Bossed

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Bossed Page 7

by Sloane Howell


  “You ask her out yet like I told you?”

  “Nope. Can’t do it.”

  “Well, she’s turning you into a miserable homebody. Just so you know.”

  He was so full of shit. I still did all the same things I usually did. Sure, I hadn’t done them as much, but I still went out to dinners, the bar, played Xbox. “Is not.” It was the best I could come up with. Maybe, just maybe, he was right. But I didn’t like to be wrong, so I wasn’t about to admit it.

  He laughed. I needed to change the subject. Fuck it. I grabbed for my phone and shot Jenny a text.

  I need you for a client meeting. Tomorrow evening. Dinner. 7:30 p.m. Can you make it?

  “I asked her out. Happy?” I glared. I was lying again.

  “Just like that. In a text?” He sighed. “Laaaame.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say here.” I turned my gaze to the wall.

  Jenny hadn’t returned my text and Matt’s face moved from joking to frustration to something else I couldn’t pinpoint. He was rarely serious unless he was on a ballfield, which was when most of the country saw him. I was fortunate enough to get the fun side of his personality. But he was morphing into Ballfield Matt right in front of me.

  “What?” I turned to him and held both palms out, as if to say, What the fuck do you want from me?

  “It’s not about the girl, man. I mean, I hate to see you pass up a shot at something great. But you’ve put these walls up everywhere. It blocks everyone.”

  “So you’re a psychologist now?” I tried to bite back my words but it was too late. It was a habit. Anytime someone struck, I struck harder. Maybe he was right. Maybe I had walled myself off. Maybe Jenny was threatening to crash through them like the Kool-Aid Man, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. Maybe I was afraid of what would happen. I was safe where I was.

  Matt didn’t appear angry at my words. It was worse. He looked disappointed.

  I took a step toward him. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, okay? You know what happened.”

  “Yeah, yeah, Ethan, I know all about your philosophies on business.” He did the air quotes when he said “philosophies” and rolled his eyes.

  I hated when people did air quotes, but I let it slide because I’d just been a prick to my best friend for no reason.

  “Your dad got involved with a woman at work. He married her. They had you. She left you both and his business was liquidated in the divorce. He never recovered. Yeah, I know the goddamn story, man.”

  I looked down at my hands. They’d balled into tight fists. Veins and tendons popped from the surface. Lava coursed through my bloodstream. He said the sentences so casually and blasé. As if someone could just brush that shit off. Like I hadn’t lived every goddamn second of it and watched my father slowly erode at the hands of the woman I refused to acknowledge was my mother.

  I didn’t want to lash out at my best friend. So I didn’t speak.

  “I’m sorry, Ethan. But I had to say that. I know I’m not you. I didn’t live through all of that. I’m sure that’s what you’re thinking.” He took a step toward me. A big step because he was a big motherfucker. “Bro, if you listen to anything I’ve ever told you, it’s this—you’re not your dad. I’m not saying your dad sucked at business or whatever. I’m saying that I know you. You’re good at what you do. And dating a woman you work with isn’t going to change the fact that you’re good at what you do.”

  I shook my head, my face tense. “I don’t like change. I’m safe where I am right now.”

  “Safe is fucking boring, bro. When do you feel most alive? When you’re negotiating in a room and you don’t know what cards the other fucker is holding. And you take a calculated risk and nail him to the wall. But there is a risk. And that’s what makes it awesome.”

  “You should be a motivational speaker. I’m going to get you a fucking publicist.”

  He smiled but then his eyes narrowed again. “I’m serious. A lot of people actually have fun and get work done. I was out at Google for some corporate shit and they have these sleep pods where employees take a nap.”

  I canted my head slightly. “Say what?” I drew out my syllables in a playful way.

  “It’s true. And you’re my fucking agent, so I want one of them next to my locker when I sign the next contract. I need my rest.”

  “Done.” We laughed and did the whole handshake-that-turns-into-a-half-hug thing. My phone buzzed on the weight bench where I’d set it down.

