“Ashlei,” he says, eyes on his folder and not on me, one leg crossed over the other like it’s just a casual day in the office and I’m not about to completely expose us. “Why don’t you start?”
Kimberly pauses, already half out of her chair. “Sir, I thought I could—”
“Thank you, Mr. Church,” I say louder, cutting her off as I stand.
She sits back down with a murderous glare locked on me as I clear my throat, shuffling through the papers I wrote notes on. But once she’s sitting again, she smirks, as if she knows there’s nothing I can say to get myself out of the hole I dug.
And honestly, she very well could be right.
But I hold onto the small, feather-light streak of hope I built my plan on, and I tuck my notes away in my binder.
“I had some notes,” I say, gesturing to the pile of paper I just tucked away. “I had all these things I wanted to say, but the truth is there really aren’t any words for all this company — and you all — have done for me.”
I’m met with smiles, Mykayla even giving a soft awww as she clutches her heart.
“The truth is, I was in a dark place before I started my internship last semester. And throwing myself into event planning, into a company and a task that makes me happy, it saved me in more ways than I can ever explain. I turned everything around — my attitude, my life — and I found purpose again.”
I glance at Brandon, just long enough to catch his understanding eyes, and I hold onto the burst of energy they give me as I clear my throat again.
“You know, what I love most about this company is that we’re not really like an office,” I say. “We’re a family.”
I scan the faces of all the people around me, some I know well and others who I’ve only just met. Regardless of how well know them, my statement is true — the Okay, Cool crew is a family, and the moment you start for them, you’re part of it.
“We work hard together. We celebrate together when one of us succeeds, and we buck up and pitch in to help when one of us is down. We don’t turn our backs on each other, and we don’t try to climb over one another.” I direct my gaze at Kimberly with that point. “No matter what, we always see that the team is bigger than the individual, and I truly believe that’s why we continue to win account after account, and award after award.”
“Hear, hear!” my manager says, and everyone chuckles.
My hands tremble a little, and I fold them together in front of me, willing the bad ass, confident bitch who just stood in Brandon’s office to stay with me a little longer.
“As a woman in this industry,” I say. “Well, in any industry, really — I have been faced with a lot of choices.” I laugh a little, lifting my brows on a joke. “My mother’s voice is loud in my head every time I step off those elevators. ‘Don’t be too firm, they’ll call you a bitch. Don’t be too emotional, they’ll say you can’t handle the pressure. Don’t wear clothes that are too masculine or baggy, you want to command attention. Don’t wear clothes that are too tight, or too low cut, they’ll say you’re sleeping your way to the top.’”
The room grows quiet as soon as the word bitch slips from my mouth, and I feel the solemn weight overtake us all. A few women nod as I speak, a few others smile knowingly.
Kimberly just glares at me.
“And we’re not alone, you know? Guys,” I say, gesturing to the men in the room. “I know you face your own kind of hell, your own kind of judgment, especially when it comes to being a man, as my father likes to say.” I shrug. “There’s no room for anxiety or feelings when you’re supposed to be dominating everything with masculinity and power every day.”
“Preach, honey,” Mario, one of our other interns, says. He snaps with the words, which lightens the mood a bit, earning a chorus of laughter from the room.
I smile, but my stomach rolls as I take one last breath and say what I need to say.
“That judgment,” I start. “That expectation is what makes it hard for me to tell you what I’m about to.”
Mykayla eyes me curiously, leaning forward in her chair as the rest of the room falls silent again.
“Mr. Church and I are in a relationship.”
I hold my head high as those words tumble out, my shoulders back, spine straight. And I don’t blink or close my eyes or let any tinge of color shade my cheeks.
But the whole room goes nuts.
“What?!”
“Oh, my God.”
“No way,” I hear Mykayla’s voice mutter, almost a whisper. I glance at her with an apology in my eyes as Kimberly stands up.
“I knew it! I knew it all along!” She smiles, pointing her finger up at the ceiling. “I was going to tell you all. I saw them together. In his office!”
That earns another gasp, all eyes turning to Brandon, who just sits calmly at the head of the table. His eyes find mine, the worry there thicker than before as he holds up both of his hands to silent the room again.
“It’s true,” I say, voice loud, commanding the attention back to me. “Kimberly did see us, and she did threaten to out us. She’s been using it as blackmail, as she is so proud to claim.”
That shifts the judgmental eyes to her, and she sits back down slowly, a cowardly shade of red on her neck.
“Because, come on,” I say with a scoff. “What a stereotype, am I right? The CEO hooking up with the intern. Classic.” I press my hand to my chest. “I clearly must be a whore, one who doesn’t offer anything to this company other than how far my legs can spread. And, obviously,” I add, pointing to Brandon next. “Mr. Church must be a mysoginistic, horny predator taking advantage of the women who work underneath him.”
That shuts the room completely up, and I watch as one by one, eyes start to turn from judgmental to ashamed, from angry to sad.
“Right?” I press. “There’s no way we could have actually have found a genuine connection, or that what we’ve built together has been completely outside of the realm of where we work, and what position we hold. I mean, that would make us human.” I scoff again. “How ridiculous, right?”
