by Lila Younger
Tonight though, I just want to be home, sinking into a tub of bubbles. With a bottle of wine. Maybe two. Definitely not out at this microbrewery. I’m wearing a red dress that’s definitely too fancy for this place. This was a jeans and flannel kind of a place. The yellowy dim lights make it hard to see anything but the game on the flatscreens, and the blasting music makes it impossible to have a conversation. We’re at a rickety table that hasn’t seen a dishrag in months. I’m terrified to put my elbows on it. I don’t know why she’s picked this place of all places to discuss her wedding plans. It’s out of the way, and all I can think about is whether I want to brave public transit in an hour or spring for a cab. I take a sip of my pint. I know nothing about beer, except that I’ve yet to find one I really like.
“So bring me up to date on things,” I say. I’m the maid of honor of course, but my duties, the bachelorette party, the shower, etc. come later down the line. She only got engaged a month ago after all, so I figure I have at least a few months before I have to start looking into anything.
“It’s awful!” Steph sighs. “I really want to go with something more relaxed, like this cute little barn an hour outside of the city. Lots of lace and burlap and candles, that sort of a thing. But Michael’s mom insists on having it in a hotel or something. She doesn’t want to get cow poop on her dress she says, even though I keep telling her it’s an actual wedding venue.”
“And what does Michael say?”
She rolls her eyes and takes a swig of her beer. She ordered some kind of dark beer that looks bitter and earthy. It must be good though, because she’s already drank half. That or her future mother-in-law really is that difficult.
“He says that he’s not going to get between us. The thing is, his mom is helping pay for a third of the wedding so she thinks she’s got veto power.”
“Steph, of course she thinks that. She’s paying for it. Why don’t you just cut out fifty people from the guest list and say no thanks to her money?”
“I wish I could, but then I’d have to answer to my mom.”
Poor Steph. She’s been dating Michael since we went to university together. You’d think that after six years his mom would be used to her by now, but she’s still convinced that there’s a chance Michael will change his mind. The two of them are truly a perfect couple, equally blonde, tall and gorgeous. They’re going to have sickeningly cute babies. I feel a little pang of jealousy that I force way down my gut. It’s not Steph’s fault she found her soul mate during frosh week while I’ve been dating one loser after another.
Our food finally arrives: A cheeseburger and fries for me, and a grilled chicken burger for Steph. She’s one of those people who are perpetually saying their on a diet, while sabotaging it. She says she means it this time with the wedding and all, but I’ll believe it when I see it. Not that she needs to be. Her Marilyn Monroe-like figure attracts tons of attention, all of it good from the male species.
“This is good,” I say, my mood improving slightly from the infusion of salt and fat. I eye the dry chicken breast in her burger. “How’s yours?”
“Fine,” she says, but then I see her chug down her mouthful with beer. Definitely dry.
“How’d you hear about this place again?”
Instead of answering, her eyes see something over my shoulder, following it across the room for a second before coming back to me. Oh no. She has that look again. That look that says ‘hey I think there’s a cute guy for you’. It’s stepped up quite a bit since she got engaged. I think maybe she feels guilty that I still haven’t found someone to have a decent relationship with. I try to tell her that at twenty four I still have plenty of time, but she doesn’t listen.
“Steph,” I say holding up my hand. “No. Not this again.”
She leans in, ignoring my words.
“Chelsea, he’s tall, at least six foot, so you can wear heels unlike the last time. Sorry about that by the way, but he looked very cute while he was still sitting. And oooo, he’s got really nice wavy hair. Five o’clock shadow, and he’s wearing a red and black plaid shirt and jeans. Quick, he’s moving towards the bar! If you look off to the side you can catch a glimpse of him.”
“Steph!” I hiss. “What did I tell you? I’m not interested in dating right now. Stop looking at him like that. He’s going to feel you staring.”
