Boss I Love To Hate

by Kayla, Mia

  The blonde attendant hid a smile, and her cheeks turned pink.

  “Come out. One. Two …”

  Before three, Sonia emerged. My eyes widened. Well, well, well. That was an interesting dress—fluffy and full, and it reminded me of a comforter. I nearly scoffed out a rude comment but thought better of it.

  Sonia was picking the dresses that my dead grandma would wear. If she wanted to outdo this new girlfriend, she needed to step it up a notch. Though the dress did accentuate her small waist, it flared out into a ballgown that looked like she was about to jump off a plane and engage the skirt as a parachute.

  She trudged toward me, arms crossed over her chest, lips pouty, and eyes screaming revenge. She reminded me of a pissed off Mary, and I had the sudden urge to laugh, but I covered my mouth instead. I wasn’t about to push my luck. Knowing Sonia, she’d deck me.

  She pulled at the dress and twirled, the black-and-white floral skirt flaring out and contouring her body when she stilled.

  It wasn’t as though she wasn’t attractive because Sonia was beautiful, and there was no doubt I’d give her a second glance, but everyone needed to give her a first glance. It was as if Sonia was trying to dim her beauty and hide her slim runner’s body under that giant skirt.

  I stood and pointed to the pedestal. “Up.” I tipped my head toward the circular stand.

  She groaned but followed directions, to my surprise.

  “What’s wrong with it?” She placed her hands on her hips, ready for battle.

  Boy, was that the question of the year. I could make a full-page list, but I knew her response would be merciless.

  “It hides your figure.”

  She frowned. “I don’t have a figure—unless beanpole is a classification.”

  I couldn’t hide my frown. What in the world is this woman talking about?

  How was it she had a bucket full of sass and was confident in her abilities at work, but she lacked confidence in her looks? She was petite and the kind of cute that would be the envy of the majority of the female population, a pouty bottom lip that could model, and the loveliest set of eyes I’d ever seen on anyone.

  “It’s not the dress for you. I don’t like it.”

  Sonia could do better if she wanted to stick out and shine, but I doubted that was her goal. She was bringing me as a date to do that job for her. Well, I was going to use this as an opportunity to show her how she could shine all on her own.

  “This flares at the waist.” She swiveled, forcing the skirt to fan out. “I thought it’d give me some curves.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  She pursed her lips and then threw up her hands. “I’m not trying on a thousand dresses just to have you reject them all.” She pointed a shaky finger my way, one hand heavy on her hip—a Mary move. “And who says you get a say? My friend’s wedding. My body. I get to pick the dress.” Then, she stormed back into the fitting room.

  “You always know how to get the girls riled up, don’t you, Brad?” Nadine laughed.

  “It’s what I’m good at.” I pointed to a dress on the rack. “How about that?”

  Nadine picked up the silvery-blue floor-length dress that I’d pointed out. I tipped my chin toward Sonia’s fitting room. Anything was better than the number she had on now.

  “I have one that I think you’ll love, Sonia. One that I picked out personally for you.” Nadine threw me a sideways glance.

  That was why I’d hired her; she knew how to read people, what they wanted, how to appease without offending. If Sonia knew I had picked the dress, she wouldn’t have tried it on.

  A long five minutes later, I lifted my head from my phone as Sonia stepped out of the dressing room. Well, shit. On the hanger, it had been mediocre at best, but on Sonia …

  I stood and went to slip my phone in my suit pocket, but it fell on the ground. She was stunning. The dress accented her petite figure, clinging to every part of her. The neckline swooped down to an achingly low level that had my eyes dipping to the slender curve of her neck, the span of pale bare skin right above her breast line.

  I swallowed. Hard.

  “And?” She twirled around, and I nearly fell over because the back of the dress dipped into a V, stopping right above her perfect ass.

  “It’s beautiful, right, Brad?” Nadine sported a victorious smile.

  “I’m not sure it’s me.” Sonia flattened her hands against the dress and stared back in the mirror.

