by Score, Lucy
And I believed him.
* * *
Ruth stood behind the reception desk looking flushed and terrified when Dominic ushered me through the office door. I’d texted her and Gola a head’s up this morning.
Me: So, I have news, and I might be fired. Don’t say anything yet. I’ll spill as soon as I can unless I’m being escorted out by building security.
Her eyes were twice their normal size. “Dalessandra is ready for you in your office, Mr. Ru—Dominic,” she squeaked. She pushed a drink carrier in our direction. “I ordered you a tea and a coffee.”
Dom paused, a puzzled frown on his lips. “Uh. Thank you, Ruth. That was… nice of you.”
Ruth gave what looked like a little curtsy and then turned bright red.
Dominic cleared his throat and picked up the tray. “Are you ready?” he asked me.
“As I’ll ever be,” I said grimly.
He turned and started down the hall. “Thanks for the drinks,” I whispered to Ruth.
“I can’t believe I curtsied! He’s just so hot it makes me stupid.”
“Preaching to the choir, my friend.”
“Good luck in there. Drinks tonight after dance?” she said.
No matter what happened in Dalessandra’s office, I was going to need a sweaty dance class and alcohol. “Yeah. Sounds good. I’ll text you.”
We found Dalessandra seated on the white silk sofa next to the head of HR, a woman with deeply etched frown lines bracketing her mouth. Clearly Jasmine had snapped her photo ID too. In it, she had one eye closed and something resembling a snarl twisting her mouth.
“Good morning, Dominic, Ally,” Dalessandra said, putting her teacup down on the oval glass coffee table. “Please, have a seat.” She gestured toward the white leather chairs across from her and Lady McFrowny.
“Morning,” Dominic said, sounding about as friendly as a pissed-off wolverine.
“I believe you two know Candace from HR,” Dalessandra continued.
I actually didn’t know her but didn’t feel like it was a good time to bring that up.
There wasn’t a hint of what kind of shoe was about to fall on me. Was it a steel-toed boot designed to smash me into the carpet? Or perhaps a designer stiletto that would skewer me.
“Hi,” I croaked out a forced greeting.
Dominic sent me a what the fuck look, then took my hand and squeezed. Hard. Whether it was a good idea to rub our physical affection in HR Lady’s face, I wasn’t sure. But the contact calmed me. We were in this together.
Dalessandra’s lips quirked.
“I’ll just go ahead and put you two out of your misery,” Candace announced, peeling what looked like legal contracts out of a folder.
“Am I fired?”
“Christ,” Dominic muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.
“No one is fired,” Candace said dryly, sliding the pair of contracts toward us. I reached for mine, my sweaty fingers leaving smudges on the pristine glass beneath.
I skimmed over the first page looking for words like “termination” and “pack your shit” and “security is being called.”
“Since you two managed this budding relationship in a professional manner, the HR department is not opposed to allowing it to continue with a few caveats.”
Dominic squeezed my hand hard. Professional manner? He must not have mentioned me watching him masturbate in his office after-hours or me giving him a lap dance in his disclosure document.
“Which are?” he asked crisply.
“Ally will be transferred out of her current position and into a new placement at her current level of pay and benefits but further removed from your direct management.”
“Is that really necessary?” he asked, looking annoyed.
“It’s quite necessary,” she insisted.
I was busy scanning my document for the pertinent information. Graphics. I was being transferred to the graphics department. I was going to work for one of the premier publications in the world as a graphic designer, and I got to keep my hot boyfriend.
“I accept,” I said quickly.
All three of them looked at me, eyebrows raised.
A laugh bubbled up in my throat, and I covered it by choking on my coffee.
Dalessandra looked amused.
“In that case, Dominic, you’ll be assigned a new assistant until Greta returns,” Candace continued, peering over her glasses at him. “You and Ms. Morales will be expected to maintain a professional demeanor at all times during work hours.” Her gaze lingered on our linked hands. When I made a move to pull away, he merely tightened his grip.
“We’re not interested in creating any workplace drama,” Dominic said smoothly. “We are both serious about this relationship. I’m confident we can continue to do our jobs without allowing our personal lives to interfere.”
“Yeah. That,” I said, nodding effusively.
Dominic’s mouth quirked, and I knew he was going to tease me mercilessly for this student-principal interaction.
“Then I’d suggest that you speak as little as possible about this situation. We certainly don’t want to set a precedent that makes the rest of the staff feel like the rules are up for debate.”
They’d given us everything we could have wanted, but it still felt like a censure.