“People can’t actually feel someone staring at them,” she says, swiping one of my fries. Good thing I’d already foreseen that and ordered extra.
“Doesn’t matter. Stop looking before he catches you.”
She huffs but thankfully looks away at last. I sneak a quick look, and not because I’m curious. I just want to make sure the guy hasn’t discovered Steph’s gawking. He is sort of cute, I guess, but he’s already headed back to his table with a handful of drinks so there’s no chance of me making contact.
“I don’t understand why you won’t give anyone a try,” she says. “Don’t tell me you’re still trying to sleep with Brandon?”
I choke on my fry. I thump on my chest a few times and gulp down some beer. Why oh why had I told her about my devastatingly handsome boss?
“No,” I manage to gasp at last. “Besides, I think he’s got a girlfriend. He asked me if I thought that a girl would enjoy going to the jazz festival this summer. Asked me to get two tickets.”
I try to sound as casual as I can while I tell her, but I don’t think I do a very good job, because she’s making sympathetic noises. It gutted me too. I was almost positive that he was single, because he hadn’t asked me to order him flowers or anything for Valentine’s Day. But maybe a classy man like him would go above and beyond flowers? Maybe he’d gone jewelry shopping for her. Maybe he’d found someone in the two months since then. He hadn’t seemed any happier than usual... My rambling thoughts are interrupted when my ears pick up something Steph is saying.
“Well, I guess we didn’t need to come all this way after all huh?”
I frown at her.
“What are you talking about?”
“I didn’t pick this place because it was convenient that’s for sure,” she grumbles, oblivious to my growing annoyance. “I just thought maybe we’d run into your boss here.”
“You what?” My voice is pitching up. It’s a good thing that the music is so loud because I’m pretty sure I’m about to yell at Steph.
She shrugs like it’s no big deal. I try to calm my breathing but I’m failing terribly. Is he here? He can’t be!
“I thought maybe it would be nice to see him out of the office you know? Then maybe it wouldn’t be so hard for you to talk to him a little.” She finally sees how pissed I am. “Oh come on Chel! You’ve got it so bad for him. You haven’t dated anyone since you started working for him a year ago. So I looked him up on Facebook, and it turns out that one of my co-workers is his neighbor or something, so his profile is wide open for me. Found out that he likes to come to this bar, and I figured we could give it a shot.”
Steph leans back into her chair, crossing her arms. She’s pleased, I can tell, which only makes me more mad.
“Okay, firstly, I can’t believe you did this. What if he thinks I’m stalking him or something? And second, you’ve been able to see his profile this whole time and you haven’t told me?!”
“Relax,” she says. “We can just pretend we were in the area shopping or something. There’s a mall about a block away. Oh hey... I didn’t think it’d work this quickly though.”
“WHAT?” I almost yell, gripping onto her arm. I’m probably ruining the pretty silk material with my greasy fingers but I don’t care right now. I lean in close to her. “Did you say he’s here?!”
“Yeah,” she says, utterly calm. “I think that’s him over there waiting for a table. Want me to go say hi? We do have friends in common.”
I shake my head furiously. No way. The last thing I need is Steph going over there and talking to him, because I know that it’s not just small talk with her. She’ll ask all kinds of questions,
and try to set me up on the spot. It only took one humiliation like that before I learned that putting Steph in front of anyone I like is a bad idea. She means well, but subtle is not her middle name.
Just in case Steph’s wrong, I sneak a look towards the front door.
Oh my God. It is him. Brandon McAllister. My gaze is magnetically drawn to him every time, but even I can’t deny that having a relationship with my boss is wrong. It has to be professional all the way, even if that’s the last thing I want. Of course, Steph’s already told me that I should go for it. Tonight he is wearing dark, faded jeans and a plain black shirt that strains across his wide shoulders and chest, revealing the toned body that is usually covered by his suit jackets. He looks so good looking that it was intimidating sometimes. I want to lick every inch of him.
