“I’m leaving,” I announce.
“To go where?” Victoria frowns.
“Wherever I want to.” That sounded bad. I point at her. “Because I’m pissed off, not because I’m spoiled.”
Victoria widens her eyes to accentuate the point.
“Shut up, Victoria,” I spit.
“Yes, sir.” She smiles.
“And don’t patronize me.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
I fume some more.
The girls all drop their heads to hide their giggles.
“Stop laughing or I’m firing you all,” I demand.
They all burst out laughing hard this time. I’m usually the funny guy of the office. Never the cranky one.
“That’s it!” I explode. The elevator doors open, and I storm inside and push the button hard. “No Christmas bonuses.”
They laugh harder again.
Witches . . . I take the elevator to the ground floor and walk out to the parking garage and look around. My car isn’t where I parked it.
I march over to the parking attendant. “Where’s my car?”
His eyes widen in horror. “Um . . .” He looks around nervously. “We weren’t aware you were coming to collect it, sir. We put it on the bottom level to make room for other cars that are leaving before you.”
What?
I raise my eyebrow, infuriated.
“When I park my car in a reserved parking spot, I expect that the fucking car will be left where I put it.”
The attendant opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again before saying anything.
“What?” I bark.
“That’s why we have your keys, sir, so that we can move cars around to suit the schedule. We do it every day.”
“Does this look like it is suiting my schedule?” I bark. “What am I supposed to do? I need my car. Now!”
“There it is,” I hear someone mutter. I turn to see Elliot standing to the side, listening.
What’s he fucking doing here?
“Never mind,” I snap as I march back toward the elevator. “I’ll catch an Uber.” I straighten my tie as I try to regain some control. “Because I’m flexible.”
The parking attendant frowns and looks to Elliot.
“Flexible,” Elliot mouths.
“Go back upstairs, Elliot, before I have my Uber driver run over you,” I snap as I bang the button to close the elevator doors.
Elliot runs and gets in alongside me, and the doors close. “Calm down,” he says. “We’re just having some fun.”
I clench my jaw as I stare straight ahead.
“You are not spoiled.”
I lift my chin in defiance.
“You’re entitled.”
My eyes bulge from their sockets. “Entitled to knock you out, right now,” I growl. The elevator doors open, and I march out through the foyer and onto the street. Elliot is hot on my heels.
We both stand on the curb, and he looks over at me. “What time is he coming?”
“Who?”
“The Uber.”
I frown.
“You ordered it . . . right?”