Free She's the Boss by Lisa Lim

obvious to me that Carter had now dropped the charm act and any trace of kindness had been entirely erased. He was his usual broody, arrogant self.
    I took a deep drag and angled my head to the left, blowing a smooth stream of smoke across my shoulder. I allowed myself the faintest glimmer of a smile as Carter advanced toward me. “What’s the matter, Carter? Did a pigeon poop in your eye?”
    “No,” he replied nonplussed.
    “Did someone stab you in the brain with a wooden stake?”
    “No!” Carter’s voice surged with irritation.
    “Walk barefoot over a bed of glowing coals?”
    This time, Carter said nothing, but his eyes flashed like hot embers.
    I ventured, “Smack your head on a tree branch, perhaps?”
    His jaw went rigid as he stood before me. “Are you suffering from verbal diarrhea? Or is there a point to this onslaught?”
    I took another drag on my cigarette.
    “You know,” Carter went on, “there is a saying in Russia: One idiot can ask more questions than a thousand wise men could answer.”
    “Is that so?” With palpable lack of interest, I asked, “Was the Russian philosopher named Smirnofficus?”
    “What?”
    Jeez, Carter certainly was slow on the uptake.
    “Never mind,” I said lightly, blowing out smoke rings and watching them float away. “I was just wondering why you’re always scowling. Half the time you look sort of constipated.”
    Carter paused for a fraction of a moment, clearly put off by such open hostility. “That’s because you reek of a charcoal furnace,” he said, not looking the least bit contrite. “And I find it very difficult to breathe when I’m around you.”
    I looked at my cigarette in surprise to see that it had burnt away without me even noticing. I lit another and took a long drag.
    “Do you mind?” He coughed loudly. “Your second hand smoke is killing me. Not to mention, it’s turning you into a black lunged cow.”
    Wait. Did he just call me a cow?
    “How dare you! You-you,” I sputtered, racking my brain for a suitable cutting comeback. “You pink-lunged prick!”
    Pink-lunged prick? I blinked furiously. Really, Kars?
    Judging from Carter’s stupefied expression, he had been called many things, but never that. Meanwhile, my gloves were still on and I boldly stepped into the ring. “Why do you even care so much about your health?” Since cigarettes had much the same effect on Carter as garlic on a vampire, I continued puffing like a chimney. “You’re so miserable all the time, I’m actually doing you a favor. Heck, if you lived a day longer you’d just be prolonging your misery.”
    For a while, he simply stared at me and said nothing.
    Belatedly, I realized I’d sounded callous. After all, I’d still have to see him at work tomorrow. That is, if I lived to see tomorrow. For one irrational second, I contemplated committing hara-kiri before Carter actually did the deed for me.
    By now, Carter had regained himself. His face clouded with anger and he sent a death wish in my direction.
    I gulped. If Carter placed both his hands on the sides of my head, there was no doubt in my mind that he could squash my cranium like a coconut.
    Nervously, I tossed my hair over my shoulder and decided to play nice in a pathetic attempt to cover up my faux pas. “So tell me.” I summoned up a smile and said ultra-casually, “What do you do during your spare time? That is, when you’re not tormenting your workers or scowling at the sky?”
    I did have the satisfaction of seeing his eyes narrow slightly. I think Carter was surprised by my question and even more surprised by my interest in him.
    Instead of responding to my question, he said dryly, “And why, may I ask, are you flicking your hair? Are you flirting with me?”
    “Me? Flirt with you ? Pssh! Puh-lease! I’m just flipping my hair, you know . . . like a typical girl.”
    “A typical girl? Really? For a moment there I wasn’t so sure.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Well . . . it had crossed