  Jenny: Yes, I can be there.

  “Date confirmed.” Why couldn’t I just tell my friend I didn’t have the balls to ask her out earlier? I had them now, but it was too late. I’d already set up this client meeting that didn’t exist. It would just have to be a surprise date.

  Me: Great. It’s a classy place. You’ll want to dress up. I’ll get the rest of the details to you tomorrow at work, along with the valuation I need you to work up.

  “Good for you. It’ll be okay, I promise. You’re allowed to like a girl.” He smacked me one more time on the shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

  Anxiety ripped through my stomach.

  Yeah, good for me.

  Chapter 11

  Jenny Jackson

  A million sounds swirled all around me, the most noticeable my heels clacking on the sidewalk. Downtown was a completely different place at night, and I rarely experienced it. People walked casually, no one in a hurry to get to their next client meeting, and the streets held far less traffic.

  I spotted the restaurant Ethan had told me to meet him at up the road about a block. I clutched the folder with my analysis to my chest and strode toward it. It was the first project I’d been given that was baseball-related. Seeing as it was last-minute notice, I’d busted my ass on it the whole day, until I was satisfied.

  I tilted my head up to the night sky. The air smelled like fresh rain from a short-lived thunderstorm, and everything felt new and alive downtown in the later hours. Lights sparkled off the shiny buildings that jutted into the night sky.

  A host greeted me outside the entrance when I finally made my way to the place. The menu was displayed in a frame covered in thick glass on the brick wall, and the smiling woman opened the giant glass door. It wasn’t too packed when I walked inside. Ethan had told me it was a nice place and that I should dress up.

  Kelsey and I had spent an hour going through my closet while she scolded me about my wardrobe. This is nothing but schoolteacher and baseball clothes, she’d said. Finally, she’d picked out a skimpy (in my opinion) black dress that I’d worn to a charity event with my last boyfriend years ago. I’d forgotten all about it.

  It had thin straps that crisscrossed up my back and a V-cut in the front, showing off a little more skin than I was usually comfortable with. Kelsey said it was smoking. I wasn’t so sure.

  I raised up onto my toes and peered around at the white linen-covered tables that were arranged in an undecipherable pattern, searching for Ethan. My fingers trembled around the folder holding all of my work inside, and a hint of anxiety crept into my stomach. Did I have everything he needed? Was it good enough? What if he yelled at me like he did everyone else?

  I couldn’t afford to lose my job now. A young man, maybe early twenties, walked toward me from the host stand. He wore a white buttoned-down shirt and tie, standard uniform for an Italian restaurant employee. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

  “I’m just—” I spotted a sparkling set of white teeth and then Ethan’s face.

  My heart rate clicked up a notch. He was gorgeous, dressed in a perfectly cut suit with a narrow black tie. Jesus.

  “Ma’am?” The host stared at me, wide-eyed, while I breathed in Ethan.

  Snapping out of my daze, I turned to the host. “Huh? W-what?”

  He laughed. “Do you need some help?”

  Ethan started toward me and the room began to spin. How did he steal the air from my lungs like this? How did he render me incapable of forming coher
ent thoughts?

  “No, no. I see my party.”

  “Very good, ma’am.” The host smiled and turned back around toward the podium.

  “Wow.” Ethan stopped about five feet away and looked me up and down from head to toe. More than once.

  I was certain I would melt into the floor from the heat in his eyes. He licked his lips and a devilish grin formed on his face. I was a goner. I was sure of it.

  “You look—just—you look beautiful.”

  I glanced away, as if it could stop him from seeing me blush. It was impossible, seeing as his eyes were glued to me like a lion hunting a gazelle.

  “Thank you.” The words came out more like a soft whisper. After several more moments of intense staring, my brain decided it would function again. I held out the folder. “I have the numbers you asked for.”