And I wasn’t cut out to be anyone’s secret girlfriend. I wasn’t going to lie to my friends just to make human resources more comfortable. There had been more than enough secrets kept within these walls. I was already shaking my head when Dominic met my eyes. He sighed.
“Ally and I would both prefer to be up front about this with our coworkers. We’re not interested in keeping secrets.”
Anymore. The word he hadn’t said hung in the air between us, shimmering like a neon sign that I hoped Dalessandra and Candace couldn’t see lest they start questioning us about the particulars of our relationship.
They shared a look.
“While our preference is that our employees keep their private lives private, perhaps a simple statement acknowledging the relationship and the reassignment will head off any unnecessary speculation,” Dalessandra suggested.
Dominic looked my way again, and I nodded vigorously.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll draft a statement and run it by HR.”
“Good enough for me,” Candace said. “Now, if you two will just sign those contracts stating you won’t let this relationship interfere with your working environment, we can all get back to work.”
I got the feeling Candace was annoyed that my silly love life was dragging her away from employee reprimands and benefits paperwork.
Hastily, I scrawled my signature on the contract, trying not to worry about words like “terminated” or “breach of contract” or “If for any reason you feel you are unable to adhere to the terms of this contract, please alert a human resources representative immediately.”
Dominic signed his contract without any outward reaction.
“Shall we all get back to our day?” Dalessandra asked with a smile.
56
Everyone
Gola: Girl, why am I Dominic Russo’s new acting assistant? Did you spell something out in his breakfast burrito?
Ruth: The entire office is whispering right now! Most popular rumors: Ally punched Dominic in the face. Dominic told his mother that it was him or you, she chose you, and now he’s packing.
Gola: Can confirm that Boss Man is NOT packing. Repeat. Not packing. Also, he knows my name.
Ruth: Video footage from the admin pool shows Malina sharpening her claws in anticipation of a new hunt.
Gola: I’m concerned. There hasn’t been an Ally sighting on this floor since she left Dalessandra’s office.
Ruth: You don’t think she’s dead in a ditch somewhere, do you? Did Malina finally snap?
Gola: ALLY, WHERE ARE YOU? DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE?
Ruth: I’ll check the stairwells.
Gola: I’ll check my old stomping grounds… AKA the 42nd
floor.
Ruth: Ally sighting report! Sources confirm she just took a desk in the graphics department!
Gola: Is she happy? Crying? Does she look like she’s being held against her will?
Ruth: Stand by for confirmation…
Ally: You guys! I lost my phone in my meager box of possessions that I’ve packed and unpacked four times since I started here. Everything is fine. I’ve been reassigned because…*going through a tunnel*
Gola: ?
Ruth: Don’t you do the fade away thing on us! We will hunt you down in Graphics and make you spill everything!
Ally: Hehe. I was just messing with you. Ladies, I’d like you two to be the first to know that Dominic Russo and I are…
Gola: Going to jail?
Ruth: Being fired for embezzlement?
Gola: Donating your paychecks to a worthy cause?
Ruth: Moving to Kentucky to start a bourbon distillery?
Ally: Dating.
Ally: OMG! Ruth, was that you screaming?
Ruth: Oops. You heard that? I got your text in the stairwell. It was more of a squeal.
Gola: Dominic just came out and asked me if I was okay because I choked on my green juice when I read your text. He almost tried to clear my airway. Then he told me I should probably start calling him Dominic.
Ruth: Now we really need to go for drinks tonight.
Gola: Drinks after dance? Count me in.
* * *
Dominic: I take it you told your girls?
Ally: I wanted to give Gola and Ruth a head’s up. Why?
Dominic: I nearly had to give Gola the Heimlich maneuver.
Ally: Did you by chance also hear a terrifying shriek in the stairwell? That was Ruth.
Dominic: Dominic and Ally, nearly killing friends with good news since today.
* * *
Harry: Been too long. Drinks. Tonight.
Dominic: Not sure. Got a lot going on.
Harry: I have two girls under four who just got into Mommy’s $200 lipstick and used it to draw on our fancy bed linens. I am the one with a lot going on.
Dominic: How fancy?
Harry: Something about organic silkworms and monks.
Dominic: Ouch.
Harry: So drinks. You’re coming.
Dominic: Maybe. What time? And can I bring someone?
Harry: If this someone identifies as female and your primary goal is to get/keep her in bed, I’ll bring Del. She can make sure this isn’t another Elena.
Dominic: Joke’s on you, loser. Del’s already met her.
Harry: Name?
Dominic: Ally.
Harry: Hold please.
Harry: Del says and I quote “I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. I KNEW HE WAS AFTER HER. Your wife is the smartest woman in the world. Suck it.”
