Hot Boss: An Office Romance

by Charlize Starr

  “Morning,” she says. She puts a hand on my chest, over my heart, like she’s checking that I’m real.

  “Have I told you,” I say, tucking her hair behind her ear, “that I really missed you? I think I missed you more than I even knew.”

  “I missed you too,” Brooke says, folding into my touch and swallowing, hard.

  “I can’t believe we went so long without doing that,” I say, laughing. Brooke laughs, too.

  “Would have been a little hard to do when you were gone,” Brooke says, sounding a little sad. I’m about to reply, to tell her we can make up for lost time now, when her doorbell rings and startles us both. Brooke bolts up and grabs a robe, tying it around herself tightly and heading for her front door.

  I pull my phone off her nightstand, texting my mom to thank her again for staying with David last night. I know I’ll have to answer questions about it later, but all of me is sure it was worth it. I head for the bathroom to wash off and brush my teeth. I’m hoping whoever is at the door doesn’t take too long. I want Brooke again. I want to repeat last night. I’m already turned on and half hard just thinking about fucking her again.

  I’m thinking about the way her skin had felt under my hands, the way she’d responded to my touch, when I hear the voices from her door. They’re raised and angry. There’s a man’s voice, and it sounds like he’s yelling at Brooke, maybe threatening her. Brooke sounds angry too – angry and possibly a little scared. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but their tones worry me. The door slams a few seconds later, and I step back into the bedroom.

  Brooke’s face looks pale. Her eyes are wide, and her hands are shaking. I grab her hands and take one of them, holding it in mine.

  “What’s going on?” I ask. Brooke shakes her head rapidly.

  “Nothing,” she says. I frown, sure something is wrong.

  “I heard yelling, and you look really shaken,” I say. I reach for Brooke’s face, tilting her chin, but she won’t meet my eyes.

  “I’m fine,” she says, looking at her own knees as she talks. “It was nothing.”

  “It seems like it was something pretty serious,” I say. Brooke’s hands are still shaking in mine like she can’t control it.

  “Really, it’s nothing,” she says.

  “Brooke, come on,” I say gently, “Tell me.”

  “There’s nothing to tell,” she says, pulling her hand out of mine and shaking her head again.

  “I can tell that there is,” I insist.

  “You’re wrong,” she says, finally meeting my eyes. I run my hand down her arm, hoping the touch helps.

  “Let me help you,” I say. Whoever had been threatening Brooke at the door had sounded pretty serious about it. I hate the thought of anyone talking to Brooke like that. I think of the day I’d first called her and she’d yelled at me to go to hell, saying she thought I was someone else. I think of the tired and stressed look she has at times. If it is all connected, then it seems like it is all part of some huge problem she’s keeping from me.

  “I don’t need help,” Brooke says, pulling away further and standing up. “I need to go take a shower. Excuse me.”

  She darts into her bathroom before I can say anything else. I lay back on the bed, frustrated and feeling like something is very, very wrong. I hear the shower start and consider leaving, but I decide that Brooke is too important. She might not want my help right now, but I can do more being here than I can if I leave.

  I head into her small kitchen and find her coffee, starting a pot for us, thinking she might want it when she gets out of the shower. She doesn’t have much else in the way of food, but I fry up a few eggs too. I’m not much of a cook, but there are several things I can make very well. I fed myself when I was single. Women have always loved my cooking and said it was a turn-on, but it’s also something fun to do with David now that he’s old enough to help.

  I hope the coffee and breakfast make Brooke feel like she can trust me with whatever is going on.

  Chapter Thirteen - Brooke

  I stand in the shower for as long as possible, until all of my hot water turns cold. I want to cleanse the thought of Jeff and his threats 0ff of my skin. I don’t want Anthony to hear me cry. I cry until I feel sick with it, shaking and gagging. Jeff’s visit had left me feeling terrified and unsure of what to do. Worse, it had interrupted my morning with Anthony. I’d been so happy. I’d felt light and floating, and then Jeff had ruined it all. He’d burst my bubble and reminded me that I wasn’t safe, that Autumn wasn’t, and that I was carrying huge secrets.