  He finally released me from the stranglehold of his stare, and his gaze dropped to the floor. Ethan’s hands went into his pockets, and he looked back up at me. “About that…”

  Sometimes it seemed like I could sense when someone was about to disappoint me; it was like a feeling of impending doom would squeeze my heart. This was one of those moments. The heat in my veins started to cool, and I didn’t know if I could take what he was about to say. Something about his attitude threw up every red flag in my brain.

  “What is it? You don’t need the numbers anymore?” I knew these types of things could happen sometimes. Plans were often altered or schedules rearranged.

  Ethan walked over and took me gently by the forearm. His thumb brushed back and forth along my skin and sent tiny goosebumps rippling up the backs of my arms. His touch manipulated my emotions. A warmth rushed back through me and straight between my legs. My eyes fluttered and when I opened them he was still staring down at the floor.

  “It’s complicated,” he mumbled.

  What did that mean?

  “I’m a pretty sharp girl, I think I can figure it out. What are you not telling me?”

  He released my arm and I wanted his hand back on me. I wanted him touching me everywhere, all at once. My body needed it but my brain was sick of all the games and secrets.

  His head tilted up and I finally got an up-close glimpse of his warm brown eyes, the same eyes that owned me the first day we met. “There wasn’t a meeting.”

  There it was. Finally, the truth. I took a step back and glared. “What do you mean there wasn’t a meeting?” My nails dug into the folder.

  “I made up the meeting because I wanted to have dinner with you.”

  My breath halted and my brain decided to close up shop for a moment. My first reaction was to smile because he wanted to take me to dinner. Then I thought about all the work I’d done all day long, for nothing. I’d planned on hanging out with Kelsey tonight and canceled on her last minute because of this. She still came over to help me pick out an outfit. Blood rushed into my face and my jaw clenched tight. “You made this up?”

  He held both hands up, his palms facing me. “I’m sorry. Maybe we can just sit—”

  I shook my head, trying not to say something that might get me fired on the spot. “I busted my ass on this report for you. I wanted it to be perfect.” I looked away, hoping if I didn’t see his pretty-boy face that I’d be able to think clearly. It didn’t work. My stomach grumbled when a waiter walked by with fresh breadsticks and a plate of fettuccini Alfredo.

  “Jenny, please, just come—”

  I shoved the folder into his chest. “Go to hell.”

  I turned on my heels and bolted for the door. Once outside on the pavement I inhaled a huge breath of air and whipped my head back and forth on a swivel. I glanced down at my dress and all I could think about was how much time I’d spent getting ready for his fake meeting. What the hell did he mean he just wanted to spend time with me? How was I supposed to take that? Why not just say it?

  I couldn’t take the lying, the manipulation. Too much shit was going on in my life and I didn’t have time for someone to mess with my head and my emotions like this.

  My natural reaction was anger because my time away from work was precious to me and the gorgeous asshole in a suit had stolen some of it from me. I took off down the sidewalk, weaving between pedestrians, heading the opposition direction of where I’d parked.

  I was in no mood to drive anywhere. Alone. That’s what I wanted. To be left alone for a bit. A break from reality.

  Halfway up the block the buildings ended. It was where the river ran through the city and I’d seen a park near there in the past that led down to the water. Bikers and joggers always used it during the day and it had a path that ran along the water.

  I took off in that direction and cut across the street when there was a break between the cars. A blister started to form from the nice black pumps I’d pulled from the top of my closet that weren’t ever fully broken in. “Fuck you, Ethan.” I cursed his name under my breath for that blister. For everything.

  When I got to the riverbank I folded my arms across my chest and stared out at the water, hoping it would cool down the rage washing over me. The moon sparkled over the surface of the water like someone had skipped a million tiny diamonds across it.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice. Behind me.

  Everything rushed back to the surface and I whipped around to lay into him again, but the words couldn’t form in my mouth. He stood there, huffing and puffing like he’d just sprinted a four-minute mile.

  He chased after me?

