Boss Me

by Claire Adams

What the fuck was I even talking about?

  “Oh, a stark black suit with a pale color underneath. I like it. Especially since your hair is lightly colored. It would be a good contrast to your eyes. You’d look like a shark in the business world.”

  “Is that a good thing?” I asked.

  “It’s a great thing,” Stella said as she whipped the door open. “How are we doing on colors?”

  “No to everything except this black coat,” I said.

  “Well, the black does look good on you, but only if it’s that midnight black. Faded black wouldn’t go well with the redness of your skin tones,” she said.

  “Again, no idea what that means,” I said.

  “Alright. So, shining midnight black. Now, we need to figure out the style of suit you want,” she said.

  “We’re going to be here awhile, aren’t we?” I asked.

  “Yes. You’re stuck with me a little while longer,” she said.

  “Eh, I could be stuck with someone worse,” I said, shrugging.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said, smiling. “And, by the way? That black really does look good on you.”

  “Thanks.”

  I had never seen Stella this jovial or this helpful in my entire life, and it really suited her. The way her whole face lit up with excitement warmed my chest. This was the type of happiness Stella deserved after losing her father so suddenly. She was enjoying this, and it was wonderful to see her in her element.

  I was learning more and more about her, and she seemed a bit more beautiful.

  Radiant.

  Delightful to be around.

  “How do you feel about matching black pants?” the stylist said.

  “Isn’t that sort of what’s supposed to happen with a suit?” I asked.

  “You seriously have no idea what you’re doing,” he said, chuckling.

  Once we found a couple pairs of nice pants I could wear with this one jacket, we began fitting clothes to suit me. Stella was talking with the stylist about every color shirt and tie she brought in, but all I could do was focus on the light greens she was bringing in. If the contrast of jet black and light green looked good on her, why wouldn’t it look good on me?

  Why did I even care?

  I put on a pair of slim black pants with the black suit coat and a dark green shirt. The tie was a pale green to tone down whatever color my skin was at any given moment, and I walked out to stand in front of a full-length mirror. It fit well, not baggy like the gray one I had at home. I could see what the stylist meant about the colors ringing nicely with my hair, but what I couldn’t get over was Stella.

  Her eyes were hooked on me, and for a split second, I felt a surge of pride ricochet through my stomach. I’d never had any woman look at me the way she was right now. For a moment, everything but Stella faded into the background. I studied her eyes — the way they matched my tie as they looked up and down my form. I studied her mouth — the way her lips slightly parted in shock as she saw the way the suit fell against my body. I studied her hips — the way they cocked to the side as she checked out my shoulders, hips, and legs.

  I had to remind myself she was my stepsister.

  “You look spectacular, Christian,” she said.

  “Ya think so?” I asked.

  “You really do.”

  Her eyes locked with mine in the reflection of the mirror, and a soft smile dawned on her face. Like the sun rising above the horizon, I was witnessing a side to Stella I’d never had the privilege of seeing. She was stunned and pleasantly surprised. She was happy and radiantly thrilled.

  I couldn’t help but take in the way she was looking at me, until her phone rang in her pocket.

  “Hold on,” she said.

  She turned away from me and the moment was lost. I took a deep breath while the stylist began putting pins in random places on the clothes, but I kept my ears tuned to her conversation as she began to talk.

  “Hey, Greyson,” she said.

  Of course, it was him.

  “Greyson. Greyson? Can you hear me?”

  I watched her nose crinkle as she held the phone to her ear. The smile dropped from her face, and her shoulders rolled back, and I knew where she was headed. Something had thrown her into defensive mode, and I felt my fists ball up at my sides.

  “Loose hands, please,” the stylist said.

  She stood there with the phone at her ear, her back turned to us as her body slowly slumped. I heard her say Greyson’s name one last time before she hung up the phone, but when she turned around, I could see her eyes were red.

  “Stella?” I asked. “Is everything alright?”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “What was that about?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said flatly.

  “Was he there?”

  “I think he butt-dialed me,” she said.

  “Then why do you look like you’ve just been stabbed in the heart?” I asked.

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Stella, could I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” she said breathlessly.

  “Why are you with him?” I asked.

  And she looked up at me with glistening eyes before she shrugged her shoulders and sighed.

  “I really don’t know,” she said. “But I have to go.”

  “Well, hold on. Let me get changed and I’ll help you.”

  “Get the suit. The green looks fabulous, find one more dress shirt with a tie that looks good. Maybe blue. That’ll bring out your eyes. I have to go.”

  “Stella, wait just a second.”

  “See you at the office,” she said, sniffling.

  And with that, she was gone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Stella

  After thinking about the phone call for a couple of days, I finally decided to confront Greyson. He was dodging my calls and not returning my text messages, so showing up at his home was the only option I had. My mind was spinning with every single excuse I could concoct: maybe the woman’s voice I heard was on the television. Maybe he was in a meeting with a woman. Maybe he was helping a woman who was in labor or in pain.

  But deep down, I knew what I had heard. And I wanted to see if Greyson would be man enough to admit it to me.