Then I catch sight of something that makes my heart drop to my stomach. His dark eyes, usually serious, are crinkled and smiling at the girl beside him. A lover? A friend? I hope it’s a friend. There’s another guy there too, who taps on the girls shoulder and says something. She gives his arm a quick squeeze and I let out the breath I was holding. Definitely not Mr. McAllister’s girlfriend.
He turns toward me and I whip my head back to Steph, my heart pounding in my ears. I could feel him looking at me though, and it made me my heart pound.
“We’re getting out of here,” I tell Steph. “Where’s the waiter at?”
Of course, there’s nobody in sight. I see a girl come out from the kitchen and try to wave her over.
“What? I haven’t even finished my burger,” Steph exclaims. “Relax a little Chelsea. What’s the worst that can happen? That you guys talk and hit it off? Maybe he takes you into bed? He looks like he’d be a good lover. Strong. Lots of stamina. Older too, so he probably knows his way around a woman’s body. Really, I can understand why you’re so gaga over him.”
I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation about my boss’ sexual prowess with him less than fifty feet away. His ears must be burning up.
“What if he thinks I followed him here or something? And in case you’ve forgotten our past few conversations, the reason we haven’t done anything, aside from the fact that he’s shown no interest, is because he’s my BOSS!”
I’m swinging my arm harder to try to catch the waitress’ attention, but she’s too focused on taking an order. Instead, I’ve caught the attention of someone else. My boss. Crap. I see him winding his way between the tables towards us. Steph is smiling like the Cheshire Cat.
“Chelsea,” he says in a rich, dark voice. It’s an authoritative voice, one that’s great at giving commands and used to being obeyed. That’s partly why I’m half in love with him already. “What a nice surprise!”
“Mr. McAllister,” I say faintly. He’s really here in front of me. Without the structure of work, I’m at a loss for what to say to him.
“Hi,” Steph says brightly, holding out her hand. I gaze at her and see her pushing her hair back. She’s not immune to his charm either. “I’m Stephanie, her best friend.”
“Nice to meet you.” He flashes her a smile that makes me irrationally jealous and takes her hand.
“So,” she says, “Are you really riding her as hard as she says you are, or is she just trying to get out of mailing out a thousand wedding invitations this weekend?”
“Steph!” I want the ground to swallow me up. My cheeks are flaming, and the only reason Mr. McAllister can’t see is because of the dim lights. That’s probably the only good thing about this place.
“We have to go,” I say to my boss.
“We do?” my ex-best friend says far too innocently.
“Yes. I’m really busy remember?” I pick up my purse and jacket. “See you Monday Mr. McAllister.”
I try to avoid his eyes as I move around him, yanking Steph by the arm as I march towards the register at the front. I don’t even care if I’m being rude. I just want to get out of here before Steph opens her mouth and tells him about my stupid infatuation with him. She’s trying to tell me to wait, but there’s no way I’m stopping. When I get to the register by the bar, I pay for both of us and we’re out of there in five minutes flat. I don’t let up until I get to the corner.
“I can’t believe you said that!” I exclaim. “How the hell am I going to face him at work?”
“You should have thought of that before you wigged out on him. He was being friendly. Now he definitely knows something is up.”
My hands slowly slide down my face. What a nightmare.
“So... are you really going to call it a night then Chelsea?” she asks, glancing at her watch. “I told Michael I wasn’t going to be home until at least nine.”
“No. What I think I need is a stiff drink. And you’re buying.”
Get Boss of Me Here!
Other books by Lila Younger
What Her Dad Doesn’t Know
Boss of Me
About Lila Younger
Lila has spent her whole life in the PNW, where rainy days kept her inside with a book. A lover of the written word, she can’t believe that it’s taken her over twenty years to get around to writing a book. She’s always believed in love at first sight and happily ever afters. When she isn’t working on her stories, Lila likes to bake and hike in the mountains that make up her backyard.