The Boss(hole)

by Bloom, Penelope

  5

  Juliette

  I had the good fortune of starting work for Coleton Publishing on a Friday. I woke up the following Saturday morning with the full intentions of recovering from the mental whiplash I’d just gone through.

  When I checked my email, I had a barrage of forwarded emails from Maxi. She’d followed through and reached out to a shocking number of businesses in the city and written a scathing account of how horrible an employee I was. I blocked her email after reading a handful, then deleted all of her messages.

  If I was a spiteful person, I would’ve emailed the Better Business Bureau and lodged a storm of complaints about the various things I’d seen at her company. Would it be petty? Yes. Was I still going to do it? Hell yes.

  By the time I finished, it was past lunch, and I was starving. My first paycheck wasn’t due for two weeks from Coleton, but it felt different to know the money was coming. I didn’t need to wonder how I was going to stretch my meager savings for months or years. I only had to make it last two weeks.

  To celebrate, I called the only real friend I’d made since running away from my family in New York. I was going to celebrate with a little lunch that didn’t come in a box, a can, or have microwave instructions.

  Anastasia met me at a place near both our apartments that sold some of the most amazing soups. We took a booth in the corner and sat down with our soups. I’d gone with broccoli and cheddar, and she got the southwest. I had a terrible habit of always wishing I’d ordered what other people ordered, and I found myself watching her soup longingly as we both blew on ours and waited for them to cool off.

  I’d only met Anastasia four months ago, but she already knew me well. She grinned, and reached to swap our soups, sliding her southwest in front of me. “I had a feeling you were going to want mine,” she said.

  I laughed. “You’re sure?”

  She took a bite of my soup and nodded. Anastasia was a former employee at Maxi Interior Designs. She kept her hair buzzed short and soft. She dyed it a new color every few weeks and she had a rotating assortment of piercings from the several she jammed into her ears to the ones on her nostrils and eyebrows. She’d been in human resources, and I’d met her during the hiring process. We both hit it off and stayed in touch, even after she quit two months ago.

  Part of me wondered if I’d been drawn to her because she was the antithesis of everything Coleton. But I didn’t like thinking of it that way. She was fun to talk to, real, and she made me laugh. I didn’t want to think it had to be some sort of manipulation. I’d even gone as far as telling her the truth about who I was once she quit, which made her the only person who knew my secret.

  Anastasia wanted every detail of how me quitting had gone. But she’d stopped me as soon as I mentioned Mr. White.

  “This ‘Mr. White’ guy… Is he old and crusty?”

  “No? Why?”

  Anastasia took a bite of her soup, then folded her arms. “So how hot is he?”

  “What kind of question is that? Who says he’s hot?”

  “You aren’t calling him by his first name. Either he’s really old or you’ve got the hots for him.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I said. “There could be a million reasons. Like the fact that he prefers to be called Mr. White.”

  Anastasia was seeing straight through me. I could read it all over her face. “And you’re so dick whipped by him that you’re obeying his rules even off the clock?”

  I cleared my throat. “Adrian is fine,” I said. I’d meant it as a general neutral descriptor. Like it was ‘fine’ if a friend needed to cancel on their plans for the night.

  Anastasia snorted.

  “Okay,” I said. “He’s attractive. But he’s insufferable. So it’s a moot point. I didn’t want to say anything because I had a feeling you were going to start looking at me like that,” I said, jabbing my finger at her.

  “I have no judgment. If you want to play snake charmer with Mr. White’s anaconda, I’ll cheer you on.”

  I pressed my palm to my forehead, trying not to fight back a smile. “The truth is I need this job. Maxi made sure of that. Even if I was into assholes, it’s not like I can afford to play around here.”

  “You shouldn’t knock playing around with assholes until you try it. Just make sure your partner knows how to properly clean themselves out first, of course.”

  I glared, which drew a rare grin from Anastasia. She was the queen of deadpan, and I thought she took it as a personal challenge to smile as little as possible. “You know what I meant.”

  “I’m just saying you shouldn’t ever rule out anal.”

  I shook my head at her. “Thanks for meeting me, by the way,” I said. “I’m sorry I haven’t asked to hang out as much. I was embarrassed to admit it, but money was really tight. And I didn’t think you wanted to squeeze into my apartment to share ramen.”

  “You know you’re my dude,” Anastasia said. She pulled off a chunk of her bread and chucked it at me. “Soup or ramen. Count me in.”

  I reached over the table and gave her hand a squeeze. “You have no idea how nice it is to hear that. My friends before… I guess I’m realizing now they weren’t really friends.”

  Anastasia winked at me. “I’ve told you I’m bi, right? Keep holding my hand like that and we’re going to graduate from friends to pillow fights, sleepovers, and innocent experimentation.”

  I grinned. “Way to make it weird.”

  She took her hand back with a shrug. “You started it.”

  “So,” I said a little while later once we’d finished our soups. “I kind of went behind his back and sent this email yesterday.” I explained how he’d been hoping to catch his employees with their pants down and I’d warned them.

  Anastasia whistled. “Good for you.”

  “Yeah. I’m just hoping I don’t regret it on Monday. What if he finds out?”

