Bad Boss

by Matilda Martel

  He’s not Mr. Rochester. Fairfax Rochester would never treat Jane Eyre this way.

  I should leave and never come back. He doesn’t like me. No matter what I do, I can’t change the way he feels. After eight months of being knocked down, I’m at my wit’s end. I should have known better, but the ridiculous girl inside me wanted to prove my worth.

  I’ve been doing this all my life.

  My parents divorced before I could walk. They loved one another but sucked at being married. Throughout my childhood, they fought like cats and dogs. And no matter how much people told me, it’s not your fault, a part of me always felt like they could have made things work, if it wasn’t for me. I saw photos of them before I came along. They were happy. Something about becoming parents ruined their relationship.

  Neither remarried. Neither ever fell in love again. I tried to make up for it. I tried to be good. I worked hard. I got good grades, excelled in music and sports, but nothing ever made things better. Nothing ever made up for the breakdown of their marriage. All my efforts were hollow.

  I promised myself I’d stop trying to please other people. It never works. But I convinced myself that closing this deal would change things for good. He’d see the error of his ways and recognize all my hard work.

  I’m such a fool.

  The solution is simple. Distasteful but simple.

  I need to swallow my pride and take Clive’s job offer. Sure, he’s handsy, overbearing and needy, but I know he cares and won’t make my life a living hell. It’s more money, a bigger office and carte blanche to do as I please. Why am I still here?

  This is lunacy.

  I have a new message. Fuck. It’s from Julie, Mueller’s executive assistant. He wants to see me in twenty minutes.

  I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Exhaling slowly, I bring my forehead down on my desk and sigh with relief.

  It’s over. I’m being fired. I feel it in my bones.

  I would panic, but I know I’ll be fine. I’ll be better than fine. Maybe this ache in my heart will finally go away.

  He must have known all morning. This must have been in the works long before I brought in Reynolds & Markham. They had to squeeze one more month of work from my big dumb ass. As always, I’ve worked diligently while my co-workers spent their days chit chatting about Thanksgiving plans and winter vacations. I haven’t had a single day off in eight months.

  I think I’ll take time off now. I really need it.

  I glance at my monitor and cringe when I see the near perfect copy I’ve been editing all morning. My hand hovers over the mouse and glides it a few inches to the Delete button. Click.

  Next, I click on my emails. Select All. Delete. Click.

  Files. Select All. Delete. Click.

  Contacts. Select All. Delete. Click.

  Fifteen more minutes to go.

  No. Fuck him. He’ll see me now.

  Five

  Nova

  Adrenaline pumps through my veins. My mind spins. My heart races. This bastard isn’t going to make me feel small one second longer. I’m taking my power back and then I’m shoving it down his throat. Julie is nowhere in sight. She must be on break. The hell with protocol. I’m not waiting to be announced.

  Gathering every ounce of courage my trembling body can hold, I straighten my shoulders, brush out my hair with my fingers, narrow my eyes and swing open his goddamn door.

  His head pops up. “Miss Rigby?”

  “You want to see me?” My harsh voice takes him by surprise. He looks past me, probably wondering why Julie let me in and then checks his watch.

  “I know I’m early, but time is precious. Wouldn’t you agree?” I knit my brow, cross my arms and stand in front of his desk. A flush creeps from from beneath his dress shirt through his neck and towards his cheeks. His icy stare softens.

  “I would.” He nods, flustered.

  “Why did you want to see me? What perceived injury, slight, or catastrophe have you conjured up today?” I glare into his stunned expression.

  “Excuse me?” He tries to interrupt me, but I’ve had it. Simon Mueller has eight months of abuse coming and Nova Rigby is finally punching back.

  “You heard me! I know why you want to see me. What reason did you finally decide on? Tardiness? Come on, Mueller. What do you have?” I swing my arm and mess up his precious desk. He jumps back in his chair and stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  Maybe, I have. It definitely feels like it.

  “Miss Rigby, that’s not why I wanted to see you.” He waves a folder, and I yank it out of his hands. He creases his brow, unsure of what I’m doing.

