Boss with Benefits

by Mickey Miller

  "I know right." I say. “Since when do we have to do such B.S. work. I thought this task force was supposed to be about efficiency.” I get to work because Kim is barely out of earshot, so she might hear me and get me into even more trouble.

  "Thank you, thank you, thank you" she says. “And sorry for the repetitive work but, Mr. Blackwell will be taking a leave of absence. There's certain venom in her voice. Troy raises his hand.”

  "We didn't hear anything about this, why wouldn't he tell us in person? Is he okay?"

  "You know Troy, that's a good question and it's one that you don't need to know the answer to. Are there any other questions?" Something is super weird but I can't figure out exactly what Kim did to Mr. Blackwell. She shoots me deathly look.

  "Perfect," Kim smiles.

  "Now, I'll just be reading these to determine who will stay and who will go. Who is expendable and who is actually doing work. So, thanks for your time we're actually going to just leave it at that today."

  She walks out of the room with the stack of papers in her hand, and this has just officially been the weirdest meeting I've ever been in.

  Twenty Two - Sebastian

  Sometimes when the shit hits the fan in your life you just gotta take a step back and think about things.

  You also need to take some time off work, go out to your grandparents and make some homemade pizza.

  It’s been a whole week since the fiasco with Brett. I’ve never been bent out of shape because of a girl before. Something about the way Brett and I left things sits horribly with me though, and I need to figure out what to do about it.

  So on Friday evening, I head out to my grandparents’ place, in the country to the north of Blackwell. Sure, I could go to my Dad's but there's just something that makes me feel more comfortable asking my grandparents about this particular dilemma that I'm facing right now.

  My grandmother kneads the dough for the pizza while my grandfather starts the homemade tomato sauce recipe that's been in our family for generations. It's really not that hard; olive oil, garlic, onion, and of course, the most important ingredient, fresh tomatoes directly from the garden. There's nothing like those. Tomatoes of the freshest order.

  As I help my grandfather chop tomatoes, I am reminded of how tomato red Brett's cheeks got when Kim came to the door.

  This has the dual effect of getting me worked up while putting thoughts of Brett back in my head, and also making me angry about my situation. I shake my head slightly, trying to get rid of the bad thoughts going through me.

  “So Sebastian,” my grandfather says. “What's got you down?”

  “Just some work stuff,” I shrug.

  “Mo’ money, mo’ problems,” My grandmother quips mindlessly, still kneading the dough.

  I furrow up my brow. “Grandma...did you just quote Notorious B.I.G.?”

  Before she can respond, my grandpa clasps his hand over my shoulder and squeezes. “Look Sebastian, now maybe you can bullshit your way with some people. But I know that you didn’t call me up to take a day off work on a random Friday just because you want to make pizza with your lovely grandparents. Now, I know, we are great people. All I mean to say is you can go ahead and tell me what the hell is going on in your life. I may be eighty-five years old, but I give a shit about the repercussions of things. I'll give you the advice you need, no judgment.”

  I nod. “Thanks. I don't know if what I have to say is exactly appropriate.”

  He nods, and clears his throat, before turning to his wife of fifty-five years. “Hey honey, Would you mind going outside and assessing the situation with regards to the weather. I was thinking we could eat outside but I want to make sure there isn’t any rain coming.”

  My grandma turns her ears perking up. “Of course, Earl.”

  She gives my grandfather a kiss, then heads outside.

  “All right Sonny, give it to me straight, no chaser,” he says once we’re alone.

  “Well, see I did a thing with the girl at my company.” I admit.

  “Oh boy. Keep going.” He tossses the tomatoes I’ve chopped into the pot.

  “Yeah, so this is probably kind of crazy, but this girl in my company was writing these fantasies during work hours about a woman and her boss. So I talk to her and turns out there was a bit of a mutual attraction there, to say the least”.

  “Mutual attraction,” he smirks. “And you indulged in this attraction?”