  I had no words. The cat had taken my tongue and swallowed it or fed it to the mice. Shit if I knew.

  “Well?” She lifted an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

  I snapped back to attention, reminding myself that I couldn’t look at my secretary in that way. I wasn’t allowed to want her. My brothers would kill me.

  “That … that’s the dress.” My voice was hoarse, unlike my confident demeanor.

  I averted my stare and bent down to pick up my phone to hide these weird emotions.

  She’s your secretary. Damn it. Get it together.

  Chapter 9

  Sonia

  As the week flew by, I could hardly believe the wedding was a day away. When I had asked Brad to the rehearsal dinner, he’d been more than up for it, not like he had a choice because it was part of the deal. I had to introduce my pretend boyfriend to a good core of my friends that would be in attendance on the big day so the wedding day would be less awkward if that was even possible.

  I placed my Toyota Camry in park in front of Brad’s palatial home and stepped out of the car. I didn’t think I would ever get used to the amount of luxury that surrounded the Brisken family. Lights highlighted the pillars of the mansion that framed the door, and the window-height shrubbery that was etched against the building were like lines against a painting.

  I walked into the house, and Sarah greeted me. Her Beats by Dre hung around her neck, and her eyes lit up before she leaned in and gave me a hug.

  “Sonia!” Mary shouted from down the hall, rushing toward me.

  I scooped her up—an automatic reaction—and held her close. “Goodness.” I laughed. “What a greeting. I think I should come over more often.”

  “You should! You should!” Mary twirled her fingers around my simple silver necklace.

  The last time I’d seen the girls was when I picked them up from school weeks ago. Was it weird to say I’d missed them?

  “Why don’t you come to visit?” Mary asked, pushing out her bottom lip. “I want to play Life again. I’m better now. I’ve mastered the roll where I twist my fingers and can control what numbers I want to get.”

  “Yeah, I vote for game night soon,” Sarah added.

  Brad walked into the room in jeans and a dark gray Henley. His hair was shorter. He must have gotten a haircut after work.

  I stared for a second, feeling out of sorts. I didn’t think I’d ever seen Brad in jeans. They were dark-washed and not overly tight but tight enough where I could tell he had definition in his thighs.

  “What about game night?” Brad asked, giving me a once-over.

  Why did it feel like Brad had been judging my choice in clothing lately? I wiped a sweaty, self-conscious hand down my knee-length jean skirt.

  Every time I turned toward him when I walked into his office or any room, I always felt like he was watching me. Too closely.

  “Sonia promised me another game night.” Mary wrapped both arms around my neck, bringing herself closer and flashing me a you can’t say no to me smile.

  No wonder Brad fell for her antics. I doubted anyone could avoid the cuteness overload of this little blonde. Guys everywhere would be goners in the future. Talk about Heartbreak Hotel.

  I cleared my throat, not waiting for Brad to respond. “We’ll talk about it, okay?”

  As I held Mary in my arms and with Sarah glued to my side, I could easily see that lines were getting more blurred by the day. Somewhere between me getting Sarah pads, Brad agreeing to go to this wedding, us shopping and having lunch daily, we’d
gone from coworkers to oddly being almost friends.

  Mary kissed my cheek. “Please? Pretty, pretty please with cherries on top? Game night. Game night!” She clapped her little hands to match her game-night chorus.

  Brad chuckled. “Say yes now, or she’ll up the cuteness.”

  I threw him a help me look, but he simply shrugged as if to say arguing was pointless.

  “Okay.” I gently dropped Mary on her feet and touched her nose. “I’ll come over. Maybe I can babysit sometime, and we’ll play.”

  “Wait a minute here,” Brad gasped loudly, feigning offense. “Don’t count me out. I’m the king of board games.”

  I gulped. The song “Blurred Lines” played in my head. Yes, we were definitely friends now if we were playing board games.

  Letting it go, I suggested we leave, so we said our good-byes to the girls and headed to my car. The rehearsal dinner was going to start at the church and end at a pizza joint. It was to be casual, so I wore a light-blue satin shirt, knee-length jean skirt, and boots, which, if I wasn’t mistaken, Brad kept staring at.

