Boss Undercover: Part 1 (Boss Undercover Series)

by J. S. Badham

  “Exactly. How else are you gonna get the full experience? I even say you budget yourself.” He clicked the roof of his mouth. “Say, eight hundred pounds a month or something,” Kyle suggested.

  “What? You have got to be kidding. How am I supposed to eat out? What about my weekly massage sessions? Or the gym! I’d blow it all in less than a week!” Zack exclaimed, frowning at Kyle, who was looking greener with greed than his own pair of chinos.

  “And there’s your true colours, you snob.” Kyle grinned.

  “I genuinely despise you,” Zack remarked.

  “Ah, isn’t our friendship beautiful?”

  “No.”

  Kyle chuckled. “Let us not be negative, shall we? All I’m asking you to do is live with this person. You can toy around with the business, Zacky-boy. So, cheer up,” Kyle encouraged, getting up to his feet. “I had the audacity of neatly placing the advert in your blazer pocket. Aren’t I lovely? And guess what? You’re so unrecognisable in your own position that you don’t even need a disguise! Farewell.” Mockingly waving at Zack, he headed out the two tall doors.

  Zack crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at the door.

  As much as Zack wanted to throw Kyle into space, he was a man of his word. That evening he telephoned the addressee, partly expecting to hear a male…instead, delightfully, he melted with eagerness at hearing a woman on the other end.

  “Hello? Who is this?” she asked, her appealing, fairly soft tone spurring Zack’s appetite despite the meal Maria had placed before him that was cooked by a private chef.

  He leaned his elbows on the counter, thumbing on how he should respond. He had to be quick because he could hear her hesitation, from the distance her voice seemed to travel as she huffed in frustration. “It’s…Zack C—Zack Chase. I’m enquiring on the rent,” he piped up, stroking his stubbly chin.

  “Oh, sorry.” She anxiously chuckled. “Erm, I just wasn’t expecting even a word of interest. I th—er, sorry. The rent, yeah. Bad day, so I’m kinda—sorry, I shouldn’t be―”

  Zack’s smile broadened deviously. “Not at all. I wouldn’t blame you for being so suddenly anxious from the delivery of such a handsome tone,” he teased.

  He’d expected her to at least quiver or stutter on the spot, like he was used to. She did not. She took him by surprise with her witty remark. “Oh, okay, buddy. Yeah, sure. Look, the rent has gone up. So it’s four hundred seventy-five pounds at the moment. Take it or leave it, Mr. Casanova,” she said, putting him on the spot.

  Zack swallowed. Not usually what he was used to. But he liked it, strangely enough.

  “A’ight,” he agreed. “Where do I sign my name?”

  “Yeah, okay, sure—wait, really?” she buzzed.

  “Sure,” he replied, tapping his finger on the counter. “This Mr. Casanova is interested.” He licked his bottom lip.

  “Erm, yeah. Well, when do you think you can—”

  “Now,” he interrupted. “I’ll meet you as soon as possible, and we’ll have this ship sailing in no time.” He sat up, excited for some reason when he heard a short squeal of her own excitement.

  “Okay, that’s cool. How about tomorrow? I’ll forward you the address to this number,” she said. It was apparent to him that she felt awkward because she cleared her throat several times.

  “Beautiful. Until then,” he uttered, instantly deciding he was going to like parts of this situation.

  “Sure, see you tomorrow,” she responded. You hear that fellas?

  Chapter Three

  CLAIRE

  She’d read a book last night. She’d also cried. A lot. But then she cheered up a little when that stranger called up. He sounded cocky. Not like how the protagonist’s lover in this book sounded, no, that male character was a raw gentleman. Not only was the plot cliché, springing up the stereotypes of masculinity and femininity, it was also awfully addictive. Claire could not deny her toes curled at the obnoxiously attractive male whose mane of long, tousled hair shimmered down onto his bronzed chest while, of course, the damsel in distress fainted into his strong arms. And how the sex was mind-blowingly so perfect the protagonist cried. Yeah, it was shit. Read a horror next time, she’d told herself.