  I examine it and toss it back. Papers fly. He tries to catch them and misses.

  “My employee file. I see. Well, don’t bother. I QUIT!” I clench my fists and cross my arms at my chest. He looks intimidated. I didn’t expect this.

  “Quit? Miss Rigby. Nova, I wasn’t firing you.” His eyes grow wide. He looks bewildered. Confused. Perfect time for a throat punch.

  Lucky for him, I’m not a violent person.

  “Save it, jackass. I don’t know why you’ve had it out for me, but I deserved better.” I raise my hand to keep him from answering.

  “I work hard from the moment I arrive to the moment I leave, which is often long after you’ve left the building. I give up trying to please you. Nothing will ever be good enough. You’re nothing but a miserable old man who amuses himself at the expense of others. The hell with this job and the hell with you.” I spit out my venom and watch his mouth gape open.

  Gnashing my teeth, I growl and screech as I throw my employee badge at his red face.

  “So long, asshole.” I twirl on my heels and march out of his office.

  “Nova Rigby. Don’t you dare walk out that door before I tell you why I asked to see you.” His raspy baritone makes me quiver in my Mary-Jane stilettos. I stiffen but refuse to look at him.

  “I didn’t want to fire you. I wanted to congratulate you and offer you a promotion.” His voice softens.

  Shit. Promotion?

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “Oh. Really?” I twirl back to face him with my hands at my waist. “How convenient.”

  “Convenient?” He frowns and steps around his desk.

  “You can say that now that I’ve quit and let you have it. You come out smelling like roses and I look insane. Figures.” I cross my arms and tap my foot.

  What difference does it make now? There’s no way he’s promoting me after what I said.

  He struts towards me, raises an eyebrow and mimics my pose. “Well?”

  “Well, what?” I snap. “I’m not apologizing. You are incredibly rude to me. You know you are. I know you are. Everyone on this floor knows Mueller hates Nova.”

  “Call me Simon.” His lip quirks up in a half-smile.

  My jaw drops. “I’m sorry. I meant, Simon hates Nova.” I roll my eyes and turn to leave.

  He grabs my arm, steps closer and pulls my back against his chest. “I don’t hate you. Forgive me for being rude. I deserved everything you said. I deserve worse. I promise, I’ll do better from now on.”

  I turn to face him. Standing tall, he looms over me. His dazzling blue eyes swallow me whole.

  I open my mouth to speak, then shut it tight. I’m speechless. Why is he looking at me like this? What’s happening?

  My legs shake with unease. Butterflies swirl in my tummy. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, but the scent of his earthy, musky cologne awakens my senses and brings me back to reality.

  “I’m promoting you to Vice-President of Social Media. You can choose your successor and expand your team. Come to lunch with me and I’ll explain my behavior.”

  “Vice-President? But.. but that’s not a thing. We’re under Marketing.” My eyes search the room. This seems impossible. There must be a hidden camera somewhere. Someone is having a big laugh at my expense.

  “Not anymore. It’s a new position. You do far too much of Ken’s work and shou
ld be your own department. I know I quibbled about your age, but I was just being a dick. You’ve earned it.” He tilts his head as his heavenly eyes meet mine.

  The air sizzles and slowly, my anger melts.

  “Will you accept?” He asks as he steps away and shuts the door.

  Eight months of slights and wounds bubble up at once. I cast my eyes to the floor, hoping he won’t see them fill with tears. The beat of my heart slows and the pain fizzles away. When my lip trembles, I panic and turn away from him.

  Oh please, please don’t cry in front of the jerk.

  “Miss Rigby. Nova?” He places his hands on my shoulders and holds me still. When I reach up to wipe a tear, he clasps my hand… strangely. I’m too overcome to analyze what it means. I’m too focused on forcing the tears streaming down my cheeks to somehow defy gravity and return to my eyes.

  Traitors!

  Out of the blue, he brings my hand to his soft lips and kisses it, gently.

