Bossed: A Steamy Office Romance

by Kate Gilead

  ALSO, ANY CATS NAMED ‘DOG’ SHH WE WONT TELL

  A few minutes after that,

  DINNER WILL BE SERVED WHEN Y’ALL GET HERE AND HELP ME COOK IT, SHARP! :P

  Then,

  THIS MEANS YOU, AMANDA :)

  I’m smiling and shaking my head at Brenda’s all-caps silliness, when more comes in:

  PS HERE’S THE MENU:

  LAMB, BEEF, CHICKEN AND JUMBO SHRIMP KEBABS; (NOT ALL ON THE SAME STICK, DUH)

  ‘I’LL CUT YOU FOR THESE POTATOES’ POTATOES;

  CESAR AND GARDEN SALAD

  TWO KINDS OF PIE PLUS ICE CREAM

  ASSORTED SNACKS

  VODKA AND CHERRY SLUSHIES (IF IT TURNS OUT OKAY IDFK)

  I CAN’T WAIT IT’S BEEN SOOOO LONG!!!

  And finally,

  HAIRY UP Y’ALL, I’M STARVING!!!

  I’m laughing but kinda glad she seems to be done. It was starting to sound like the dog pound in here.

  I’m excited to have a chance to relax with friends tonight…and also to find out what the hell “I’ll Cut Your for These Potatoes” potatoes are.

  I get home, run to my room to change. Just as I’m coming downstairs, my mom comes in the door with a few bags of groceries.

  “Here, let me give you a hand,” I say, helping her take the groceries into the kitchen. Among the food items are two six-packs of beer.

  “Mom? You, um, developing a taste for beer these days?”

  “Ha ha! No, Jennifer. Blake might be bringing his cousin by, later. He texted me just as I was leaving my last call. I invited them over.”

  “You invited them over? Did you forget I wasn’t going to be home?”

  “No. Don’t look at me like that, dear. I’m not having a party with your boyfriend behind your back or anything.” She laughs. “Blake’s cousin is looking at accommodations. You probably know, he’s thinking of moving to town permanently.”

  “He is? No, I didn’t know. I haven’t talked to Blake much, haven’t had time.”

  “Oh? Well, Blake said it’s going to be permanent. I thought that was a good sign.” She smiles. “You know, that Blake will be sticking around, too.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is,” I say, thoughtfully. “He did say he had something to tell me. Maybe that’s it.”

  “Maybe,” Mom says. She pauses, looking at me carefully. “I thought maybe he could take a look at the spare room. See if it suits him. But I wanted to ask you first. Would you mind?”

  I’m not sure if I mind or not. I know she wanted to rent the room out, but I didn’t think it’d be to someone we knew.

  Moreover, someone Blake knows. That could be awkward if…if…yeah. But it’s really up to Mom.

  She sees my hesitation. “It would only be temporary, but, never mind dear. It was just a thought.”

  Outside, a car horn blasts twice, quickly followed by a text notification. It’s Marie, letting me know she’s here to pick me up.

  “No…no. It’s okay, Mom. You go right ahead. Do what feels right. I gotta run. Say hi to Blake and his cousin for me.”

  “Sure sweetie. Have fun!”

  In the car, barely audible over the rumble of the engine, Marie has an ancient album playing, a greatest hits compilation by British rock band Led Zeppelin. She’s driving her prized possession: A vintage, restored 1970 Firebird in midnight blue, with matching bucket seats and interior. The motor purrs in that throaty way that only old-time muscle cars do.

  She’s wearing a pair of ripped and faded track pants, a skin-tight, man’s muscle shirt and a pair of scuffed Keds Triples. Completing her retro look is a Rosie the Riveter-style bandanna over her short, dark hair and an old pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses. Her sculpted arms sport delicate, filigree tattoos of birds, vines and cherry blossoms, Japanese style.

  “You look like trouble as usual, ‘Ree,” I say, plopping into the passenger seat.

  She turns the music down, lowers her sunglasses and makes a big show of checking out my Yoga pants, t-shirt and ballet flats ensemble. Her face and her big, brown eyes are clean of make-up, as is the custom for our girl’s night in. I happily scrubbed my own make-up off as soon as I got home.

  She pushes the sunglasses back up her nose, flashes a megawatt grin and says, “And you look as bodacious as ever. How do you manage to look so fuckin’ good without makeup and wearing ratty-ass clothes anyway?” She puts the car in gear and backs down the driveway.

  “Oh, please,” I say. “Look who’s talking. I need to drop a few pounds, but you look ripped as hell.”

  “Drop a few pounds from where? Ya boobs? Ain’t got much to spare anywhere else, chickie!” She shakes her head as she peels away from my house, laying a little rubber as she goes.

  “Shit, Marie,” I say, laughing. “This is why my neighbors don’t like you, remember?”

  “What? They’re just jealous of my ride,” she says, cackling.

  The drum intro to Led Zeppelin’s Rock and Roll thumps through the speakers. Marie screeches along with the opening verse, turning up the volume to ear-splitting.

  The beat fills the car and I give myself over to it, letting the classic rock music push thoughts of Blake, work, my mom, and all things grown-up out of my mind. I imagine teenagers back in the seventies grooving to this music when it was new, maybe sitting in a car just like this one––or maybe, sitting in this very car, smoking some wacky-weed maybe, and dreaming of times to come.

  A fresh wind blows through the open car windows as, music pumping and thumping, we push the speed limit all the way to Brenda’s, laughing and bopping in our seats.

  When we pull up in front of Brenda and Rob’s place, Rob is standing in the driveway talking to a hunky guy.

  “Hey ladies,” Rob calls out as we exit the car.

