Holly Jolly Cowboy (The Wyoming Cowboy #7)(83)

“I’ll get to them,” Lisa says tersely. She rubs her belly and glares at the man, who glares back.

Well, this is awkward. I tuck my hands back down to my sides and glance between the two of them. I truly hope that this isn’t going to be my boss, because yikes. Hot but pissy.

The man casts another imperious look in my direction and then points a finger at Lisa. “Get it done, today.” He turns on his heel without acknowledging me, and then he’s gone.

Lisa sticks her tongue out at his back. “Such a dick.”

My mouth has gone dry. “Is that . . . Mr. Magnus?” If so, my boss has a stunningly handsome (and stunningly dick-ish) husband.

“Sure is.”

I divert my attention to what looks like a stack of bills shoved under a book and my hands twitch with the need to clean up. “Does Mr. Magnus work for his wife?”

Her eyes widen, and then she chuckles. “Oh no. That’s a Mr. Magnus, but he’s not married to Dru. He’s her nephew, and between assistants himself, so I’m having to fill in.” She leans toward me confidentially. “No one likes him. Can’t keep anyone in his employ.”

My smile returns. “I’m good at multitasking.” I’m also a huge suck-up.

Lisa snaps her fingers and then pulls out her phone. “While I’m thinking about it, I had a few questions for you.”

“Oh, of course.” I read a book last night on interview questions one would expect at a fast-paced job, so I’m more than ready for this. I do wonder when we’re going to get to the sit-down part of the interview, but maybe Lisa’s just doing introductions before I meet her boss. That makes sense, and I give her a practiced, I’m-very-interested look. “Ask away.”

She flicks through her phone screen with her thumb. “Any allergies, food or otherwise?”

“No.” Weird, but maybe I’d be in charge of getting coffee or grocery shopping or something. Some assistants do that, don’t they? “Do you need to write this down? Should I take notes for you?” I dig in my purse, pulling out a notepad and pen. “I’m happy to do so.”

“Not necessary.” Lisa taps something on her phone and I’m pretty sure I hear game music. She stares at the screen for a moment and then looks back at me. “Star sign?”

Getting weirder. “Taurus.”

“Ah, a hard worker, and stubborn.” She dimples, nodding. “She’ll like that. Tauruses are great employees. Very easy to work with.”

“Thank . . . you?”

“Too bad Mr. Magnus is a Cancer. Very moody.” She makes a face, still locked onto her phone. “Here we go. Any particular crystal affinity?” She gestures at one of the shelves, and I notice for the first time that there are rows and rows of crystals of all shapes and sizes in glass containers. Not in any sort of order, of course, but I’m sure I can help with that, too.

“Um, I don’t think so?” This is definitely verging into weird territory. I’m starting to get a little uneasy, but I glance around the office again. Maybe this guy is some kind of new age hipster who needs inspiration to work on the game? “What do crystals have to do with the position?”

“A lot. Blood type?”

“Is that really important?” I ask finally, resisting the urge to show my frustration.

“Not necessarily,” Lisa admits. “But Ms. Magnus likes to know.”

“I’m an O.”

“Wonderful.” She types with her thumb. “Any physical ailments? Do you work out at a gym? Eat healthy?”

I’m torn between pointing out that those are extremely inappropriate questions and just answering, because I really want the job. “I count macros,” I say after a long moment. “For my nutrition.” And because it feeds my obsessive need for control to hit the numbers perfectly.

She tilts her head. “I guess that’s pretty good. Come upstairs with me and I’ll show you into Ms. Magnus’s personal offices.”

I follow behind her, glancing backward at the “lab” we’re leaving. If that’s not the office . . . Nope, Reggie. Don’t ask questions until they mention the pay. You’ve had weird jobs before. As long as it pays well, you can put up with weirdness. I paste a smile on my face and follow Lisa’s slower steps down the hall and toward the stairs. As we cut through the house, I glance over at the kitchen. Mr. Magnus is in there, with a glass of water in front of him on the counter. He’s leaning over it and staring intently in our direction, practically scowling.

I can’t help but notice that the kitchen is in complete disarray, with dishes on the counter and several cabinets hanging open. Maybe he hates the mess as much as I do, and that’s why he’s cranky.

“Just ignore him,” Lisa continues. “He doesn’t like strangers. Remember. Cancer sign.”

Right. Moody. That fits him. I cast a brilliant smile in his direction and I’m pleased when he gives me a startled look and turns away. I could swear he’s blushing. Suck on that, Magnus.

We head up the stairs and I swear, the second floor feels bigger than the first. There are two halls, both of them lined with doors, and a high ceiling with a crystal-covered chandelier above the stairwell. I gaze around me in awe as Lisa leads me past a glorious-looking library filled to the gills with all kinds of old books. There are portraits on the walls, most of them old, and I realize that the Magnus family is old, old money. No wonder they’re eccentric. Lisa heads toward a pair of double doors and opens them. “Just have a seat and I’ll let Ms. Magnus know that you’re here.”