  I glanced down at my watch, noting that we were running a few minutes behind schedule. “We’ll have to hurry.”

  “I’m going to drive. My car.” Brad turned toward the garage when I gripped his forearm to stop him.

  “Uh, no. That wasn’t the deal. You agreed that I’d drive.” My back straightened, and the beginning of annoyance seeped into my skin.

  “That’s before I reevaluated your vehicle situation,” he rudely added. “Your car’s not safe.”

  This guy!

  Didn’t he realize I drove the girls to school in this car?

  Forced friends—that was what we were because I could guarantee that I wouldn’t be friends by choice with this stuck-up, designer-wearing automobile snob. I wanted to put a mute button on him that I could control with a remote.

  “Why is it that you like to constantly annoy me?” I glanced down at my 2010 Camry. “It’s a perfectly well-working vehicle, and we’ve discussed this. I’m driving. Now, get in the car!”

  If he didn’t get in the car in the next minute, we would definitely be late. I glanced back at the house to make sure that no windows were open, and the girls weren’t accidentally learning new words.

  “Calm your panties. Fine.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Compromise. Give me the keys.”

  I gritted my teeth and slapped them in his hand because there was no time to argue. I hoped this was the right choice, taking him to meet my friends and then tomorrow when Jeff and my replacement would show up. I hoped it was worth all this because he was killing me softly and slowly with irritation.

  “You’d better be worth all this trouble,” I muttered as I slipped in the car.

  “Don’t worry, baby. I’m a sure thing.” He winked, and I wanted to slap him.

  “I’m surprised none of your girlfriends has killed you in your sleep yet.” I shot him a look. “Because you’re so annoying!”

  Forty minutes later, we were in front of the church. The light was shining overhead as the sun set in front of us in an array of pinks and purples that highlighted the sky. It was as if the universe was showering down its blessings on Carrie and Tim, but it still couldn’t ease the tightness in my chest.

  When he stepped out of the car, Brad reached for my hand. It was the first time our hands had ever met intimately, a fusion of fingers. “I promise not to annoy you for the rest of the night if you promise to relax.”

  “Relax? What’s that?” I laughed without humor. My muscles were tense, the veins on my neck strained. Soon enough, a full-on migraine would attack.

  I’d never lied this big before. Tiny little lies, sure. White little lies that didn’t hurt anyone, I was okay with that. But this—pretending Brad and I were romantically involved—was different.

  “Yes, just relax. Close your eyes and breathe.” Brad stopped walking and pulled me in front of him, our hands intertwined.

  I closed my eyes but still could not calm my nerves.

  His thumb slowly made circles on the top of my wrist. “You’re going to be fine.”

  I hoped and wished and prayed that was true. I took three full, calming breaths through my nose and out my mouth, and soon enough, the warmth of the sunlight on my face and the comfort of his hold eased me. “I don’t even know why I’m going through all this trouble.” That was another lie. I knew why … because looks mattered, and I didn’t want to look like the loser I really was. “Everyone is engaged or married or in a serious relationship. I think I’m the only one in my friend group that isn’t. And, now, Jeff is going to be there with her.”

  “So?”

  “So?” My eyes flew open, and I openly gaped at him.

  “I mean, why does it matter, Sonia? Who cares?”

  “I care.” Every muscle in my neck tensed, and I gripped my dress within my fingertips. “Are all your friends married or in a serious relationship? They have to be if you’re thirty-three.”

  “Yes, most.” His tone was even, unbothered, unfazed.

  And I was jealous. I wanted to not care because then this would be easier, and I wouldn’t need to pretend and lie and bring Brad to this wedding.

  He peered at the church, noting the people already walking inside. “One of them is even divorced, but I don’t care. Because that’s them, and this is me. Why should what’s happening in their lives have an effect on mine?” And this was Brad in all his blunt honesty.

