Chaelisa | Lisa G!P
Lisa Manoban lives life the way she wants, no concern for the opinion of others. She cares for no one, is completely unrepentant, and she has no desire to change her ways.
Roseanne Park works under Lisa as her PA. She despises he...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Monday morning, Roseanne looked at me as if I had two heads.
“We’re doing what?”
I sighed, folding my paper and setting it on the counter. “I didn’t want to appear too eager, so I told Graham you and I had an errand to run this morning. He assumed it was to go get a marriage license, and I never corrected him.”
She picked up our plates and carried them to the sink. I had to admit she was a damned good cook. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten breakfast at home that didn’t come out of a box. Yesterday she had taken her car to do “errands,” and when she returned, it took two trips with me helping to bring up all the groceries she bought. I had thought she was crazy, but I was having second thoughts. Dinner last night had been some kind of delicious chicken and her scrambled eggs today were stellar. So was her coffee. I fully approved of the purchase of the new coffee maker.
She slumped against the sink, scrubbing her face. “You can let him think it, but we don’t have to do it.”
I shook my head. “Nope. We’re doing it. I want a paper trail. We don’t have to get married, just have the license.”
“Lisa.”
I lifted the check I had written off the table. “Consider it fair trade for my donation.” I arched my eyebrow at her. “My very generous donation.”
She had the grace to look embarrassed. “I told you, I had no idea what someone in your financial bracket would consider generous. When Irene was talking about it, one of the other women was a little catty and said she wouldn’t consider anything under a thousand generous.” She shrugged. “Before I realized what I was saying I had blurted out you had donated five thousand. It certainly shut her up.”
“I bet it did. And it’s fine. Except, you owe me, so I get one real-fake marriage license.”
She dumped her coffee in the sink. “Fine. I’ll go get ready.”
She stomped past me, and because she made me want to make her angry, I grabbed her wrist, dragging her to my lap. She gasped, pushing me away, and I laughed at her ineffectual struggle.
“Want me to come scrub your back?”
“No!"
“I’ll make another donation.”
She elbowed me in the ribs, making me lose my grip, and she stumbled to her feet. “Be careful, Lisa, or I’ll take you with me to the shelter and have you neutered!”
I burst out laughing at her indignation, letting her march away, muttering under her breath.
I had no idea why I enjoyed her outrage — but I did.
---
Graham shook my hand, offering me a seat at his private conference table. His office, like the rest of the building, was one of understated wealth. The furniture was the best quality, the artwork tasteful and elegant. More awards and small versions of winning campaigns filled the shelves that took up an entire wall. The need to have a campaign of mine displayed there burned within me.