  I wanted to smile at the thought of him running after me, but still, nothing made sense. He wasn’t being logical. I wasn’t about to let him off the hook either, not after putting me through the emotional wringer and playing stupid games with my head.

  “What do you want?”

  “You can’t just run off into the dark city like that. It isn’t safe.”

  “Cut the shit, Ethan. I’m not an idiot. Your deflections get you nowhere here.”

  A grin started to form on his lips, but when my face tightened it disappeared.

  “I’m sorry, okay.” He looked up at the stars and then back down to me. “Matt was giving me shit about you. So I sent the text and—” He pulled at the tie on his neck.

  Whatever this was about, it had embarrassed him because his face was bright pink. Not in an angry way. More like humiliation mixed with a side of frustration. He was vulnerable and seemed to hate that fact.

  “I don’t give a shit what you two assholes do on your own time. I had plans tonight. My friend had plans. I couldn’t hang out with my dad either because of this ‘meeting.’ ”

  “Jesus, I said I was sorry.” He paced back and forth, looked at me, then looked away and raked his hand through his hair and pulled on it before letting go. “What the hell are you doing to me, Jenny?”

  It was sort of cute, but I pushed that thought aside and gasped. Like this was my fault. “Well, I don’t know, Ethan! You’re too much of a pussy to spit it out.”

  He froze and turned to me, his eyes wide, the moonlight glinting off them. They narrowed and he stalked toward me. “You want to know?”

  My heart was a jackhammer on my ribs, in my ears. A nod was the best I could give him with the way he stared, looking like he wanted to devour every inch of me.

  Fuck.

  He got closer.

  My knees struggled to hold me upright.

  “I wanted a date with you.”

  Closer.

  What was he doing?

  Shit.

  “I wanted you.”

  Gravel. His voice was gravel.

  Two steps away.

  Eyes. Hair.

  Jesus.

  “To myself. Alone.”

  His palms clutched my cheeks. I started to speak and his mouth was on mine, catching everything I had to say until my voice gave. His hands snaked through my hair, and every synapse in my body fired in tandem, nerves skittering through my body like the moonlight on the water.

  He pummeled through my apprehension with his
hard kiss, practically demanding reciprocation on my part. I melted into his body. Weeks of frustration, attraction, tension—all of it rushed between my legs and swirled in my clit. His velvet tongue snaked and danced across mine and his hands ran down to my ass, cupping each cheek and squeezing. I moaned into his mouth and my back arched, grinding me up against his hard cock in his dress slacks.

  He groaned and bit my lip, digging the tips of his fingers into my hips hard enough to leave marks.

  “Is that what you wanted?” I whispered into his ear.

  He nodded against my neck as he sucked my throat. I gripped his head with both hands, dragging my nails through his scalp, wanting to push his head down to where I needed it. I didn’t care who was there, or who was watching. I wanted his mouth on me, and I never wanted it to leave.

  He cupped a hand over my breast, rolling my hard nipple between his index finger and thumb through the thin fabric of my dress. I gasped. “Fu—” The half word barely trickled from my lips, replaced with a breathy exhale.

  His mouth was hot and heavy in my ear. “I want you in my bed. Now.”

  He yanked me up from my feet and I wrapped my legs around him, my dress riding way farther up my ass than what I’d usually be comfortable with in public. I didn’t give a shit though. His mouth was on mine the whole way through the park. Where he was taking me, I didn’t know. Didn’t care either. I ground my hips against him, crossing my legs at the ankles and squeezing him with the insides of my thighs, kissing him furiously, in desperate need of release. He had me and he knew it.

  The sound of engines roaring grew louder in my ears, and he shoved me into the backseat of a car. He was on top of me in a millisecond. His hands were everywhere, trying to touch every inch of me at once.

  “My place.” His voice was a growl.

  It confused me for a second until I heard, “Yes, sir.”

  I looked up and a little motorized window went up between the front and back seats. I thought those only existed in cars in the movies. “Seriously? You have a fucking driver?”

 

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