  “That's putting it lightly,” I say trying to figure out how to tell my grandpa that once Brett and I got started, we were banging like rabbits for the last few weeks. I tell him about Kim and how we hooked up one drunken night many years ago but how she still doesn't

  seem to want to go away. And now is threatening Brett and us with going to the press with a picture of Brett in a sexy apron. This scandal of which wouldn’t be great for my career, and it would certainly tarnish Brett's reputation in this small town forever and ever.

  I tell him the story as concisely and best I can. Who knows how long my grandmother will be gone, and I’m just not sure how I would feel about her knowing all of these dirty details.

  “Now back up a second,” he says, holding up his hand. “And you say you were just about to tell this lovely lady that you are falling in love with her.”

  “The words were on the tip of my tongue right before everything went to shit. We didn't even get to enjoy our wine and the steak. My God, that steak was so juicy looking.”

  “All right, fuck the steak,” he says, putting his arms down at his sides. “There’s always another steak, but there isn’t another girl. So if you could do something to get her back what would you do?”

  I finish chopping up the tomato and we put everything into the boiling pot of tomato sauce deliciousness.

  I shrug, feeling a bit frustrated because it just doesn't make any sense.

  “Hey Grandpa, let me ask you something. How the fuck can a guy like me make a billion dollars, but still have no fucking clue what to do when it comes to matters like these?“

  He nods. “Well, I wish I could tell you. Seems like love is an easy thing when you've got it and a hard thing when you don't get it. But if I were you, just make sure she knows that you're serious about the whole commitment thing. Are you?” He raises an eyebrow. “I’ve known you to sow some wild oats.”

  “I am serious. I'm very serious.” I swallow. “I don't think I ever wanted to commit to a girl but and I always thought that just meant that I was a commitment-phobe. I mean, I've dated girls. I’ve dated lots of girls.”

  “Okay, Okay”, he says, “I know, no need to brag. You're a Blackwell, so of course, you have.”

  I chuckle, and a realization passes through me.

  “But I think that the reason I wasn’t wanting to settle down as it had nothing to do with me, it was just I hadn't found the right girl yet.”

  “So, what are you going to do? I mean you got to get her back somehow.”

  I shake my head. “She won't answer my text, she won’t answer my calls. She won’t answer my e-mails.”

  “What is with you and your generation? Everyone is doing these E-Invites and Emails, whatever happened to the good old-fashioned way, where you just talk to them in person?”

  I rub my face, stressed, but knowing he’s right.

  “So I should just go see her. But there's another problem. What do we do? Do I just announce our relationship to the world now? And what about the fact that there is no relationship now?” I shake my head. “Think about it, billionaire businessman hooks up with one of his employees as seen by this picture where she's wearing nothing but an apron. Grandma was right. Mo money mo problems. Where is she anyway? How long does it take to ”

  “She was wearing...nothing but an apron?”

  “That’s your takeaway from my whole rant? Can I have a beer?” I look in their fridge, but I only see milk and juice.

  “Okay, gotta stop. That's, sounds pretty nice. The apron. Makes me think of back in the day wh
en your grandmother and I used to--”

  “Ahem!” I clear my throat as my grandmother walks back into the kitchen, a big smile on her face.

  “I assessed the situation. And the weather seems a little bit cold but I think if we put some sweaters on we’ll be fine out there. It is about sixty degrees.”

  “Well that sounds fun, I mean I think eating outside is always better than eating inside. What do you say Sebastian?”

  “I say let's get this pizza going. It smells delicious!”

  We finish making the pepperoni, as well as a vegetarian pizza because my grandmother is on a big vegetable kick. She's not one-hundred percent vegetarian, but she definitely prefers to eat a lot of vegetables.

  Once the pizza is done, we head outside, and crack a bottle of red wine.

  The wine gets my grandparents going, and my grandmother gets that look on her face. It’s the same look when she told us at Christmas last year all about my father’s first time drinking.

  “So Honey,” my grandmother says, ”Why don't you just tell me about what was going on in the dining room when Earl gave me the secret code to give you two some alone time?”

