“That’s not pathetic. It’s nice that you’d only use that kind of power for making people treat you with common courtesy.”
“But it means I’ll never rule the world,” I said with a melodramatic sigh.
“Ruling the world is overrated. It would really cut into your leisure time.”
I laughed. “Do you even know what leisure time is?”
He gave me a wry smile. “I once translated the definition from an ancient dictionary in an arcane tongue.”
The waitress brought our pie, and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to inhale it. “What about you?” I asked after a few bites, mostly to pace myself.
“I’d probably use the power to make people leave me alone.”
The sound of coughing made me turn slightly in my chair. The cougher at the next table looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. It was probably just one of those Central Casting regulars who seem to be required by law to inhabit every coffee shop. I waved over our waitress to ask her to bring him some water to help ease that cough.
When I returned my attention to Mimi, she was up and heading toward the door. As annoying as Mimi might have been to the staff and other patrons, things would likely get much worse if she got back out into the city.
Under my breath, I said to Owen, “We’ve got to keep her here. Follow my lead, and don’t overreact.”
He’d just started to ask, “Overreact?” when Mimi reached our table and then walked past without even noticing me.
Although it went against all the survival skills I’d developed while working for her to draw her attention to me, I called out, “Oh, hi, Mimi!” She stopped and turned to glare at me. Her cluster of sycophants moved to surround our table, looming threateningly over us. I fought off an instinctive shudder and forced my voice to remain bright and cheery. “Imagine seeing you here. This isn’t your usual sort of joint. I never thought I’d see you in a place that doesn’t take reservations.”
“You’re following me!” she accused.
“Yeah! Following her! You shouldn’t do that!” her groupies chorused.
“I’m eating pie,” I countered, pointing to the evidence with my fork. “It has nothing to do with you.”
“I’m getting tired of your games. I fired you. Now stay away from me.”
“You’ve never fired me. I quit because I got a better job. And I wasn’t working for you tonight.”
“You were stealing my brooch. That’s what you were doing, and I won’t let you do it again.” She executed a sharp turn that would have delighted my high school band director, gestured for her court of admirers to follow, and headed for the exit.
Motioning for Owen to stay in his seat, I jumped up and ran to block the doorway. “I’m not done with you,” I said, barely suppressing a giddy giggle from living out the kind of scenario I used to dream about in staff meetings.
Mimi and I stood nose-to-nose as her groupies clustered behind her. She arched an eyebrow. “What could you want with me? You were just some underqualified secretary who dragged me down.”
Although I’d been trying to antagonize her, I felt my cheeks blaze. “Dragged you down?” I sputtered. I was only buying time, I reminded myself. Nothing she said really mattered. “I kept that department afloat. I bet you had to find yourself a rich fiancé after I quit because you no longer had anyone around to clean up your mistakes and make you look good. You had a résumé that impressed your boss, but you were lousy at your job and cruel to your staff. Somebody would have eventually seen you for what you were.” The surge of adrenaline from finally saying these things to her face made me shaky, and I braced myself against the door so the shaking wouldn’t be quite so obvious.
Now Mimi’s face was turning red. “How dare you speak to me like that?” she demanded. “Don’t you know who I am?” Her groupies closed in, echoing Mimi. I felt like the nerd being cornered on the playground by the school mean girl and her friends.
“Yes, I know who you are,” I said, forcing myself not to show fear even though I was deliberately poking a snake with a sharp stick. “You’re the worst boss I’ve ever had—and that includes the one who turned into a literal ogre when he was angry. At least he couldn’t help it.”
She gave me a venomous smile, and I braced myself for what would come next. I’d seen that look before. “What would you know, you little hick? You thought your insignificant state school business degree and your ‘experience’”—she made air quotes—“working in some small-town store qualified you in any way to work in the big leagues? You were lucky to get a job at all.”