The Worst Job

"What do you have to say for yourself?" she asked, lighting a cigarette and leaning back in her chair, feet propped on the desk in front of her.

I grimaced. This was a trap, I just knew it. She wanted me to incriminate myself, but to what end? She already had the money as far as I knew. And her name wasn't on any of the documents.

"About what, ma'am?" I replied, hoping to buy myself some time.

She laughed then and blew a cloud of smoke into the air above her head. "That's exactly what I want to hear. You didn't hear anything or see anything, so you don't need to say anything. You're dismissed."

Her gaze shifted to some beeping something or other on her computer, and it was as if I ceased to exist, not that I was unhappy about that development. I strode to the door as quickly as I could without appearing to run away, and let out a breath once the heavy oak closed behind me.

"What'd she want?" Herman asked with wide eyes.

"Loyalty assurance, I guess," I said, still perplexed by the interaction with my boss.

"I'm surprised you're still with us."

"Yeah, me too," I said. "I was pretty sure she was going to kill me like she did with Stu. How did we get ourselves into this mess, Herman?"

"Don't ask me. I didn't aspire to be a henchman. Who knew stumbling into an evil empire would be as simple as answering a want ad?"

Word Count: 255