Mykayla frowns, her eyes falling to where her hands lay in her lap.
It seems no one else can look at me anymore, either.
“Joanne,” I say, calling on one of the women in accounting. “Has Mr. Church ever made a pass at you?”
Her eyes bulge. “What? Of course not.” She shakes her head. “Mr. Church has always been nothing but professional and caring toward me.”
“How about you, Valerie?” I ask next, pointing to a younger associate from marketing. “Surely, he’s cornered you, offered you a raise for a blow job, right?”
Brandon raises a brow in warning of my language, but he doesn’t understand that this is how the punches hit hardest.
Valerie shakes her head. “No. Never.” She sinks a little lower in her chair. “In fact, he helped me once, when I was behind on rent. He gave me an advance and let me pay it back over time.” She smiles at him then. “He didn’t ask for a single thing in return.”
I nod, tracing the other female faces in the room.
“Can any woman, or man, in here stand and say that Mr. Church has made them ever feel uncomfortable? That he’s ever approached them with sexual intention or tried to use his power in a way to get what he wants?”
Silence.
Kimberly’s eyes sweep the room, too, only hers are shaded with horror, like she’s watching her entire plan burn down like a flimsy house.
“And what about me?” I ask, my eyes glossing over a bit. I inhale a stiff breath and hold those fucking tears back like a boss bitch. “Have I done nothing valuable for this company, for any of you?”
More silence, heads hanging, eyes averted.
“I know this is shocking, and Mr. Church and I both realized when we first got involved that it was a dangerous idea. We tried to stop, several times, but the fact of the matter is that you can’t tell love to live within the boundaries you draw for it.” My heart skips at the fact that I
mentioned the L word, but I don’t let anyone dwell on it — least of all Brandon. “We care about each other, and because we work in an office of family, we didn’t let the fact that he is my boss stop that.
“Now, you can say what you want about me, about us, and you can call me all the names in the book if that will make you feel better. You can cast your stones at me, and I promise, I will not cast them back.” I swallow, sniffing back the threat of emotion. “But I am not ashamed of the work I’ve done here, nor am I ashamed of the way I feel for a man who, just like this job, saved me in more ways than he’ll ever know.”
My heart surges with that, like the power of that simple truth is enough, no matter what happens next.
“I want to apologize to all of you,” I continue. “But not for how I feel for Mr. Church, or how he feels for me. I apologize for hiding it, for not respecting you all enough to tell you before we were caught and threatened. I should have come to you sooner, and for that, I am sorry.”
I try to capture Mykayla’s eyes again, but she refuses to look up, and I’m left staring at the only person in the room who can stand to look at me.
Brandon.
“I am a good woman,” I say. “And he is a good man. And we are human. I hope that our family will understand that, but if you don’t, there’s no need for any drama. I will quietly pack my things and I will leave, without even one word of argument, if any of you are not okay with what I’ve told you.”
“And I will step down as CEO, and revert to being only a silent owner,” Brandon chimes in.
I balk, his statement not part of our plan. “Brandon, you can’t—”
“I played just as big a role in this as you did, Ashlei,” he says, eyes hard on me as he stands. His chest is broad, stance powerful as he refastens his blazer and straightens his shoulders. “And if you have to lose something you love, then I should, too. Just because you’re a woman, you do not own the fault. Just because you’re a woman, you do not go down in this alone.”
I’ve never wanted to fuck him more in my life.
Goddamn, feminism is sexy.
I smile, eyes watering more than I want to allow as I watch him stand up for me — literally.
With nothing more for either of us to say, we stand defenseless in front of our peers, waiting. The room is quiet, nothing breaking the silence other than the occasional shuffling of papers or cough. After what feels like a weighted hour, Mykayla finally stands — though she’s just barely taller than the woman sitting next to her even when she’s on her feet.
“I just want to say something,” she says, eyes on the table before she lifts them to me.
I hold my breath, preparing myself for the verbal lashing. She’s my friend, and I left her in the dark. She’s my friend, and in a way, I betrayed her. Not only did I not tell her, but I mishandled her trust, and I know a simple apology would never fix that.
Mykayla shakes her head, her brows furrowed. But then, she sort of smiles.
“That was the bravest, most amazing act of womanhood and humanity that I have ever witnessed in person.”
My chest tightens, and I cover my mouth with one hand, stifling my need to cry.
“Ashlei, you are such an amazing woman. You’re powerful, and courageous, and you get shit done and you balance a million different things on your plate better than I can balance three.” A few soft chuckles as Mykayla sweeps the room with her hand. “There isn’t a single person here who could say that you are nothing but a whore or whatever, because it’d be a bold-faced lie. You have done more as an intern than most of us have done with years of being fully employed.”
I smile, dropping my hand back to clasp with the other one in front of me. “Thank you, Mykayla.”
“And, Mr. Church,” she says, turning to him next. “Excuse my language, but to be frank — whatever gets your dick wet is none of our business.”
My jaw pops open as Brandon fights to hide a smile, and the mood in the room lifts again, notch by notch. More people lift their eyes, a few of them smiling, a few laughing.
