Hating the Boss

by Kristen Granata

  Me: Point for me (note to self: delete dick pic)

  Me: Unless you want to see it. This way you know what you’re getting yourself into

  Raegan: That sounds like a warning … does that mean it’s really big or really small?

  Me: Guess you’ll have to ask me for it to find out

  Raegan: I think I’ll pass

  Raegan: But why don’t you call me so I can hear your voice instead?

  Shit. Now what? I could make an excuse but that would only work for so long. She’s right to ask to hear my voice with all the creepy dudes on the internet out there. What are the odds she’ll recognize me?

  Me: I’m visiting with family at the moment. What about tonight?

  Raegan: Tonight works. How’s 8:00?

  Me: It’s a date

  I tuck my phone under my clothes and head into the pool with Grandpa.

  You look happy, he signs.

  I smile and nod.

  Raegan’s not mad at you anymore I take it?

  Things are getting better, I sign. I’m going to ask her on a date soon.

  Grandpa lifts his eyebrows. Do you think she’ll say yes?

  I think so. I shrug.

  Guess I’ll find out tonight at eight.

  Leading up to the phone call with Raegan, I’m so nervous I don’t know what to do with myself.

  I’ve folded and put away all my laundry. I hand-washed the dishes in the sink instead of putting them in the dishwasher. I even Swiffered the floors. I needed to keep my hands busy.

  I twist the cap on a bottle of Jack Daniels and take a swig. I gargle before swallowing. Then I cough a few times. Maybe if my voice sounds raspy, Raegan won’t realize she’s talking to her boss.

  You might think this sounds crazy, but I can promise you, it’s nothing compared to how crazy I feel doing this.

  At 7:59 I hit the green call button.

  Raegan’s soft voice sounds in my ear after two rings. “You’re a minute early.”

  I chuckle. “I was excited to talk to you.”

  There’s a pause and I hold my breath, hoping my cover isn’t blown.

  “Well, you don’t sound like a purvy sixty-year-old man, so that’s a relief,” she says.

  “Were you really expecting that?”

  “I didn’t know what to expect. This is my first time with online dating.”

  “Same here.”

  “Were you worried I was going to be a sixty-year-old man too?”

  “I was hoping for it. I’ll be honest, I’m a little disappointed.”

  Raegan laughs. The melodic sound sends a shiver through my body. “Good thing you found out now and not on our first date.”

  “Already thinking about our first date?” I ask.

  “Isn’t that the whole point of this?”

  “It is. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

  “We seem to be on the same page with a lot of things. It’s almost like you read my profile and created yours based on my answers.”

  I swallow hard. “I could say the same thing about you.”

  “Touché. So tell me some more about yourself. Your profile says you like to spend time with family.”

  “Well, I’m very close with my parents. They’ve been happily married for over thirty years.”

  “Wow that’s great. Any siblings?”

  I pause, debating on what to tell her. I decide to go with the truth. “Yes. One brother.”

  “And are you guys close?”

  “We used to be.”

  “I’m sensing a story there,” she says. “What changed?”

  “He slept with the girl I was dating.”

  She gasps. “How long were you two dating?”

  “Three years. Two of which she was screwing around behind my back.”

  Her voice lowers. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. I’m sorry.”

  I shrug. “Everything happens for a reason, right?”

  “That’s what they say.”

  “Do you believe it?”

  “I don’t know what I believe. It’d be nice to think that everything happens the way it’s supposed to. That you’re led to the people you’re meant to be with. Maybe we are, and some people are only supposed to be life lessons instead of permanent fixtures.” She laughs softly. “I really sound divorced, don’t I?”

  “Nothing wrong with that. How long were you married?”

  “Seven years.”

  “Why did it end?”

  “He wasn’t who I thought he was.”

  “Who did you think he was?”

  “Someone I could count on. Someone who’d treat me the way I always dreamed I’d be treated by the man who loved me.”

  “The guy’s a dick.”

  She giggles. “You don’t even know him.”

  Yes, I do, and it only took two seconds to come to that conclusion. “He had you and he didn’t treat you right. It’s simple. The guy’s a dick.”

  “I won’t fight you on that. If it’s any consolation, your ex is a bitch.”

  I tilt my head back and laugh. “We’re a sorry pair.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  “What about your family?”

  “My parents were happily married too.”

  “Were?”

  “My dad passed away a few years ago. Now it’s just me and my mom.”

  “I’m sorry. How did he pass, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Heart attack. He was working outside in our backyard. He’d mowed the lawn and picked weeds. Then he came inside and just collapsed.” The line goes silent for a few seconds. “He went quickly and didn’t suffer. But we didn’t have time to say goodbye.”

  My chest tightens. I remember how sad she looked the day I found her crying in her grandmother’s room, and imagine her burying her father at such a young age. I want to wrap my arms around her and hold her again.

  “You still there?” she asks.

  “I’m here. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

  “All right, enough of this doom and gloom. Let’s talk about something less grim.”

  “Ready for my dick pic now?”

  She laughs. “Tell me about your job.”

  I’m about to tell her how much I love being a principal when I catch myself. “I’m, uh … an accountant.”