  I hated lying to Anthony, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. I didn’t want him to know about any of it. That I’d ever dated anyone as awful as Jeff, that Autumn and I had been attacked, that Autumn carried a gun because she’d been assaulted a few years ago, that she had used it that night, that we’d watched a man die, that Jeff was stalking me now, that this small town he’d brought his son to for safety and stability was full of such ugly and terrible things.

  I cry for myself, for Autumn and all she’s been through, for Anthony and Michelle and David, for all things I don’t normally let myself cry about. I cry like I haven’t since that night itself. Since I’d been lying on the floor, terrified that a giant man was about to choke the breath out of my baby sister and take her from me forever. I cry until I feel like my skin is tingling and my brain is crawling.

  There is no way I can get that money. Jeff made it very clear that I didn’t have a choice. He was going to the police if he didn’t give him his money. It’s impossible, though. He knows it is, I think. Jeff knows what kind of money I make and that I don’t have any way to get some like that. I’m half tempted to tell him to just do it – to just turn me in and let things run their course. If I actually thought it would help Autumn, I might, but I’m sure that as soon as the police examine the forensics, it would point back to her and we’d both be sitting in jail. I have to protect her.

  I shake my head, stepping out of the shower and thinking. It’s not as true anymore, I realize. I wouldn’t just let Jeff put me in jail if I thought it would protect Autumn. Not with Anthony back. Not when it feels like we’re starting something really wonderful. I need to protect Autumn, and I also need to protect myself and all the things that are beginning to feel possible.

  I have to end this. I have to make Jeff stop. I have to put an end to his intense and increasingly violent threats once and for all. In the kitchen, I can hear Anthony moving around. His car is still parked out front, and I know it is probably worth more than my entire apartment building. Maybe there is a way I can get the money and get Jeff out of my life. Maybe I can keep Autumn, and myself, safe.

  I get dressed and head out to the kitchen. Anthony has made coffee and eggs and is sitting at the table on his phone when I come in. I take a deep breath and prepare myself for what I’m about to ask. I hope he doesn’t hate me for it.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Hi,” he says back. “Coffee?”

  “Thank you,” I say, sitting down and gratefully taking the cup from him. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “It’s just coffee and eggs,” Anthony says, smiling. He’s put his pants from last night back on, and he’s just wearing an undershirt with them. It clings to his chest, to those muscles I’d buried myself in last night. They made me feel so safe. He’s watching me closely like he’s waiting for me to speak.

  “I think there might be a way you can help me,” I say, trying not to wince. It’s not wrong to ask your oldest and best friend in the world for a loan, I tell myself. Friends borrow money from friends all the time. Anthony has more money than I even know how to comprehend: billions of dollars, so there’s no harm. I can’t quite convince myself it’s true, but I tell it to myself anyway.

  “What do you need?” he asks, sitting up straighter like he’s ready to spring into action. Looking at Anthony here in my kitchen, I understand what I’d ever seen in Jeff even less. Anthony is such a good man. He g
enuinely cares about me, his son, his mom, and the important people in his life in a way I’m not sure someone like Jeff is even capable of.

  “Fifty thousand dollars,” I say in a rush – before I can talk myself out of asking. Anthony frowns.

  “What?” he asks. He sounds troubled, or maybe even hurt, and I feel terrible, but I ask again. This has to end.

  “Fifty thousand dollars,” I repeat, “I’ll pay you back. I promise I will, but I need it. Now. Please, Anthony.”

  “Why? Are you in trouble?” he asks, still frowning.

  “I can’t tell you, but if you can give me fifty thousand, it will be over, for good,” I say. I know it’s an unfair position to put Anthony in, and for all I know right now he’s thinking that everything that’s happened between us since he’s been back has been me using him for his money. Maybe he’ll never forgive me, but I don’t know what else to do. I have to do this.