“You are the best boss any of us could ask for. You’re here every day, usually longer hours than we are, and you do whatever it takes to make sure your work family is okay. No, more than okay. You’re our friend first and our boss second, and you run one hell of a company, if I do say so myself.”
There’s a chorus of head nods and soft claps to that.
“So, no. I’m not going to pass judgment on you. I appreciate you telling us, even though there honestly is no reason you should ever feel like you have to.” She turns to Kimberly then. “And any woman wanting to out you for the disgusting reasons you just listed is the only person, in my opinion, who should have to answer for their actions. We should be building each other up and moving forward,” she adds, eyes hard. “Not tearing each other down and setting us all back fifty years.”
The women in the room cheer at that, a few of them clapping Mykayla on the back as she sits down again, a shit-eating grin on her face.
Kimberly just shrinks down farther into her chair.
“So, are we done here?” Mykayla adds. “We still have five other interns to hear from and this girl right here is ready for lunch.”
A few more laughs ring out, and Brandon and I smile at each other before glancing around the room. No one else speaks, just smiles and nods, letting us know we’re still in the family.
Not a single stone is cast.
Kimberly swipes her binder from the table, hurrying out of the room as Brandon and I take our seat again. She doesn’t look up from the floor until she’s out the door, and though I should feel like I’ve won, I can’t help but feel bad for her, too.
Meh, she’ll be fine.
Glancing at his folder, Brandon folds his hands together on the table, sliding me one last smile before he addresses the room.
“Alright, then,” he says. “Who’s next?”
“I’ll just be a second,” I say, hopping out of Brandon’s convertible and jogging toward the apartment building. I pop up the steps with a smile on my face, rapping my knuckles on the door.
As I wait, I run over my plan in my head. There are only a couple weeks of classes left, and now that I have my drama handled, I can finally start being a better friend to my sisters.
Starting with Skyler.
The poor girl has been moping around the sorority house like a lost kitten for weeks now, and I can’t sit back and let her be sad anymore without trying to fix it. Something happened with her and Kip — though she won’t tell us what — and I’m determined to make them get out of their own way.
God knows they fought hard enough to be together in the first place, it doesn’t make sense for them to throw it away now.
The door swings open, and Kip doesn’t show a single ounce of emotion or any kind of reaction when he sees it’s me. He’s sweating profusely, likely from another run — he’s been running all over campus since the break up — and his hair is a damp, blond, ratted nest. I trace his features, noting how hollow his cheeks are, how his eyes sag, the skin beneath them shiny and purple like he’s been in a fist fight. He’s got a full chin of stubble, and as soon as the door opened, I could smell him.
And not in a good way.
“You look like shit,” I say, letting myself inside his apartment. He’s still standing at the door as I survey the space — dishes piling up in the sink, clothes strewn everywhere, trash overflowing. “So does your apartment.”
“What do you want, Ashlei?” he asks when the front door is closed again. “You already go all of Skyler’s things out of here.”
I nod, eyes softening a little as I take him in again. Poor sap. Skyler sent me back the day after she’d left his apartment in a hurry. She wouldn’t tell me why she couldn’t go back, and I tried my best not to pry. Still, he looked shitty that morning, his questions aimed at me like bullets as I gathered up her things. But now? He just looks… void. Void of light. Void of happiness.
Void of life.
“I came to check on you,” I say with a sigh. “I figured if you were half as bad as Skyler, you’d probably need me to force you into the shower. Which is kind of what it’s looking like right now,” I add, eyeing his dingy clothes.
Kip glances down, but doesn’t respond.
“Kade says he never sees you anymore,” I continue. “And you won’t talk to anyone. You can’t hold yourself up in here, Kip.”
Kip blinks, but other than that simple, automatic body reaction, there’s nothing.
“I can do whatever I need to do to get through this, Ashlei,” he finally says, voice hoarse as he gestures to his messy apartment. “And this is part of the process.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand, what exactly happened between you two? Skyler won’t talk about it, and you’re both acting like you still want to be together… so why not just be together?”
Kip swallows, his eyes sad. “It’s complicated.”
“Sounds familiar,” I murmur with a roll of my eyes. “Listen, the KKB formal is on Saturday. Come with me.”
That gets a reaction.
Kip cocks a brow, his eyes wide. “Are you serious?”
“Not like that,” I clarify. “I know Skyler wants you there, but she’s not going to ask. Maybe if you come with me, you can talk to her and figure this shit out. You’re both making yourselves sick, and it’s not healthy.”
He crosses his arms, seemingly considering the offer. “Is she going with anyone?”
“Bear,” I answer. “As friends.”
I know I’m overstepping, putting my nose deep in Skyler’s business when she asked me to just drop it. But, I know my girl, and she’s in love with this kid. She’s trying not to be, trying to just let him go and be the tough bad ass she always has been, but she can’t help it. She’s head over heels, and from what I can tell, he feels the same about her.
If I’ve learned anything, it’s that life is too short to let stupid games get in the way of love.
Kip is quiet, thinking. After a moment, he shifts his weight, eyes finding mine. “It’s Saturday?”
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