  “Then you look him in the eye and tell him to deal with it. I don’t know if you realize, but this guy clearly wants a piece of your biscuit. Offering you a job on the spot like that? Especially when you were sassing him? He likes you being bad, Jules. I say keep it up.”

  I laughed, but a warmth started to spread through me. Why the hell was that idea turning me on? Whatever bad ideas my body may have been cooking, I had to remind myself I needed to keep this job. If I lost it, I’d be out of money in a matter of weeks and looking at the choice between homelessness or running back to New York with my tail between my legs.

  I just hoped I wasn’t going to be greeted by a pissed off Mr. White on Monday who wanted to know why I’d sent that email.

  6

  Adrian

  “What the hell is this?” I asked.

  Jules was sitting across from my desk with her hands folded on her knees. She had on a gray skirt that hadn’t looked too short until she sat down. Now it was more than halfway up her thighs and my damn brain was doing a piss poor job at not noticing. Over and over.

  She looked painfully adorable. Her blonde hair was tied up in a neat mess, highlighting her heart-shaped face and button nose. But those big eyes of hers had a way of looking taunting, even when she was hanging her head and wringing her hands.

  “What is what?” Jules asked quietly.

  I had my laptop turned to face her. It showed a copy of the email she’d sent to all my employees on Friday. “You warned them all.”

  Jules licked her lips. I briefly imagined what that pink tongue of hers would feel like in my mouth, then jerked my thoughts back to an appropriate place. “What really matters is that they get the work done, right? I figured this way was a win win. You get to show them you’re keeping an eye on them, but you don’t have to fire anybody to send the message.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Because I was considering firing one person. I wonder what message that would send.”

  Jules sank a little lower in her chair. Somehow her eyes still held an impossible flicker of defiance, even when I had her backed into a corner. “It wo
uld send a ‘now hiring’ message, I guess. You’d need to find a new personal assistant ASAP.”

  I stared. I almost laughed in disbelief. Nobody reacted like this when I had them in the chair. Nobody stared back into my eyes when I was pissed and made jokes. Sure, Jules looked like she was about to piss herself even as she was quipping with me, but her backbone was incredible.

  “Let this be a lesson, Miss Adams. You are being watched. Your email is not private. Your communication with my employees is not private. Working as my assistant grants you privileged information, and I’m going to ensure you learn to keep that information to yourself.”

  Her lips pressed together, and her cheeks started to go red. I could tell she wanted to say something but was holding back. “What?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I feel like I shouldn’t say it.”

  “Good,” I said. “Then you’re learning. Now go to your desk and get back to work. I just emailed you a list of authors I need you to contact. When you finish that, I’ve got dry cleaning at Venna’s. And I want a BLT for lunch today. Make sure they don’t put mayo on it.”

  “Venna’s is on the opposite end of the city,” she said. “It’ll take me an hour to get there with traffic.”

  “Then I suggest you learn to multitask. Send emails at red lights.”

  Jules got up, doing a sexy little shimmy as she pulled her skirt down back to a few inches above her knees. I tried and failed not to watch her full ass as it practically fought to break free from the skirt on her way out of my office.

  Goddamn, I thought. I was glad my partners weren’t in town at the moment. I needed to find a way to get myself under control with this woman before they arrived. I knew they’d all see straight through me, and they’d have a right to be pissed. I was supposed to be the one in control of this whole operation. I wasn’t the one who was supposed to get distracted or make bad decisions on account of my cock.

  But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy interacting with her. It was a breath of fresh air to meet someone who could almost go toe to toe with me. It made me crave the moment where I could squash that last little rebellious spark from her. I imagined how satisfying it would be to see her bend over for me, to watch the realization settle into her eyes as she understood she’d been fooling herself when she thought she could handle me.

  And yet another part of me hoped she wouldn’t bend. Jules giving in and submitting would be good for the fuck of my life, but if she managed to keep that backbone of hers, she’d be far more dangerous to me. She’d be someone who would continue to command my attention. Someone I might not be able to get off my mind.

  I ran both hands down my face and groaned. An email popped up. My chest clenched when I saw that it looked like she’d sent another email to the whole company. I half stood when I saw the subject line.

  * * *

  Subject: Mr. White’s secret plan.

  * * *

  Attention all employees,

  Mr. White has a highly secret, highly interesting plan I’ve just been informed of. Please see me at my desk for more information. ASAP.

  * * *

  Yours truly,

  Jules

  * * *

  I had no idea what she was talking about, but I shoved the door to my office open and stormed toward reception. Everybody ducked their head when they saw me, and the room fell silent. I yanked open the double doors and found Jules at her desk with a shit-eating grin on her face.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked.

  She held up both palms like I’d just drawn a gun on her. “Probably a bad joke?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Did you notice I added a ‘1’ after everybody’s email? You’re the only person here who saw that.”

  I put my hands on her desk, leaning forward. I couldn’t believe the gall of this woman. I’d just finished warning her to be careful and she thought it was a good idea to play a joke on me? I very nearly laughed, but then I steeled my nerves and clenched my jaw. “If I wanted to hire a comedian, I would’ve done that.”