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  I think back to the times I’ve heard Josh talk about his job. “I like working with numbers. Helping people save and invest their money. It’s not as meaningful as your job though. That must be fun.”

  “It can be. It’s a tough job but I love what I do. I love working with kids.” She pauses. “We got a new principal at my school this year so that’s been interesting.”

  My stomach drops. “Man or woman?”

  “Man. It’s the first time we’ve had a male principal since I’ve been at my school.”

  “Do you like him?”

  “He’s good with the kids. They love him.”

  “And you?”

  She sighs. “I don’t know. He’s a little arrogant.”

  “Arrogant?” I choke out, trying to regain my composure. “How so?”

  “He has this way of ordering people around. He forced me into being the school’s mascot during an assembly once, and he signed me up for a voluntary dodgeball event. He’s kind of a bully.”

  I stifle a laugh. “That’s rough. The guy sounds like he’s on a power trip.”

  “You have no idea.”

  Oh, I do. “About that first date … how does next Friday night sound?”

  “I mean, I’ll try to fit you into my schedule.”

  “You can cancel with all the other Joshes. I’ll be the only one you need.”

  “You’re confident. Careful now. You’re starting to sound like my boss.”

  I sit up straight and clear my throat. “Uh, how does dinner at seven sound?”

  “Sounds good to me. Just text me the address of wherever we’re going and I’ll meet y
ou there.”

  “Will do. I’m excited to meet you, Raegan.”

  “Me too. Glad you’re not a sixty-year-old man.”

  I chuckle. “Same here.”

  She yawns. “I’m going to call it a night.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight, Josh.”

  I let out a breath and toss my phone onto the coffee table. That went better than expected.

  Let’s hope our date next week goes just as well.

  Days Left Until Summer Break: 119

  Raegan

  I haven’t seen much of Jaxon the week leading up to our date.

  I use the term date loosely. It’s more like we’re approaching the final round in Mortal Kombat. I’m about to finish his ass.

  I have been talking with “Josh” every chance I get. In fact, he calls me every night before I go to bed. We talk for hours, and I find myself forgetting who’s really on the other side of the phone. Our conversations are effortless. We laugh and flirt. When we hang up, I’m left with a false sense of hope. Why can’t Jaxon really be Josh? Or do I want Josh to really be Jaxon?

  Whatever. You get my point. This is confusing.

  But if Jaxon’s plan is to fuck with my head, then I’m going to need to fuck with his twice as bad. Tonight, I’m kicking my texting up a notch.

  Me: Hey. Whatcha doing?

  Jaxon: Cooking dinner. Thinking about you.

  Me: You cook?

  Jaxon: *picture*

  Me: That looks delicious. I love shrimp.

  Me: Take a selfie. Let me see you cooking.

  Jaxon: *picture*

  Me: Did you take your shirt off just for that picture? Or are you really cooking with no clothes on?

  Jaxon: No point in wearing clothes when I’m here alone.

  Me: Don’t burn yourself. Hot oil splatters.

  Jaxon: Let me get this straight. I send you a picture of my dinner and you tell me how delicious it looks. I send you a picture of my sexy body and all you can think about is cooking safety?

  Me: LOL good point. Let me try again …

  Me: Daaaaaammmmmmnnnnnn you look fine

  Jaxon: I feel like you’re being sarcastic but I’m going to pretend that you’re not

  Me: Totally not being sarcastic. I’ve looked at your abs 5 times since you sent it.

  Jaxon: Really?

  Jaxon: I mean, of course you did. *sunglasses emoji*

  Me: I guess it’s only fair that I send you a picture back

  Jaxon: YES. YES YOU SHOULD.

  Me: *picture*

  Jaxon: I’m not even sure what I’m looking at. Is that your ankle?

  Me: Sexy, right?

  Jaxon: Hottest ankle I’ve ever seen

  If I’m going to mess with Jaxon, I need to commit to this 100%. I stand in the middle of my bedroom and strip down to my bra and thong. He’s already seen me in a bathing suit, right?

  After inspecting myself from every angle in the mirror, I take a deep breath and proceed with the next phase in my plan.

  Me: I’m just kidding. This is what I really meant to send.

  Me: *picture*

  Two seconds after my half-naked selfie is delivered, my phone rings.

  “Hello?”

  “I can’t believe you just sent me that picture.”

  I giggle. “You sent me a half-naked picture, so I figured I should return the favor.”

  “I’m not complaining. I just didn’t expect that.”

  “Good. Now tell me what you thought of it before I start to get self-conscious.”

  “I think your body is perfect, Raegan. You’re sexy as hell.”

  I bite my bottom lip and close my eyes, digging deep for any extra courage that’s being stored inside me. “I wish you were here right now.”

  He pauses. “Where are you?”

  “In my bed.”

  I hear movement, like he’s shuffling around.

  “Josh, you there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just put my food to the side and came to my bedroom.”

  My plan is working. “What about dinner?”

  “My food can wait. All I can think about right now is you in your bed.”

  “Are you looking at my picture?”

  “I am.”

  “Tell me what you’d do if you were here.”