  Going in to work was a troubling task at best. She did not want to go in.

  “I still can’t believe yesterday,” Claire sighed, stirring the sugar around in her tea.

  “Me neither. You should see how she keeps fucking prancing around the office. It’s as if she thinks she’s bloody won the presidential election. Claire, I know you wanted the promotion, but I’m just glad you’re not sharing it with creepy old Graves,” Darren confessed, putting the bottle of milk back into the fridge.

  “Ah, I suppose,” she replied, clinking the spoon around the diameter of the cup.

  At that moment, Jason entered, his hands in his trouser pockets and the pocket watch he liked attached to his waist jacket, swinging like a pendulum against his chest. His brows lifted up as if to say hello before they dropped as he stopped a footstep away from Claire.

  “Hey, can we talk?” he asked, itching his forehead.

  “Sure.” Claire shrugged her shoulders.

  “Erm,” Jason began, uncomfortably glancing over to Darren, who was curiously watching this all play out until he took the memo and dashed out the kitchen.

  Claire quizzically looked behind her, wondering why he left.

  Jason anxiously laughed. “Erm. I was wondering if you wanted to go out over the weekend?”

  “Er, like where?”

  “The movies or…well, the movies,” he said, a flare of redness inflaming his cheeks.

  Claire shrugged her shoulders once again. “Sure, why not? Just text me the details.”

  “Great, great.” Jason smiled, nodding as he said his farewell, then left the kitchen on his way back into the ant farm, the office.

  Darren whooped quietly as he swooped back in, smacking his knee as he hopped. “I knew it!” he exclaimed. “I told you! I told you!”

  Claire frowned. “Told me what?”

  “He likes you!”

  “No, no. Wait. This isn’t a date,” she disagreed, shaking her head.

  “It is, babes.” Darren smirked. “You just entered first class on the love boat.” He winked, lifting and dropping his eyebrows.

  “No, no, no.” She shook her head.

  “Yes—oh,” he teased, “he’s gonna relieve some of that tension I know has been building up in you for a while, oh, oh, yes, yes.”

  “I’m not sexually frustrated!”

  Darren chuckled, ignoring her completely as they headed into the office and took their desks.

  Claire rolled her eyes at Darren’s immaturity as he pretended to shoot an arrow over to Jason, who was sitting towards the front of the department, typing madly away. There was just no way this was a date.

  She turned on her computer, opening various spreadsheets. For the next several hours, she would relentlessly work non-stop until she could no longer feel her toes or fingers.

  ***

  “Urgh,” she grumbled, stretching her arms. She’d managed to finish the spreadsheet covering last month’s financial outlook, editing and updating comments to suggest where there could be improvement for their product.

  “I’m beat.” Darren yawned, glancing at his wrist watch. “It’s five. Time to go.”

  Claire agreed, switching the desktop off. She was busy collecting her pencil case and water bottle when the beep of her phone alerted her. Expecting a message of either a relative or friend, she cursed aloud when she read the single line. “Shit, shit,” she repeated, throwing her phone quickly in her bag.

  “What’s up?” he asked, putting on his bright yellow jacket.

  “I forgot that I was supposed to be meeting someone later,” she replied, getting to her feet and putting on her parka jacket. “He’s coming to check out the apartment.”

  “He?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you for
got to tell me that someone was interested because?” Darren crossed his arms, scrutinizing her with his blue eyes.

  “Yeah, sorry. I forgot myself,” she admitted, placing the strap of her handbag across her shoulder.

  “Erh, huh. Well, what does he sound like?”

  Claire snorted, shaking her head as they both headed towards the lift shaft. “Like a cocky bastard.”

  Darren lifted his eyebrows, pressing the call button. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “Just…I only care if he can pay the rent. That’s all I’m asking for,” she insisted, combing her hair with her fingers towards her right shoulder.

  “Hmm, cocky. I wonder,” Darren said, grinning from ear to ear. “If he’s gay, I’d love to mingle with him. Although, did I tell you about that next-door neighbour I have down the corridor?”

