The Ruthless Boss

"Who made those rules?" Joanne asked, her tone sharp, arms crossed. Last she checked, she was the only one with the authority to make rules around here.

The young security guard, Nolan, stared at her with a mix of defiance and the overconfidence that came with his youth. "My dad," he said, squaring his shoulders. "He owns this place."

Joanne couldn't help but chuckle, though there was no humor in it. "Go get your manager," she said, her voice calm but laced with steel. "Tell him Joanne Smith wants to see him." She took a step forward, only for Nolan to block her again, his chest puffed out like a rooster guarding a barnyard.

That was the final straw. Joanne's patience evaporated, leaving only the fire in her eyes. "You didn't even bother to learn the name of your boss?" she asked, her voice rising, sharp enough to cut glass. "One more word out of you, and I'll fire you right here and now."

Her tone left no room for argument, and with a firm push, she stepped past the dumbfounded guard and through the door.

The moment she entered, the entire office froze. Conversations stopped mid-sentence, and every staff member stood up, eyes widening as they took in her appearance. Mud-streaked boots, dirt on her hands, and an aura that could turn a summer day into a thunderstorm.

"HR Manager, to my office. Now!" Joanne barked, her voice echoing through the space like a whip crack. She didn't wait for a response, heading straight to her cabin, the door slamming shut behind her.

For a moment, silence reigned. The employees stood rooted in place, as if any movement might draw her wrath. Only after a long, collective breath did the whispers begin.

"What is it this time?" one voice murmured nervously.

"She always finds something. Even when we're doing our best, she just…"

"Chews us out," another finished. "Like she enjoys it or something."

"Boss or not, it's exhausting. Who works like this?"

In the corner of the lobby, JD stepped out of the restroom just in time to catch the tense atmosphere. He looked around at the pale, anxious faces, raising a brow in curiosity. He was the only one waiting for an interview—an unusual sight, considering the impressive salary Shamrock Logistics was rumored to offer.

He approached the front desk, where the receptionist, Nina, was casually unwrapping a piece of gum. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and gave him a knowing look. "Boss is here," she said, rolling her eyes as she popped the gum into her mouth.

JD arched a brow, intrigued. The whole office felt like they were bracing for a tornado. The stark difference between this place and how his grandfather had run his business struck him.

"You can still escape," Nina said, smirking as she leaned against the desk.

JD's lips quirked into a smile. "Is the boss really that terrifying?" he asked. He knew the boss was a woman, but it was hard to imagine anyone in this small town being so fearsome.

Nina motioned for him to lean in closer. He obliged, more amused than wary. "Have you ever seen The Devil Wears Prada?" she whispered conspiratorially.

JD nodded, suppressing a groan at the memory. Most of his ex-girlfriends had forced him to endure that movie, along with other romantic dramas. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Our boss is like Miranda Priestly," Nina said with a grin. "Ruthless. But without the fashion sense or the wit." She giggled behind her hand.

JD chuckled softly, though he couldn't quite picture it. A small-town woman running her company like Miranda Priestly? It seemed absurd. But as he glanced around at the terrified employees, he started to wonder if Nina's comparison wasn't entirely off the mark.

"So, you're saying I should run for the hills?" JD teased, his charm shining through.

Nina gave him a pitying look. "I'm saying you'd be smart to walk out of here while you still can. This place eats people alive."

JD's smile didn't falter. He let Nina chatter on, trying her best to dissuade him, but her words slid off him like water off a duck's back. He needed this job. Whatever or whoever this Joanne Smith was, he wasn't about to let her—or anyone else—stand in the way of his plans.

Nina sighed as JD sat back in his chair, completely unfazed. "You're either brave or stupid," she muttered, popping her gum.

JD smiled wider, his eyes twinkling. "Let's just say I'm determined."

-----

Inside the cabin, Joanne tapped the back of her pen on the polished oak table, the sound echoing in the tense silence. The security manager and HR manager stood before her, their postures stiff under her withering gaze. Sunlight filtered through the half-drawn blinds, casting striped shadows across their faces, but neither dared shift to avoid the discomfort of her scrutiny.

Her eyes locked on Mr. Williams, the security manager, who seemed determined to focus anywhere but on her. "Mr. Williams," Joanne began, her voice as calm and cold as a steel blade, "I've been very clear that untrained security staff should not be assigned to the gates. Yet here we are. Nolan didn't let me into my own building this morning because I was 'dressed dirty.' Can you believe that?"

She didn't wait for an answer. "This is a logistics company. For ranchers. For farmers. Should I expect my clients to show up in suits and ties just to drop off their paperwork? Should I?" Her tone sharpened, each word punctuated by the quiet fury simmering beneath her composed exterior.

Mr. Williams opened his mouth, but his voice faltered. "I—I asked Mr. Nolan to guard the warehouse, but he preferred—"

Joanne cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand. "Preferred? Aren't you the manager, Mr. Williams?" Her words hung in the air like a challenge.

His gaze flicked reflexively toward Brian Cooper, the HR manager. That small movement, almost imperceptible, was all Joanne needed. Her lips tightened. There it was—the silent confirmation of what she'd suspected: Brian's meddling.