  My shoulders slouched, and my stomach churned. Why couldn’t I force myself to not care? Why couldn’t I be stronger when it came to this? “I wish I had your confidence.”

  He tipped up my chin with the lightness of his fingertip, his other hand wrapped around mine. “I wasn’t always this confident.”

  I tilted my head and looked at him. Really looked at him. I couldn’t picture it. Brad not confident would be like throwing the world off its axis. He radiated confidence, merely standing there and doing nothing.

  “Really?”

  “I know it’s hard to believe, but, yes, really.”

  His fingers played lightly with mine, and I ignored the butterflies caused by the warmth of his touch. Must be nerves.

  “My parents were always telling me how good I was, smart, handsome, but somehow, I would always compare myself to Charles or Mason, and in my head, I never seemed to measure up.” His face turned wistful. “Mason was the younger one, the cuter one, the spoiled one. Charles was the boss, the leader of the family, the brother in charge. I never knew where I fit in.”

  He’d never talked about his parents before, and a little part of me ached to know more. More about his parents and what made up my boss’s DNA. Weirdly enough, before, I didn’t care, but now that I had a glimpse of his life, I realized I had placed him in this asshole box, one that maybe he didn’t deserve.

  “So, what happened? What was the switch?” Because I needed an internal switch, one where I didn’t care where others were in their lives. I wanted to be content with my own.

  He stared at me for a second, and his smile slipped. “A succession of things. I think I just grew up, but ultimately, when my parents died, I didn’t care about anything else—what others thought of me, their accomplishments, or how I measured up. I think I wanted to remember how my parents had looked at me, and all else didn’t matter.”

  I reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. Sorry you lost them so young.” Full emotion hit me as I remembered the loss of his parents. It only reminded me of how lucky I was to have a great relationship with my own parents.

  He nodded and released a heavy sigh. He seemed lost for a moment, in his thoughts of his past, of his parents, his face wistful. “Yeah. Me, too. I miss them. Sometimes, I try to block it out, but there are big moments that I know they’ll never see, and it makes me feel their loss even more.” His stare turned distant. “If they could’ve only seen how Sarah and Mary have grown.” His eyes dropped to where we were connected. “Or see Charles get m
arried or me one day.” His voice trailed off, and the quiet spanned the space between us, in the open air, when people passed us by to get to the church.

  The whole world disappeared, and there was just us.

  A moment later, he shook his head. That vulnerability that I had just witnessed disappeared and that cocky smile was back. “But my parents never did like Mason’s girlfriend, even in college. They never said it to his face, but they would let things slip to let me know that they never liked her.”

  “Protective brotherly type, I see.” I leaned in, playful.

  “He just deserves more, and I know he can do better.” His gaze dropped back to our intertwined fingers, and he gave it a cheerful little shake. “Feel better?”

  I nodded. He’d diverted my crazy, worrying thoughts for a moment. My tiny reprieve from all this chaos happening in my head.

  “Let’s go meet your friends,” he suggested, tipping his chin toward the steps to the church.

  Before I could think further, he was pulling me toward our destination.

  As soon as we entered the doors, Carrie lifted her head, and her smile was blinding. She rushed over to me and encased me within her arms in a bear hug that could rival my grandma’s. “Sonia! I’m so happy you’re here.”

  I patted her back, and all annoyance of the Jeff-and-Replacement thing eased.

  “I’m so sorry. You’re so right,” she whispered against my shoulder, hugging me tighter. “If I could disinvite his ass, I would.”

  “It’s fine.” It wasn’t totally fine, just a little fine now. “I’m not going to let a boy destroy years of friendship.”

  Because our friendship transcended boys and drama and gossip. It had been here before Jeff and I were even together and would outlast any other major catastrophe in my life. Good friends were hard to come by, and Ava and Carrie were the best kinds of friends. I hadn’t been feeling it the other day, feeling betrayed by the sting of her inviting Jeff and disregarding my broken heart, but this here, this wedding, went beyond Jeff and my breakup. Because years from now, I hoped that Jeff would just be a memory, and I knew that Carrie and I would still be friends.