  I pulled up to his home at 7, an hour before I was due at the office. We needed to talk. In my heart, I wanted him to look me in the eye and tell me it was all in my head. That the butt-dial phone call where I heard his grunting and a woman’s panting was nothing more than a workout partner or him saving someone’s day.

  I wanted him to tell me he wasn’t cheating on me.

  I’d spent the past two years of my life loving him. Despite his downfalls and all the cocky arrogance he possessed, he understood me in ways no one else did. He wasn’t always there when I wanted him, but he was there when I always needed him.

  Well, except at the funeral. But, I understood that work came first sometimes.

  When I pulled up to his house, I saw a car I didn’t recognize in the driveway. I felt my stomach drop to my knees, so I decided to call him one last time. This was his last chance to pick up the phone and explain to me what was going on. One final opportunity to explain himself and let me know he cared about me as much as I cared about him.

  But when it rang once then went to his voicemail, I climbed out of my car and used my key to get into his house.

  “Greyson?” I called out. “You here?”

  I heard shuffling around in the bedroom before a door opened up, and Greyson stumbled out into the hallway in his boxers with disheveled hair. I had always loved the way he first looked thing in the morning. He was always disoriented before his coffee, but he always had the best sexual stamina in the morning also. I loved his coffee-tainted breath on my lips.

  He was always the gentlest when he was first caffeinated and waking up.

  “Stella?” he asked. “Hey there, sweetheart. Everything alright?”

  “Are you aw
are you butt-dialed me a couple days ago?” I asked.

  “Uh, really?” he asked. “I didn’t realize that.”

  “Are you aware that I just called you?” I asked.

  “Actually, no. I wasn’t. I was in the bathroom,” he said.

  “Then, who shot me to voicemail?” I asked.

  Just then, I heard more shuffling in his room. My mind was yelling at me, knowing full good and well what was going on, but my heart didn’t want to admit it. My pride wanted Greyson to say it, and my feet wanted to turn and walk out of the house.

  Walk out before my worst nightmare officially proved true.

  “Who’s in your room, Greyson?” I asked coolly.

  “Stella, this isn’t what it looks like,” he said.

  “I’m not looking at anything. Just my boyfriend of two years looking wonderful in his boxers. What am I hearing?” I asked.

  I started down the hallway, and he stepped in front of me to stop me in my tracks. I tried to sidestep him, dodging his arms and body, and finally pushed past him before I threw his bedroom door open. The darkness of his room shrouded a figure moving underneath his sheets, so I reached over to turn on the light.

  But, his hand caught me mid-air before I could.

  “Stella, just listen,” he said into my ear.

  “You are such a little fucker, Greyson,” I whispered.

  I flipped the light on and saw exactly what I knew I would, and she was beautiful. Exotic tanned skin with long, curly brown hair. Her deep brown eyes twinkled with his bedroom lights as my eyes drifted over the dark hickeys on her neck and chest. The sheet fell from her breasts, full and perky and red with his teeth marks.

  My vision tunneled as my heart shattered into pieces.

  “You are such a sack of shit!” I yelled, throwing my fist into Greyson’s stomach.

  “Stella, come on,” he said. “Let’s be reasonable.”

  “Reasonable? Reasonable! My father just died, and you missed the fucking funeral, and you want me to be reasonable? You’re fucking around with some bimbo! Were you fucking her during my father’s funeral?”

  “What? No! Stella, what the fuck.”

  “So, you didn’t ditch my father’s funeral so you could get some pussy? You didn’t leave me high and dry when I needed you most so you could get your kicks since I wasn’t giving you any?” I yelled.

  “Stella, let’s sit down and talk. Surely we can work this out.”

  “I’m done,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Greyson, I’ve defended you for years. Every single person in my life, including the man I just buried, can’t stand you. They think you’re elitist and an idiot. Pompous and aristocratic. They say you live with your head in the clouds, and I defended you. For two solid years, I defended why I wanted you by my side. And this is how you repay me?”

  “Well, it’s not my fault they can’t see the value in me,” he said.

  “Are you fucking serious?” I asked, my fingernails digging into the skin of my balled-up fists.

  “People are always intimidated by those they can’t surpass. It’s really a compliment,” he said.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked.

  “Stella, can we please just sit and talk? I’ll tell Brianna to go home, and we can have a discussion.”

  I stared at him like he had a tarantula on his face. This man was in bed with a fucking naked woman, and he wanted to send her home so we could talk. This man that I’d given two years of my life to was fucking another woman, and somehow, he was making me feel like the unreasonable one!

  “I’m done, Greyson. Enjoy your slice of regret over there,” I said.

  “Stella. Wait. Come on, Stella! Don’t be an idiot!”

  “Lose my number, you asshole!”

  I slammed out of his home and peeled from his driveway. If I didn’t get out of here now, I’d do something I was going to wholly regret. Tears flooded my face as I raced to the office, my appetite no longer anxious for the cheese danish I always got from the bakery down the street.

  I needed to get to my office and sink myself into work before Christian got in.