  I scoff. “Did you just say ‘gave you the secret code?’ What on Earth are you talking about?”

  My grandpa turns to me, “Oh come on Sebastian. Do you really think I really need my wife to go out and check the weather outside? I've been living in this damn town for eighty-five years, I damn well know the weather.” he jokes. “Plus, once the temperature drops below sixty-five, my knees ache like hell.”

  “You sly son of a bitch,” I joke.

  “So honey, why don’t you just tell me what's going on? Sometimes you need a woman's touch you know or a woman's advice, woman's perspective.”

  I hesitate, but the truth is I still don’t have a plan of action for what I should do with Brett. So I give her the PG thirteen rated version of what happened between Brett and me. She laughs when I’m finished.

  “So what exactly are you afraid of here Sebastian? Are you afraid that everyone's going to know that you've been hooking up with this girl. Hooking up, right, that's what the kids are saying these days? Or shacking up?”

  I practically choke on my wine, I'm laughing so hard.

  “Grandma, well, first of all, yes, that's what they're saying these days and be yeah, yes, that's what I am afraid of. I mean, I'm a fucking billionaire. So I won't be hurting for money anytime soon, but like you always said, your reputation is priceless and I think after this gets free, everyone's going to be talking about how I am shady and how Brett Blue is some kind of office girl who gets around. And it’s not like that.”

  “You love her though, right, don't you?”

  I squint. My grandma and the light from the outside spotlight seep onto her face. She's seventy-eight, has grey hair and I'll be damned if she still isn't one of the prettiest women I've ever seen.

  “Yes I do, I love her a lot, and how do you know about that, Grandma?”

  “Well, it's just easy to tell, I can see it in your voice that you care about this girl and if you're not, let me put it this way. You wouldn't ask your grandparents to dinner to ask them for advice about a girl who you wanted nothing to do with. You see what I mean.”

  “I do, but it's, can't you see how it's scandalous, Grandma? She's younger, and she’s my employee. This could be against the policy that we're hooking up and once people find out about this they're going to raise hell, I don't know, Twitter, Instagram. They will try to make me out to be some kind of a villain.”

  “Let me stop you right there,” she says. “So you're going to have some--I think Kanye West likes to call them--‘haters’.”

  A scratch on my brow, “Grandma, you listen to Kanye West? And Notorious B.I.G.? I feel like I don’t even know you.”

  “I've heard a few songs, don't worry about it. Anyways, the point is why do you care about some haters if you're with the girl you love?”

  “She's literally my fantasy girl,” I say. “She’s the dream girl. I don't know how life would go on without her.”

  “Okay,” he says. “I am going to stop you right there. Life will definitely go on with or without her but I like seeing this side of you.”

  My grandma chimes in again taking a big bite of her pizza, swallows it, and then chimes in again. “Look, you’re a great man and you deserve a great woman and all these people can just, you know, they don't like it that you're in love, that's their problem. I mean, that's how I feel. How do you think I fell in love with Earl? I was a waitress, I was eighteen, he was a manager, he was twenty-five. Trust me, the other waitress girls were not happy that I was the one who got the big guy here.”

  “Big guy?” I frown my brow.

  “They used to call me the big guy,” he says. “Hey, don't ask questions, anyway, you got enough advice here; I really want to just kick back and talk some sports, enjoy this pizza. Trust me, your problem is that your problem is a lot smaller than you think it is. You just gotta tell the truth, tell everyone, and do your best to give her everything she wants.”

  “Give her what she wants,” I repeat, thinking about the words as I say them.

  There was only one thing I wasn’t able to give Brett. At least, one thing that stands out.

  I pour the wine and enjoy my pizza. My grandma's advice stays the best with me; sometimes you do just need a woman's perspective. Not to mention her blind faith in me.

  I know exactly what Brett wants. Although it won’t be simple to give it to her.

  I glance at my phone, and I can’t believe who I’m about to call. I love her enough that I’ve got to give her everything she wants. Even if she doesn’t want a future with me.