Dominic: You two are what the annoying kids call #relationshipgoals.
Harry: Please tell me this woman isn’t under the age of 30 and that’s why you’re dusting off your pound signs. Because if I’m bringing my wife out and getting her too drunk to notice our murder duvet I don’t want to have to listen to her complain about grown men who insist on dating women young enough to be their daughters.
Dominic: She’s 39. That would have made me five years old when she was born.
Harry: Standing ovation gif. Wiping tears of gratitude gif.
Dominic: You know there are actual ways to send gifs instead of just explaining them.
Harry: Leave me alone. I’m old, and my kids are still too young to show me how to install a gif keyboard on my phone.
Dominic sent his standby middle finger selfie.
Harry: That’s the spirit.
* * *
To: Label NY Headquarters Staff
From: Dominic Russo
Subject: HR Policy 135 Sections B-D
Ally Morales and I have entered into a romantic relationship. To avoid any potential workplace favoritism or friction, Ms. Morales has been transferred to the graphics department. No questions or opinions will be entertained.
Sincerely,
Dominic Russo, Creative Director
* * *
Ally: Nice subject line, boss. Only one of my new coworkers opened the email so far. She spun around in her chair so fast, she knocked over an entire bowl of ramen.
Dominic: Good god. Not another poor person.
Ally: Not poor people ramen. Fancy ramen. It’s a whole thing now.
Dominic: Adding this to my list of things I wish I didn’t know.
Ally: You’re crotchety-ness is adorable.
Dominic: Let’s come back to my crotch, which is recovering nicely from its overuse. But first, can you go for drinks tonight after your dance class?
Ally: Yes. But only if you don’t mind going with Ruth and Gola. Uh-oh. Hang on. More spinning. And now some loud whispering. Did your email insinuate that I was deaf?
Dominic: My email insinuated that everyone should mind their own damn business and leave us the hell alone. I suppose your friends are fine if you don’t mind Harry and Delaney joining us.
Ally: Look at us doing the boyfriend-girlfriend thing. What’s next? Potluck suppers and coed baby showers?
Dominic: I am going to vehemently hope not. Oh, whatever you do don’t mention lipstick or bed linens to Delaney.
Ally: I don’t even want the context. This will be more fun.
Dominic: Let’s go out to lunch. I want to touch you without a few hundred people watching.
Ally: Count me in. They’re all staring at me and eating popcorn.
Dominic: Want me to come down there and give them something to stare at?
Ally: The part of me that saw you naked for twelve straight hours wants to say yes. But maybe we should at least give the HR guidelines a try for a full two hours before we ruin everything?
Dominic: Setting my timer for two hours and one minute.
* * *
Ally
I ducked down to the cafeteria for coffee and to get a break from the stares of my new coworkers.
I was just browsing the spectacular pyramid of pastries that I was absolutely not going to buy when a snide presence threw its evil shadow over me.
“Well, if it isn’t Dominic’s new toy,” Malina said snidely.
She was dressed in an ice blue pantsuit with a V neck that went almost to her belly button.
“Lovely as always to see you, Malina.” I sighed.
“How did you do it?”
“How did I do what?” I asked wearily. I should have stayed upstairs. At least the graphics department was too afraid to ask me any direct questions.
“How did you convince Dominic Russo to put his job on the line for you?” The emphasis made it clear that Malina didn’t think I was worth putting anything on the line.
“That’s personal. And this is work. I’m not discussing my personal relationship with you. Also, we’re not friends. At this point, I’d rather befriend Missie’s tarantula than you.” Copywriter Missie had a pet tarantula that she’d named Hercules.
“You think you have what it takes to keep a man like Dominic Russo?”
I actually had no idea what it would take and whether or not I had it.
“Did you ever have it checked?” I asked.
“What checked?”
“The thing that crawled up your skinny ass and died.”
“The weak never understand,” she scoffed.
“The weak?” I laughed. Seriously, someone had seen Mean Girls one too many times.
She looked me up and down. “The weak. The pathetic. The ones who show up where they don’t belong. You don’t belong on Christian James’s arm any more than you belong in Dominic Russo’s bed.”
“Who are you talking to, Mal? Me or you?” I shot back.
She bared her teeth at me. I realized the woman before me had years of practice in being a domineering bully. I shuddered when I thought of High School Prom Queen Malina.
“You think you’re so special,” she hissed.
/> “We’re all special,” I said, exasperated. “That’s the point. Me being special doesn’t make you less special. You being a douche to all of humanity factors in, though.”