  I threw the doors of the building open and started for my office. My heart was pulsing in my ears, and I couldn’t see straight. I knew my face was flushed, and I could feel my hands shaking. I wiped the tears from my eyes as I approached the door of my office, but the moment I reached for my keys I felt a hand descend onto my shoulder.

  “Stella,” Christian said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, you startled me; not sleeping well is all,” I said.

  “Don’t lie to me,” he said. “Don’t back away from me.”

  “I need to go prep for this meeting, Christian. It’s in an hour,” I said.

  “Then I’ll prep with you.”

  “No, let me get myself together, and I’ll be fine,” I said.

  “Did Greyson do something?” he asked.

  The question stopped me in my tracks, and tears hopped back into my eyes. I unlocked my office door and walked in, feeling Christian hot on my heels. I didn’t want to talk about this, especially with him. But, when I turned around and saw him in his beautifully tailored suit, something inside me felt safe.

  And what had happened fell from my lips without me having to think about it.

  “The butt-dial that happened a couple of days ago was Greyson with another woman. I found him with her this morning,” I said.

  Christian’s eyes turned from confusion to sympathy, and he drew me into his body in a bear hug. I wrapped my arms around his thin frame, pressing my cheek into his surprisingly strong chest, and all I wanted to do was sob. Everyone had been right about him, but I had been desperate to prove them wrong. I wanted them to see the man I saw when it was the two of us alone — the caring, devoted, passionate man who was driven to excel in absolutely everything he did.

  But they were right. They were all right, and I was all wrong.

  “I’m so sorry, Stella,” he said.

  He rubbed my back while I pulled myself together, then I pushed him away and sat down heavily on my couch. I began pulling files from my briefcase to prepare for the meeting, and I lost myself so deeply into the files, I didn’t realize he had walked away.

  “Stella?” Christian said.

  “I’ll be ready in 30,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about it. I rescheduled our meeting with the doctor for Monday,” he said.

  “What?” I asked. “Why the hell did you do that?”

  “Because you need time to adjust. I told her there was information we would need from her, detailed information, and she said she could have it ready by Monday. That way, you have time to process, I have more time to learn the tricks of the trade, and we can get her going with orders before we even walk out of that meeting,” he said.

  I looked over at him in appreciation and took in the impression he made in his new clothes. The suit fell wonderfully against his shoulders before it tapered at his waist, and I’d never realized until this very moment how long his legs really were.

  It took force to rip my gaze from him before I flopped the files down onto the coffee table.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “No thanks needed. It’s the smarter choice for the company in the end.”

  “When did you get to be so smart?” I asked.

  “I’ve always been smart, I think,” he said, winking.

  “Stella!”

  I hopped up from the couch when I heard Greyson’s voice yell down the hallway.

  “Greyson’s here?” I asked.

  “I’ll handle this,” Christian said.

  “Stella! Get out here now!” he yelled.

  Christian stood his entire body in my doorway, and it was the first time I got a sense of how truly tall he was. He pushed his hands into his pockets and stood in the doorway of my office, blocking Greyson from coming in. His shoulders were pulled back, and his head was held high, and that’s when I finally real
ized that Christian had grown up.

  Christian Gunn had become a man, and I had been oblivious to it.

  “Can I help you?” Christian asked.

  “Get out of my way,” Greyson said. “Where’s Stella?”

  “Hard at work helping me run this company. But, I’d be more than willing to take a message for her, if you’d like,” Christian said.

  “Stella! You left before we could talk!” Greyson yelled.

  “I don’t really believe there’s anything for the two of you to talk about. You cheated on my stepsister. One of the most beautiful, vibrant women I’ve ever known. That’s your fault.”

  “No one breaks up with me. We can talk this out. She’s better than this,” Greyson said.

  “No,” Christian said. “She’s better than you.”

  “Fine. You want to play it like this? That’s alright with me,” Greyson said. “You tell her she’ll amount to nothing. There’s no fucking way she could run a company like this. Hell, she couldn’t even stick out a decent relationship without bitching at every single hiccup we had.”

  “Is that what this was? You just hiccupped your dick into the body of another woman?” Christian asked.

  “You let her know I stopped by,” Greyson said.

  “Not a chance,” Christian said.

  I heard Greyson stomp down the hallway, and I sighed as I leaned heavily into the corner. My mind was swirling with a bunch of different thoughts, but there was one that kept running on a loop at the forefront of my mind.

  Beautiful, vibrant woman.

  “Stella?” Christian asked. “You alright?”

  “Did you mean what you said?” I asked.

  “Huh?”

  “About me. Did you mean it?”

  “Of course I did. Every person who comes into contact with you should,” he said.

  I felt my cheeks flush, and I chastised myself for feeling this way. In our entire relationship, the only compliment Greyson had ever paid me was how well I sucked his cock in bed. For him, that was a huge compliment. No woman could get him off in bed the way I could, and I took pride in that throughout the entirety of our relationship.

  But standing there and listening to what Christian had to say about me felt better.

  I didn’t realize men could give those types of compliments to women and mean them.