  “So this girl,” my grandfather adds. “Do you love her?”

  My heart swells at the very mention of ‘girl’ and ‘love’ in the same sentence, and my head fills with images of Brett.

  “Yes,” I nod.

  My grandfather shrugs. “Sometimes you just gotta tell the truth. And then see what happens.”

  Twenty Three - Brett

  Another week passes with no word from Sebastian. I feel stressed in a way, like we have something unresolved.

  Monday, I go into work to find an email invite for a task force meeting later that afternoon. When I arrive at the meeting, Kim stands in front of us; her attitude as brazen as ever. She always seemed a little bit too cocky for my liking and something about her didn't sit right with me. It especially doesn't sit right after what happened on that fateful Friday night a week and a half ago. Before Kim begins to speak, Troy, who is sitting next to me at our table, flashes a smile my way.

  "So, what's up?" he asks simply.

  "Nothing much. Just work work work,” I snicker.

  He leans in and taps me on the shoulder with his pen.

  "Work work work huh? Look, I know there's more to you than work, Brett. And I want to learn about that other side of you sometime, if you'll let me." He squints at me, and I realize, he’s not a bad looking man. Especially the way his dimples look when he smiles.

  Although I’m not going to be doing anything with a man anytime soon. Not after what I’ve been through.

  Before I have a chance to respond to him, Kim starts talking to us.

  "This is a very special week because this weekend, we are going to have a few of us going to Nashville for the annual postharvest conference. Has anyone heard of the fall postharvest conference?" she asks. I look around, not many people raise their hand. I do, because my family are farmers and we know about this sort of thing.

  "Oh Brett, joy, you know about the postharvest conference fantastic. What can you tell us about it?" Her tone is disdainful, as if I don’t have anything intelligent to say on the subject. I speak anyway.

  "I went when I was six years old, with my Dad. It was basically a bunch of farmers hanging out, having some cocktails--which I didn't understand at the time. I just sat by my father and listened to the live music."

  My heart warms thin
king of those old times with my father. The trip to Nashville was one of my first notable memories.

  "Yes that's pretty much correct. So, anyways, we are going to be picking a few of you to go and the instructions have come down from up high. Yes, Mr. Blackwell has instructed who will be going, and there will be three of you." My breath hitches because I haven't seen Sebastian since a week and a half ago. I wonder what he could be doing.

  "The ones who are going to be going are..." she picks up a notepad. "Myself of course. Tro-oy," she says, as though it has two syllables. "Alena" she points at that girl to the side of me, the one who's an accounting specialist. "And ahh, Brett, you'll be going as well." My jaw drops because I was not expecting to be in this job and let alone, put into a task force.

  "Oh hell yeah, Blue." Troy high fives me then grabs my hand and hangs on just an extra second too much. I sigh because Troy is a good looking guy and he's not exactly my type, but that doesn't mean I would never ever consider going on a date with him.

  But not anytime soon.

  "So, ready to have some fun at this conference?" he asks.

  "I guess," I mutter with a little bit of hesitance.

  "Oh, come on Blue, let loose. What, you act like you got a boyfriend or something."

  "Not exactly."

  "Not exactly, huh? So, you have someone but you just don't know if he’s your boyfriend?"

  "Had someone," I correct, and then I realize I’m giving Troy too much information.

  "Well, I think Nashville is a great place for you to have someone else,” he winks.

  We arrive on Friday morning, and spent most of the day at the booth. I talk to lots of farmers about my own experiences growing up as a farmer's daughter. Big surprise, they're fascinated by me. As the day progresses, I enjoy myself but I also realize I need to stay focused on work; which is kind of hard because everyone keeps talking about how Sebastian never misses this particular conference. When I think about Sebastian, my heart flutters; even though he has betrayed me from what I can tell.

  I thought I could trust Sebastian but in the end, who can really trust a billionaire playboy even if he was from your own home town. I do feel bad for coming at him for something that wasn't really his fault, though. I mean, who am I to say "oh, you can't have a threesome with me" well, that's a hard line.