie, relax," Lump said with humor, sipping her drink. "We were just negotiating. She is a damned tight ass—you have to threaten her to get anything!"
“Them girls is crazy!” someone muttered as he wandered away.
William looked back and forth between Lump and I with candor. "Are you fooling?"
"Willie, don't put it past 'em. Your lady there can argue the teats off a nursin' goat," Adam said, sitting down and going back to his beer.
"Ew," I remarked. "I hate goats."
William just sat down and shook his head. "Paul’s right, women are crazy."
"You got that right, man!"
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