My Artistic Mafia Man

Chapter 2: Press Or Not?

Chapter 2: Press Or Not?

Eltan Storm

Faith's reaction after learning I was the new boss was somewhat hilarious. She froze like an ice sculpture in her spot the moment I didn't decline the claim, thus confirming her belated guess.

I got up from my seat slightly and arched an eyebrow. "So you bitch about your new boss right in front of him, and then, you say you don't care at the same time as long as you get your paycheck on time."

She bit her lip—utterly embarrassed. "... Sir—Boss... what shall I call you?"

I leaned toward her ear and whispered, "Eltan."

She took a step backward and shook her head. "No, no. How can I call my boss by his name?"

It was amusing to watch her unfiltered reaction, so I continued, "Why? You call Lance by his name."

"But Lance is Lance. You are my new boss and," she stopped talking for a while and gasped as something struck her mind. "Oh my God, I just bitched about my new boss to my new boss."

I put my hands in my pocket and agreed unrepentantly, "That you undoubtedly did."

Immediately, she looked up at me with sincere panicked eyes. "I am so sorry, Boss. Please don't fire me. I am even willing to work more hours for free as an apology," she requested, tears starting to form in her amber eyes.

My first instinct was to make those tears disappear from her eyes, that's why I took out a handkerchief from my pocket and handed it to her. "Okay, okay, don't start crying now."

She hesitantly accepted the handkerchief. "Thank you, Boss," mumbling that, she wiped the corner of her eyes.

When I looked around our surroundings and found others staring at us, I sighed and joked a little, "My other employees must be thinking I'm the rudest boss ever to have made their colleague cry the moment I stepped into the Berserkers."

"I am sorry," with that, she lowered her head. I was just joking, but it looked like she took it too seriously.

I sat on my chair again. "It's okay, Faith," as soon as I uttered her name, her gaze shot up at me. For some weird reason, it made me feel anxious. Did I make her feel uncomfortable with that? "Umm... are you okay with me calling you by your first name? Or shall I shift to Ms. Mabel?"

She seemed to consider for a moment, then she shook her head lightly. "No, you can call me anything you like. You are the boss, after all." She put the handkerchief in her apron pocket. "I will wash it and return it to you."

"No rush, don't worry about it." She nodded slightly, but then a brief awkward silence fell over between us, so I further spoke, "By the way, how many shifts do you work?"

"I work two shifts. The one which starts from the evening till early in the morning," she replied, maintaining a professional tone this time.

"You do know it's unhealthy to work for so long, right?" When she nodded, I inquired, "Is your pay worth the time and effort?"

"Of course, Boss!" she said abruptly.

I narrowed my eyes in her direction. "Did you just instantly agree because I am your boss?"

"No, I love to work here, and I'm not going to deny that the paycheck is the best attraction of this job, but there are also other perks—including free clubbing passes every day. Why will I have a reason to even hate this heavenly job?"

"You do clubbing every day?" I couldn't help but ask the moment she mentioned clubbing. It was unexpected.

She chuckled and shook her head. "No. I don't even drink alcohol."