  Another long pause. He needs to know I’m serious. I have to give him a little nudge.

  “Josh, do you want me to start?”

  “Yes,” he rasps. “You start.”

  “I’m touching myself right now,” I lie. “I’m looking at your picture and pretending it’s your fingers that are sliding under my panties.”

  He groans. “How do you feel?”

  “Wet. Warm. I want you to touch yourself too, Josh.”

  “Already there, babe.” His voice is low and desperate sounding. I imagine how he looks, pumping himself in his hand, looking at my picture.

  “Good. Now tell me what you’d do if you were here.”

  “I’d peel those panties off and I’d taste you. I’d rub my tongue over your wet pussy, back and forth. Your hands would be in my hair, pulling me closer, holding me where you want me. Your legs wrapped around my neck, my tongue gliding over you nice and slow.”

  I swallow, sweat beading along my skin. I’m wondering if this is what he did when he went down on me the night he took me home, cursing myself for being too drunk to remember it. I’m so wrapped up in what he said, so turned on by the thought of his tongue on me. What started as a game has turned into incredibly hot phone sex, and I don’t want to stop. I might’ve been in control at the start of this, but Jaxon has taken the reigns now.

  My shaky hand trails down my body. Here goes nothing. “Then what?” I whisper.

  “Then I’d dip my fingers inside you while I swirl my tongue over your clit.”

  I push my fingers inside myself and circle my clit with my thumb, pretending it’s Jaxon who’s taking care of me. I let out a moan as my hips roll into my touch.

  “You’d beg for me to let you come, and when you do, you’d scream my name over and over again.” He exhales. “God, Raegan, I want to do that to you so badly.”

  “I want that too.”

  He groans again, and I nearly come undone at the sound. I have to stop Jaxon’s name from escaping my lips, yet it doesn’t feel right to use the fake name he gave me. I don’t want Josh. I don’t want anyone else.

  I want Jaxon.

  I want Jaxon kissing me. I want Jaxon touching me. I want Jaxon to make love to my body.

  My heart and mind race, each one pulling me in opposite directions.

  His deep voice cuts into my thoughts. “I want you to come for me, Raegan. I want to hear you.”

  This isn’t part of the game. It’s wrong. It makes no sense. But right now, I don’t care. Without another thought, I let go. I fall over the edge, and Jaxon comes with me. We’re moaning and panting, diving into ecstasy together.

  When it’s over, we’re quiet. I guess this is the phone sex version of cuddling.

  Realization sets in for the both of us. He’s pretending to be someone else, and I’m pretending I don’t know who he really is.

  “Raegan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “That was … that was … wow.”

  I smile. “I know.”

  “I can’t wait to see you Friday.”

  Me too, Jaxon. Me too.

  Jaxon

  Holy fuck, that just happened.

  Days Left Until Summer Break: 117

  Raegan

  “You do realize you’re not actually going on a date, right?” Becca asks.

  I chose to get ready at her place so she could help with my hair and make-up. “I want to look good when I burst Jaxon’s bubble. I’m catfishing a catfisher. Maybe I should’ve called Nev. I could be famous.”

  “I still can’t understand why he’d create a fake Match
account. You’re obviously going to find out it’s him when you go on this date. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “I can’t understand anything that man does.”

  “Are you going to hear him out first? Are you going to tell him you knew it was him this whole time? I wish I could be a fly on the wall.”

  “Want me to bring Mia’s walkie talkies?”

  Becca’s eyes widen. “Really?”

  “No.” I swipe my bottom lip with clear gloss and press my lips together. “Done. How do I look?”

  “He’s going to die when he sees you in that dress. You look amazing, Rae.”

  I treated myself to a new outfit for tonight: a tight, black, long-sleeve dress that stops just above mid-thigh, paired with black ankle boots. The dress is low-cut, but there’s a sheer overlay covering my chest. Cleavage with class. It was a little on the expensive side, but totally worth every penny. I need Jaxon to feel the magnitude of his mistake when he watches me walk away in this dress.

  Maybe I’ll finally get my slow-motion walking scene!

  I don’t have a plan going into this. I need to see how it unfolds. Hear what Jaxon has to say for himself before I make my move. My stomach twists in anticipation.

  Jaxon avoided me at work. He can’t bring himself to look me in the eye after our phone sex. I bet the guilt of pretending to be someone else is eating him alive.

  “You look nervous,” Becca says. “Maybe you should get there early and have a drink before the showdown.”

  In a poker match, the final round is referred to as the showdown. It’s when two players reveal their cards to see who’s holding the stronger hand.

  The analogy is fitting, because tonight, I’m going all in.

  I text “Josh” to let him know I’ve arrived. Then I order a shot of whiskey and down it.

  I’m sitting at the bar, waiting. I have the perfect view of the front door from the reflection in the mirror behind the bar. At five-to-seven, Jaxon waltzes in.

  My stomach clenches. He’s in an olive-green V-neck sweater. The color compliments his skin tone, making him look all the more tall, dark, and handsome. His hair is messier than it usually is at work, more like it was when he kissed me at Shoprite.