\u201cGrrreg! Come in here.\u201d<\/p>\n
I hated how he rolled his Rs. It always made my skin crawl. This time it also made me chomp down on my tongue. Made it bleed.<\/p>\n
I swallowed my blood with a wince. God, I hoped he couldn\u2019t smell it. But I knew he could. He could smell everything. The worst thing about having a wolf for a boss, worse than the rolled Rs, worse than the trails of saliva down the corridors and in the break room, was his sense of smell. I learned early on, and learned the hard way, to forgo steaks for dinner, even on weekends. He\u2019d always get a whiff of it the following day, and he\u2019d be on me like\u2026well, like a wolf.<\/p>\n
My sense of smell, unfortunately, though not on par with a wolf\u2019s, was still quite keen. I opened the door to his office and the stench churned my stomach. Don\u2019t vomit again! Don\u2019t vomit. Don\u2019t vomit.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, Boss. What is it, Boss?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCongrrratulations.\u201d His tongue swiped his teeth and gums as if lapping up the saliva-ladened syllables that dripped from his mouth.<\/p>\n
I managed, quite convincingly, to contain my enthusiasm. I deserved that promotion. He wasn\u2019t doing me any favors. \u201cThank you, Sir.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re going to be Simon\u2019s right hand man.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSimon?\u201d That incompetent suck up!<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, Simon!\u201d My boss\u2019s tail rose from behind his chair, swished back and forth, and smacked the phone on his desk, knocking over the receiver. \u201cEvery good project manager needs an excellent project manager\u2019s assistant.\u201d<\/p>\n
If, by good project manager, he meant an opportunistic buffoon whose only contribution was daily bison scraps, then yes, Simon did deserve the promotion. I bit down on my disappointment. \u201cThank you, Sir. Will there be anything else, Sir?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. Don\u2019t tell Simon until after lunch. I want to give him the good news myself.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, and speaking of lunch. No more antelope. I\u2019m sick of antelope. Order me elk. I have a craving for elk today.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, Sir.\u201d I turned to step out of his office, then like the \u2018excellent assistant\u2019 that I was, I turned back. \u201cIt\u2019s just that\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s just, what?\u201d His tail swiped the desk and sent some papers to the floor\u2013my efficiency report! <\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s just that they take so long to deliver elk. Perhaps I could\u2026\u201d I paused for dramatic effect and feigned to be intimidated by his beady black eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cPerhaps you could what? Spit it out!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPerhaps I could put in the elk order for tomorrow. Then it\u2019d be sure to arrive on time.\u201d<\/p>\n
His smile, if you could call it a smile, stretched behind his perked up ears. He showed me his fangs. His tongue flapped out of the side of his mouth, and he made no attempt to keep the saliva from dripping out. \u201cElk meat, today!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, Sir. Will do, Sir.\u201d I slipped out, shut the door behind me, and took a deep breath of slightly less repugnant air.<\/p>\n
Quarter past one and the tension in the office was palpable. No one dared leave for lunch before the boss got his. I picked up my phone and made the call. \u201cListen, Simon. The boss needs to see you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I barely had the time to hang up the receiver before Simon came parading by my cubicle. He gave me a nod. I scrunched my nose and turned my head in rehearsed disgust. \u201cP.U.!\u201d I fanned my face. \u201cHell, Simon. What happened to you?\u201d<\/p>\n
He stopped dead in his tracks\u2013might as well have been a deer in my headlights. \u201cWhat? What do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI mean that smell.\u201d I pinched my nose with one hand, with the other I pulled the flask out of my desk drawer and handed it to him. \u201cDon\u2019t go in there like that. Here, spray a bit of this on you first.\u201d<\/p>\n
He undid the cap and took a whiff\u2013as if he could tell shit from Chanel!<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s what you need.\u201d I waved him away, my other hand still covering my nose. \u201cNow hurry up before I get sick and the boss gets impatient.\u201d<\/p>\n
He sprayed his neck\u2013Perfect spot. Good choice, Simon.\u2013handed me back the flask with a smile, and headed for the boss\u2019s office.<\/p>\n
Elk urine had never smelled so sweet.<\/p>\n
I put the flask back in the drawer, retrieved the other one\u2013Cognac\u2013and strutted down to Cindy\u2019s cubicle. Her cubicle had a much better view of the boss\u2019s office than mine\u2013just off to the side of the glass partition. I passed yet another intern on the way. I smiled at him since I was, after all, glad to see him. Even though we hadn\u2019t had a mauling in months, it\u2019s always handy to have a few interns around just in case.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s up?\u201d asked Cindy.<\/p>\n
I plopped myself on her desk and spun around so I could get a good view of the boss\u2019s office. \u201cHow\u2019s the new intern working out for you?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot bad. Not bad.\u201d<\/p>\n
I opened the flask, took a sip, and handed it to Cindy.<\/p>\n
\u201cSays he enjoys the job and can\u2019t wait to get his hands dirty,\u201d she added.<\/p>\n
I chuckled. Even though it was a shit job with a wolf for a boss, sometimes things seemed to work out for everyone\u2013well, almost everyone.<\/p>\n
\u201cThanks. What are we drinking to?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe sweet smell of success, Cindy. The sweet smell of success.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u201cGrrreg! Come in here.\u201d I hated how he rolled his Rs. It always made my skin crawl. This time it also made me chomp down on my tongue. Made it bleed. I swallowed my blood with a wince. God, I hoped he couldn\u2019t smell it. But I knew he could. He could smell everything. The …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":99555,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,19587],"tags":[19586],"class_list":["post-124039","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-tcl-25-fall-2017","tag-the-colored-lens-25-autumn-2017","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/124039","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/99555"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=124039"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/124039\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":139459,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/124039\/revisions\/139459"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=124039"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=124039"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=124039"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}