  Jules gulped and looked down again. “I was hoping to lighten the tension a bit.”

  “Get used to the tension, Miss Adams. Learn to thrive in it, or it’ll snap you in two.”

  I left her at her desk, went back to my office, then sat down with an another annoyed groan. I should’ve fired her several times by now. The fact that I hadn’t was a very, very bad sign. Sure, I could keep myself from laughing. I could even force out the words to make her think I wasn’t amused. What I couldn’t do was hide the truth from myself.

  I was enjoying this. Far too much.

  7

  Juliette

  I’d been rudely awoken by a knock at my door, told Mr. White needed me to arrive early, and whisked into a black SUV as soon as I’d managed to get halfway ready.

  Adrian’s driver at least had the decency to look apologetic. His name was Harvey, and he spent the first few minutes of our ride explaining how Mr. White wasn’t so bad once you learned not to question him.

  “Mr. White insisted that I get you an appropriate outfit for tonight,” Harvey said.

  I leaned in and turned the air vents away from myself. It was freezing, and the air was blowing straight up my skirt. “Am I allowed to know what’s happening tonight?” I asked. I was bleary-eyed, even though I normally considered myself a morning person.

  I’d had to stay up late last night finishing with my work from yesterday. Mr. White hadn’t mentioned that each author I emailed for him was going to turn into a back-and-forth communication loop. By the time I’d been leaving the office, I was entrenched in over a dozen email conversations with authors who were asking me dozens of questions I didn’t know how to answer. I’d been up late emailing Mr. White asking how to respond and getting more and more frustrated that the damn man wouldn’t just email the authors himself.

  “Tonight is Coleton Day. The anniversary of the day Russ Coleton founded Coleton Enterprises. Every branch throws a little office boozer to celebrate after the workday.”

  Harvey was watching me in the rearview, so I nodded. He was in his fifties with a big bear kind of vibe. He had a well-trimmed beard, but I could picture how he probably preferred to have his brown hair grown out, curly, and wild.

  “Sounds fun,” I said.

  “Nah. Mr. White isn’t a big fan of fun. He keeps things as formal as he’s allowed to. If it wasn’t an order straight from Mr. Coleton himself, I’m sure Mr. White would skip it. Uh,” Harvey said, crinkling his eyes at me in the rearview. “Kindly don’t mention I said that, Miss.”

  I decided I liked Harvey and smiled back. “Secret’s safe with me.”

  We pulled up to a little boutique shop a few minutes later. Mannequins in cute dresses were on display in the window. “So,” I said. “It’s like five in the morning. Does Mr. White know most human beings don’t wake up, let alone open their businesses this early?”

  Harvey put his arm around the passenger seat and looked back toward me, grinning. “One thing you’ll want to understand about Mr. White is that he has a way of getting what he wants. Either by force of will, bribery, intimidating, or—believe it or not—smooth talking.”

  I tilted my head. “Yeah. I think I’m going into the ‘believe it not’ camp on the smooth talking. Mr. White is about as smooth as sandpaper.”

  Harvey nodded knowingly. “I know it seems that way, but the man is full of surprises. Anyway, he arranged to have the store open early for you.” Harvey cleared his throat, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “Mr. White asked me to let you know that he’d already selected a dress for you. They’re just going to make sure it fits and do any necessary adjustments.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “He picked out a dress for me? I never told him my size.”

  Harvey shrugged. “Like I said. It’s best to just go with it. But we’d better hurry, he wanted you to pick up his coffee on your way in once we’re through here.”

  I
shook my head and got out of the car. Of course he did.

  To my annoyance, the dress he’d picked out fit me perfectly. I also went in hoping I’d hate it, but once I saw it on myself, I realized Mr. White had shockingly good taste. It was a button front dress with short, flared sleeves at shoulder height and a flattering A shape that tapered from my waist. It was simple but flattering and conservative at the same time.

  Part of me had almost expected him to pick something revealing, but once I saw the dress, I realized it made more sense for it to be conservative. I suspected Mr. White didn’t want me wearing something too sexy in front of all his employees tonight. I just wondered if that was his way of trying to avoid workplace flirtation, or if it was his way of keeping me for himself.

  The latter thought should’ve pissed me off, but I didn’t entirely hate the little game of cat and mouse he seemed intent on playing. I just hoped he didn’t mind finding out that if I was the mouse, I was the type of mouse who bit back.

  We swung through a coffee shop, and I saw that, sure enough, I had a detailed email with his exact coffee order. Somehow, the man needed a paragraph to explain that he didn’t want anything in his coffee. It was mostly a bunch of assurances that he’d make me regret it if I didn’t personally watch to make sure they didn’t tamper with his coffee. I did appreciate the brief post note demanding that I get something for myself with the card Harvey had supplied. He’d even had me get something for Harvey, but he managed to taint any potential kindness in the act by assuring me I’d need the caffeine to survive the day ahead of me.

  I thanked Harvey once he dropped me off at the offices and made my way to Mr. White’s office with his coffee. Nobody else was in yet, and his light was the only one on when I entered the room.