“Looks good,” my boss said, oogling my lunch as he put down some files for me to work on. As there were only two of us in the office and someone still had to take calls during my lunch, I was eating at my desk, scrolling on my phone. “How’s the day been going?”
“The phones are pretty slow. I should get this done this afternoon.”
“There’s no rush.” He hopped up onto my U- shaped desk casually. My boss was a very good looking man. He worked out religiously, and was pleasantly muscular. He had a strong jaw, dark brown eyes and curly, closely cropped auburn hair. He was pretty young for a guy who owned his own business – he’d just taken over from his retiring father – just a few years older than me. At first, it had been strange working for someone who would normally be my peer after having the usual late middle aged managers. But I grew to appreciate his style; he was particular, but at the same time laid back, and although he seemed serious, he actually had a quiet sense of humor that I enjoyed. Over the few years I’d been his assistant, I felt like we’d become a good team.