  “No, why?” Claire swiped her ID card as they passed through reception.

  “Sweet mother, he’s handsome.” Darren dazed off into the distance.

  Claire chuckled, stopping as her phone buzzed again. “Okay, now either I’ve agreed to allow a spy to move into my apartment or he’s just a good stalker. Apparently, he’s outside,” she said, gaping a little as she refused to believe that he meant directly here, right now.

  “Like outside, as in outside?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “I think I should actually run. He might be some seriously messed-up dude,” she joked.

  They stopped outside adjacent to the large, faintly orange pots filled with plants standing outside on either end of the revolving doors. Darren sat on the edge of the stone wall that led down to the bottom of the road, tucking his finger into his loafers where he had an uncomfortable itch.

  “So, what now?” he piped up. “We waiting for him? How do you even know what he looks like?”

  Claire shrugged her shoulders. “Exactly. I don’t know. He said he was around here. I’ll text him now.” She got her phone again, hovering her fingers across the screen, stopping at the urgency of Darren’s shrill tone.

  “Oi, oi, check him out over there,” he said, pointing his finger rudely at a man who was leaning his foot against the wall, his head down as he looked at his phone. “Handsome devil.”

  Claire glanced, strangely enough agreeing. He had a killer jawline, stretching in a V-shape near enough, tousled raven hair, and broad shoulders that went on for days. Questions flew around in her mind. Did he work here? Did he have a girlfriend? Was he related to Greek gods? Cliché, she knew. But it had made her subconsciously bite down on her tongue. Wasn’t that the case with every attractive person, though? Even if they weren’t asking for it, she was gonna give him the attention.

  “Okay, he’s fit,” she declared, lifting her eyebrows as the stretch of his blue t-shirt followed the contour of his figure.

  “Think he’s single?”

  “Dunno. Just, I feel strangely inferior. I shouldn’t even be looking at him,” she said, squeezing her fingers into her palms. “I really badly want to keep staring at him, though.” She paused, her phone beeped, begging her to detach her gaze away from the beautiful specimen. “Apparently, he’s—” Her face began to turn white. “He’s—”

  “He’s what?” Darren demanded.

  Claire swallowed. “He’s sitting on a wall.”

  Darren’s smile beamed. “You think it’s him?” He jerked his head to the right, directly towards the stranger they’d both greedily undressed with their eyes.

  “I hope not,” she confessed. Then she quickly looked down to her phone, typed a message, and waited anxiously for the reply.

  Seconds later, she got the message, and that man sitting on the wall stood up.

  Holy mercy of cheese, she thought.

  ***

  Zack felt repulsed as he adjusted the collar of the blue and black squared flannel he was wearing open over the top of his blue t-shirt. He missed his own clothes. It felt cheap, nasty, and uncomfortable against his skin. Apparently, though, this was the height of fashion, as Kyle had kindly put it—back in his teenage years.

  His eyes searched the crowd, wondering if he should turn back. This sounded stupid. Why was he doing this again? He felt silly walking up to his own building pretending to be another, and it offended him that not a single face recognised him. Was his own face so much of a disguise?

  Ahead, he caught sight of a woman hesitantly walking straight into his path. Her fairly dark brown hair was swooped over her right shoulder, her lips perky and pink, and her eyes, a natural brown, seemingly glimmered and it struck him by surprise. She wasn’t massively attractive like models he’d fooled about with, no, she had something else. He couldn’t explain it, but it fascinated him. Her head was oval-shaped, she had a beauty mark below her left eye, and there were a few natural blemishes.

  Their paths collided. She stopped one step from him, and he did the same. She held her breath; whirl washed in the depths of his eyes.

  “Are you Zack Chase?” she asked eventually, startling him by surprise at the sound of his name—minus the surname—coming from her lips.

  He stiffened his posture, slowly grinning. “Yes,” he said, deliberately licking his bottom lip. “You must be Claire?”

  “Yes, er, can you give me one second?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  Then not nearly as slow as she moved towards him, she quickly swept away to whoever was waiting for her near the entrance of the building.