  “If something dangerous is happening,” Anthony starts, but I shake my head and grab his hand.

  “Please,” I say, “Anthony, please. This will fix everything.”

  “Fifty thousand?” he asks, still frowning. I sag back in relief. I still feel like shit about it, but I just need to put an end to this.

  “I’ll pay you back,” I say, watching as Anthony reaches for his checkbook. He shakes his head.

  “Don’t worry about it, Brooke. You don’t need to pay me back,” he says. There is a gruffness to his voice now, something that sounds hurt or worried . . . or maybe both.

  “I will. I swear I will,” I say.

  “Don’t. Seriously, don’t worry about it,” he says. “Should I make this out to you?”

  “To cash,” I say. I’ve never been so miserable and so relieved at once in all my life.

  Anthony writes the check and passes it to me. “Do you need anything else?” he asks. His voice sounds tight with concern.

  “No, just this. Thank you so much,” I say. I drink down the rest of my coffee and bolt up from the table to call Jeff. I can feel Anthony’s eyes still on me. I should tell him more, but if I finish this right now, there is no reason for him ever to know. It will be over, Jeff will be gone, and Anthony and I can build on what we’ve been doing since he’s been back. As long as he forgives me for this, we can leave it in the past.

  I dial Jeff and tell him I have the money. He sounds surprised, but orders me to come to an address I don’t recognize. I enter it into my phone when we hang up and see it’s on the other side of town. I grab a jacket from my room and head out to end this.

  “I’m sorry to run out. I’m sorry for everything, but I have to take care of this,” I say to Anthony. He nods, still frowning.

  “Let me come with you, at least,” he says. I wish I could. I wish I could have Anthony at my side when I face Jeff, but he’s already too involved. Even asking him for the money is too much of a risk. I can’t let him come with me, as much as I want him to.

  “I have to do this alone,” I say. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

  “I don’t like this at all,” Anthony says, crossing his arms. His jaw looks tight and his voice is low.

  “I’m sorry,” I say again. I want to stay and talk this out with him. I want to take him with me. But I can’t do either. I have to go. I head for the door, leaving him sitting in my kitchen.

  “Brooke, please let me help,” he calls to me again as I leave.

  “You are helping. I have to go,” I say, going out the door without even turning around, scared I won’t go through with it if I look at him again.

  I get in the car and drive to the address Jeff has given me. I repeat to myself it will be over soon, that I’m handling it. Everything for me, Autumn, and Anthony will get better.

  Chapter Fourteen - Anthony

  I’m really worried about Brooke. I know whatever it is she’s not telling me is huge and dangerous. I don’t care about the money. I’d give Brooke millions if she asked, but there is no way whatever she is doing is safe. I can’t stand the thought of her going to meet some fucking creep with a check made to cash and no protection. I get in my car as soon as I hear hers pull off. I’m going to follow her. I can’t let her do something like this on her own. I don’t know what it is, but I know she shouldn’t be alone.

  Brooke has always tried to solve problems on her own, determined not to burden other people. She’s an incredibly resourceful and clever woman, and often she can handle things on her own better than most people. But more than once I’ve seen it blow up in her face, overwhelming her and making things much worse. In high school, she’d been treasurer of student council when all the money collected at the annual bake sale had gone missing. Brooke blamed herself and tried to get all the money back herself before anyone had noticed. She’d put in her own money by selling things at the seedy pawn shop just outside of town. She’d pawned her own class ring and was still short over one hundred dollars. By then, people had started to suspect she was the one who had stolen the money. A rumor went around the high school that she was on drugs.

  Eventually, I’d helped her form a committee to investigate the missing money, and we had the AV club search the school camera footage. It ended in an assistant football coach being fired, the money being returned, and me buying Brooke’s class ring back from the pawn shop for her.