  “Please, forgive me. I’ve never hated you. It’s quite the opposite.”

  I freeze. What’s happening?

  My eyes flare open. My jaw drops. As I try to make a sound, ask a question, do or say anything to get to the bottom of his weird behavior, he stuns me. Without a word, Simon Mueller swoops in and presses his warm lips to mine.

  Oh my god.

  My hands land on his hard chest. I gasp for air and inhale his breath, taste his tongue and feel the electricity surge between us. My fingers press against him, pretending to push him away, but he grabs my wrists, tugs me closer and crushes my breasts against his pecs.

  This is insanity. I hate Simon. He’s not supposed to affect me this way. I should slap him. Yell at him. Tell him I quit after all. But I can’t. It’s possible all those things will make him stop kissing me and it’s been so long since anyone’s kissed me like this.

  That’s not true. No one’s ever kissed me this way.

  “Simon, what are you doing? We can’t…” My pleas sound fake. They are fake. I’ll kill him if he stops.

  “Nova, this doesn’t have anything to do with your promotion.” He pulls away as he speaks, then devours my lips with one punishing kiss after another.

  Punish me. I insulted you. Let me have it as good as I gave.

  My heart beats wildly. My pulse jumps to a mile a minute. I can’t breathe. I don’t want to breathe. He can breathe for both of us.

  “My promotion?” I question. My mind’s in a daze.

  “Yes. It has nothing to do with my feelings.” He groans against my lips, savoring this unnatural union. I shrug his jacket off his shoulders and run my hands down the grooves of his long, sinewy back.

  “Feelings? You have feelings?”

  “I have lots of feelings.” He lifts me off the floor and carries me towards his desk.

  The look in his eyes, the hunger in his voice and the feel of his hands on my ass, startle me back to my senses. I want him, my body yearns to feel him, but this isn’t right. I need answers.

  “What feelings? Why have you been so rude to me?” I’m ruining the moment, but I don’t care.

  He takes my hand. “I’m sorry I bothered you about insignificant things. You do good work. I know you stay late. You're the hardest worker I have. I just wanted an excuse to dislike you.”

  His words sting. He was doing it all on purpose. “Why? Don’t you know how terrible you made me feel?”

  He nods. A look of remorse clouds his face and his soft blue eyes meet mine. “Have you ever fallen for someone you weren’t sure was right for you?”

  I shake my head. “I’ve never been in love.”

  He inches closer. “Me neither. Not even close. Not ‘til now.”

  I tense and lean back. “Simon, you don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t know me. You’ve never taken time to know me. Maybe, you shouldn’t say anymore.” I scoot away and fight the urge to punch him. Punch him hard.

  Somewhere sensitive. Somewhere he won’t forget.

  He stays quiet for a few minutes. Probably regretting his words and salvaging his pride. This jerk’s not in love with me. I told him off. I’m probably the first woman who’s ever raised her voice and mauled his precious ego.

  I’ll need to quit. For real this time. If he was a dick before, I can only imagine how he acts after I reject him. Damn it. Why does this keep happening to me? I’m not that cute. Where was all this attention when I was in high school and desperate for a prom date? Where the hell was all the action everyone promised would be waiting for me at NYU?

  Nowhere. It was nowhere.

  And now that Nova Veronica Rigby is trying to be a serious businesswoman, a mature adult with goals and plans, they’re crawling out of the sewers like giant rats and scaring the hell out of me. That’s a horrible analogy. He’s a handsome guy but not all those rats are ugly. Remember the one who became an internet sensation for eating pizza on the subway steps?

  Fine, I’ll drop it. And he will, too. Men like Mueller don’t beg. It’s not in their nature.

  “You’re wrong. I do know you.” He grips my hips and makes me face him.

  Oops, I spoke too soon.

  Six

  Simon

  Don’t back down jackass. You had no problem being rude. She deserves to see you make an ass of yourself.

  “No, you don’t.” She whispers. Her green eyes peek at me from beneath her lashes. She shudders but never pulls away. Perhaps, she’s in shock. Maybe, she’s receptive. My heart flutters as I step closer, desperate to feel her in my arms but fearful I’ll make her angry.