  ***

  CLAIRE

  Claire tugged on Darren’s shoulder, hissing, “What am I supposed to do? It’s him, a’ight! I can’t have him in my apartment. I’d be too scared to take a shit!”

  “Whoa, whoa, chill,” Darren consoled, grabbing both side of her arms. “Snap out of it. Fucking hell!”

  “But look at him, Darren,” she whispered. She quickly looked behind her; he was leaning up against the wall again.

  “Stop being such a drama queen. I’m jealous, babes. You’ve got potentially a sex god in your apartment. Don’t take that for granted,” he lectured, squeezing her arm. “Now stop being a pussy.” He pecked her left cheek and then slapped her back to spur her on.

  Claire’s legs really didn’t know how to function then. She had trouble moving them, as if she’d forgotten suddenly how to walk. Taking a deep breath, she headed towards him.

  “Sorry,” she began, pausing as his beautiful eyes looked up to her. “My friend needed directions. I presume you want to see the apartment now?”

  He nodded. “After you,” he said chivalrously, placing his hand out towards the road.

  “Erm, cool.” She nodded. “Just so you know, I don’t have a car, so we’re gonna have to catch the bus,” she explained, feeling hot and sweaty.

  ***

  ZACK

  Zack cringed inside. “Of course, that’s fine,” he lied through his teeth.

  “Erm,” she said as they stood at the stop, waiting for her bus to come. “How did you know I worked here?”

  Zack froze on the spot. “Some friend I know who works here found your advert at the workplace,” he lied once again…well, partly anyway.

  “Oh. Cool then.”

  “I’m surprised,” he said, startling Claire.

  “About what?”

  “Well, aren’t I Mr. Casanova? I was expecting a witty remark,” he teased with a grin.

  “Ha ha. No, I—well—yeah. Oh, look! Here’s the bus!” she exclaimed.

  Zack had never ridden a bus. It was definitely an experience. Jam packed. He couldn’t even confer with Claire, who managed to snag a seat, leaving him standing up at the front, holding onto a strap that he at first presumed was for decoration. He’d nearly learned the hard way, though. Some old woman even decided to ram her trolley into his leg, obviously forgetting there was a living soul there.

  “Are they always like that?” he asked, frowning as he rubbed his shoulder. They had got off at a stop that was just outside the block of the two-floored apartments Claire resided in. He was thankful t
o see the bus go. Never again, he shuddered.

  Claire snorted. “Why? Not your cup of tea usually?”

  Zack cocked his left eyebrow as they headed into the building. “Oh? No, it was charmingly splendid,” he said sarcastically as they took the flight of curved stairs.

  “Ha, yeah, you looked as if you’ve never even been on one. Not for you, is it, pretty boy?” she joked as she dug her hands into her bag for a set of keys to open up her apartment.

  “Pretty boy, eh? I thought you were in dire need of a flatmate? Aren’t you supposed to be impressing me? Not offending me?” he teased, watching as her cheeks tinged a little red. She was becoming a bit of challenge, which he was beginning to like.

  “I did not, nor do I need one,” she lied, pushing her key into the lock. “I was just doing a civilian service by offering my home up.”

  ***

  CLAIRE

  Her home was on show. She just hoped she had remembered to put away her washing. It was already awkward enough with this fella without adding a pair of knickers lying on the sofa or on top of some basket.

  “Okay,” she exhaled, stepping to the side to allow him to enter through. “This is what’s on offer,” she said.

  “Do you also come with that offer?” he remarked, his cheeky grin spreading quicker than a house on fire.

  “Oh, very funny,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

  ***

  ZACK

  So, she was different, Zack thought. He had to step his game up.

  She introduced him to the kitchen, pointed to the appliances, explained that the oven could sometimes be dodgy, and they should form a rota on who does the washing up. Then came the bedrooms, two separate on either side of the corridor, and the bathroom at the end of it.

  “Looks…cosy,” he observed. This was all entirely too small. How on earth do people even live like this? he thought. Even the bathtub appeared like only an arm could fit.