  I don’t know what’s happening now, but I suspect it’s a lot worse than a few hundred dollars missing from a high school. I drive after her, following close, worried. She parks her car at a rundown old house that looks abandoned. There’s a rusty motorcycle parked across the street that I assume belongs to whoever threatened her this morning. I get out of my car and stand on the front lawn, listening for trouble.

  I hear Brooke scream a minute later, and I don’t hesitate. I rush into the house, yelling her name. I find her in what once must have been a living room, on the carpet, with a man I don’t know on top of her. He’s laughing and grabbing her thighs, and she looks terrified, pushing on his chest.

  “You stupid bitch,” the man says. I grab him by the back of his shirt and pull him off of her, hard.

  “Anthony!” she says, eyes going wide as I throw her attacker to the ground, away from her.

  “What the fuck?” the guy starts. I don’t let him finish. I punch him, hard. Over and over, knocking him out. I feel like I can’t hit him hard enough for what he was trying to do to Brooke. When he’s passed out, I go over to Brooke and pull her into my arms. She’s shaking and crying. She buries her head in my neck. I pull out my phone, holding her as she cries, and I call the police. Brooke pulls back when I hang up, looking at me with terrified eyes.

  “Are the police coming here?” she asks. Her voice sounds raw.

  “They are,” I say. She looks miserable and terrified and almost broken. “What happened?”

  “Shit,” she whispers, not answering my question. She looks at the unconscious man the floor and starts to cry again.

  “Who is he?” I ask. She stands up.

  “I can’t,” she says, and for the third time that day, she walks away from me without giving me answers. “I’m going to find the bathroom. I can’t be a mess like this when the police get here.”

  I doubt there is even running water in here, but I let her go, thinking she might need it after having been through so much today. After being through something traumatic, it makes sense she would need a minute to catch her breath in peace, so I don’t follow her now that the danger has passed.

  Her phone rings and Autumn’s name pops up. I grab for it, thinking that maybe what Brooke needs right now is her sister, especially since they’re so close.

  “Autumn?” I say, answering the phone. There’s a pause on the other end, and then she answers. I haven’t seen Autumn since she was just a kid, barely thirteen.

  “Who is this?” Autumn asks. “Why are you answering Brooke’s phone?”

  “It’s Anthony,” I say, and I hear Autumn make a small sound on the other end of the phone. I can’t tell if
it’s a surprised one or not. “Brooke is here with me. I don’t know if you know what’s been going on with her. I don’t really know, but she was delivering money to this guy I heard threatening her, and I found him on top of her, attacking her. He’s knocked out. I got him off of her, but she’s really shaken up.”

  “Oh, god,” Autumn says, sounding a little sick.

  “She’s safe now,” I say, trying to sound reassuring, even if I’m a little shaken myself by everything that’s happened today.

  “Skinny guy? Ugly tattoo on his arm and drives an even uglier motorcycle?” Autumn asks. I look over at the man on the floor and nod, seeing the tattoo she must be referring to on his forearm.

  “That’s the one,” I say. “The police are on their way. “

  “Where are you two? I’m coming,” Autumn says.

  I give her the address and assure her several more times that Brooke is safe and okay. Autumn is in the car when she hangs up. Brooke comes back a few minutes later, eyes red from crying.

  “Your sister is on her way,” I say as Brooke sits down. She freezes, her skin gets pale and her eyes get wider.

  “What?” she asks. “No. How?”

  “Your phone rang. I saw it was her, and I thought you could use her support right now, so I told her what happened,” I say, confused by her reaction. Brooke pales, looking even sicker than before.

  “No. She can’t,” Brooke says, and she grabs her phone and calls Autumn back, but it goes straight to voicemail.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” I say. Despite the police being on their way and the man being passed out on the floor, she doesn’t look like she feels any better. In fact, she looks worse.

  “I can’t. I can’t tell you, and Autumn can’t come here, and you shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have come. Shit,” Brooke says. I grab her hands.

  “I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if I hadn’t been here,” I say firmly.