  Take it slow. She can’t turn it off and on so quick. No one can.

  The possibilities are endless. This could be the start of everything. I’ve been giving this girl a hard time for nothing. She broke me without even trying. She gave me a verbal thrashing and I’m harder than ever. This isn’t normal. Is it? I should be mad. But I’ve never been more turned on in my life.

  My lady has brass balls. She’s not putting up with my shit. Good.

  “Yes, I do. Your middle name is Veronica.”

  She roll her eyes. “Lucky guess. You were holding my employment file. It’s in there. That’s not knowing me.” She tugs away but I keep her hand encased in mine.

  “You look like your Nana when she was your age. You’re the only one of who got her red hair. She calls you her mini-me. Everyone thought she looked like Rita Hayworth, but you’re prettier than both. Much prettier.”

  She gasps. “Nana. How do you know my Nana?”

  “You love Harry Potter. You’ve read all the books and seen all the movies. You even have a Ginny Weasley wand in your office from your last trip to Universal Studios. An odd choice, but I guess it’s a red hair thing.” I ignore the look of horror on her face and continue.

  “You grew up just outside the city, in the suburbs. Your parents are Lila and Jeffrey. No siblings. You majored in Communications at NYU, but you wanted to major in Music. Someone talked you out of it junior year. You love dogs but you’re too busy to have one, so you volunteer at the animal shelter on weekends when you’re able. I’m sorry I’ve kept you so busy you’ve missed the last month. You’ve never had a serious boyfriend. Your best friend is a girl named Glenda. She moved to Connecticut when she married. You were the maid of honor and caught the bouquet.” I take a breath and she waves at me to stop talking.

  “Have you been stalking me online?” She frowns and wrinkles her nose.

  “Yes. Daily. I always tell myself I’ll stop and the next day I’m at it again. I know it would have been easier to treat you right, ask you out and get to know you over the course of the last eight months, but I was a stubborn shit and kept think everything I felt for you would go away. It didn’t. I don’t believe it ever will.” I drop her hand and rub my forehead.

  This isn’t going well.

  “That’s not the important stuff. I think about you every day. I fantasize about you every night. Always. Since we met.” I bring her closer and line the angle of her
jaw with my finger. Lifting her chin, I stare at her lips.

  Her eyes grow wide. She’s waiting for more.

  “You’re busier than you should be because you constantly volunteer to help people with their projects.” I brush some hair off her face.

  “You edit copy that’s not yours. Pick up coffee for your team and remember everyone’s birthday with a homemade birthday cake. You take things home and work late because your piece of shit boss made you think he didn’t value your work. And it wasn’t that. It was never that.”

  Clutching her chest, she mumbles, “It wasn’t?”

  I swallow and whisper. My voice cracks as I speak. “No, I always knew you were good. But I couldn’t think straight. I’m crazy about you, Nova. Give me a chance to prove it to you. Let me prove myself. Will you come to lunch with me? We can talk. I want to know more about you.”

  She steps away and nervously wrings her tiny hands. Her voice shakes as she lifts her finger and points at the door. “I need to get my purse.”

  I smile, relieved she’s willing to hear me out. “Let’s stop by your office before we leave.” Unwilling to let her out of my sight, I escort her down the hall. I shouldn’t be alone with her. I’m hard and horny. This isn’t a great combination when she wants to take things slow.

  She grabs her purse and I follow her to the elevators. Her hips sway. Her tight ass taunts me with every step. My heart beats faster. My palms sweat. I need to control my urges. She deserves a real courtship and I want to prove to her that I can be the man she needs.

  We’ll talk. We’ll eat. We’ll make plans.

  What are the chances she’s receptive to marriage?

  Marriage? I mean dinner

  Seven

  Nova

  Simon Mueller has the hots for me. He fantasizes about me. He stalks me online. And I’m almost positive he had a hard-on over lunch. What’s he thinking? That was a classy place.