  “Hey Roberto,” I call back. “Managed to escape the duct tape and break out of the shed, huh?”

  “Huh?” he says. Marie and I look at each other and giggle. The guy standing with him grins uncertainly.

  “Never mind,” Marie says, nodding at Rob and then turning her attention to the familiar-looking stranger. Up close, I see his icy-blue eyes, his resemblance to Rob, and of course, I remember who it is. “I’m Marie,” she says, holding her hand out to him. “I’m an old friend of Brenda’s.” She gestures towards me. “This is Jennifer, a frightfully ugly chick we hang out with to make us look better.”

  We all laugh as the man shakes her hand. “Mark,” he says, grinning, his eyes alight. “Rob’s brother.”

  “We met, briefly, at the engagement Adopt-A-Thon,” I say. “Nice to see you again.”

  “Right! I remember you. Nice to see you, too,” he says, his gaze going straight back to Marie.

  “Damn,” Marie says, smiling boldly up at Mark. “Now I’m even sorrier that I missed that event. It’s very nice to meet you.”

  “Well, it sure is nice to meet you, too,” Mark says, still grinning. “Is that your car?”

  “Yessir,” she says, beaming. She likes nothing better than to be asked about her car.

  “Formula 400? V8? Three hundred and thirty horses?” he asks.

  “Yes! Yes and yes!” Marie answers, nearly swooning. “My dad got it for me for my sixteenth birthday. It took four years and a pile of money, but between my dad and my brothers, we restored it from scratch.”

  “Great job!” Mark says. “It looks mint and sounds like…”

  “Pure testosterone?” Marie says. They both laugh.

  “Yes, and that’s an interesting choice of music you were playing. Having a retro moment, were you?”

  “My whole life is a retro moment,” she says, eyes sparkling.

  Rob and I watch, amused. “Well, we were just heading out,” Rob says. “I knew this was girl’s night, but…since I’m supposed to be duct-taped at the moment, I’m thinking, we better get the hell outta Dodge, while we still can.”

  “Too bad,” Mark says, just as Marie is saying “What a shame!” Then they both laugh uproariously as if it’s the funniest thin
g ever.

  Rob and I glance at each other and roll our eyes. “Ohhkay, Mark, let’s get going,” he says. “Mom’s got dinner waiting, I don’t want to eat it cold.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Mark says, still smiling down at Marie. “We’re gonna watch the new Star Wars movie after that. You like Star Wars?”

  “Love it,” she says, clasping her hands behind her back and looking up at him with goo-goo eyes.

  “Ahem,” I say. Marie glances at me. “I’m going in. Brenda said we have to help her make dinner if we wanna eat. See you guys later!”

  I start walking up the driveway to the house. The front door opens and Brenda sticks her head out. “Thank God you’re here!”

  She comes further out, her voice going up in volume. “Hurry up and get in here, I need your help!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jenny

  “What? What’s wrong?” I hurry towards the door.

  “Amanda’s gonna hog the slushies if we don’t stop her!” Brenda shades her eyes with one hand, waving us towards the house with the other. “Marie! Hurry up and get in here… unless you wanna pry what’s left of our beverage out of her cold, drunk hands!”

  “Brenda?” I say.

  “Yes?” she answers.

  “You’re an asshole,” I reply.

  Laughing, we go inside.

  Tiny, Rob’s massive Rottweiler, and Princess Pumpkinhead Poopypants the Third, Brenda’s Pomeranian, greet us at the door, prancing, panting and ecstatic to see us.

  Marie and I happily return the dogs’ affection, with me bending down to scoop Princess into my arms. “Sweet girl,” I croon, cradling her trembling body and burying my face in her soft fur. She tucks her head under my chin like she does––so adorable!––and, my heart melts. I like dogs just as much as I like cats, but they’re so much more work! Still, Princess is so cute, she always makes me think about getting a Pom of my own.

  Meanwhile, Marie wastes no time getting down on her hands and knees on the floor with Tiny, where they wrestle and bump each other like lunatics. Marie unashamedly barks and makes play-charges at the big Rottie, sending him into spasms of joy.

  Play-bowing, eyes rolling and tongue lolling, Tiny wags his whole body deliriously, then he jumps back and runs in a tight circle, ears back and stump tail waving a mile a minute.

  Then he tears down the hallway like a maniac, claws scrabbling on the floor. At the end of the hallway he puts on the brakes, paws flailing, turns and tears back to Marie, flinging himself down on the floor next to her and rolling onto his back, waving his big paws in the air. His ears, lips and tongue flop all over the place while he chuffs his deep Rottie laughter.

  Nothing looks funnier than a big dog being a total goofball. We all laugh and shout encouragement, making him act up even more. What a ham!

  And what a welcome! It’s so good to be here.

  I put Princess down and we walk into the kitchen just in time to see Amanda peering into a plastic tub full of what looks like half-frozen blood. She digs into it with a spoon and puts a heaping pile of it into her mouth.

  “Whoa now! Start without us much?” I say. Turning, she hugs me hello, smiling with her mouth tightly closed.

  She swallows. “Mmmm, that’s tasty! Damn right, you’re gonna have to pry this shit from my cold, drunk hands.”

  “Oh, you heard that?” Brenda says, laughing.

  “All of Columbus heard that,” Amanda retorts.

  “Sooooo…do we get some or what?” I say.

  “Yeah,” Marie says. “The service here sucks! C’mon, I ain’t got all night!”

  “Okay, okay, keep your panties on,” Brenda sets out four tall glasses. Amanda fills each glass about halfway with the deep red slushy mixture and then tops it up with ginger ale, a sliced orange and a maraschino cherry.

  “Don’t be stingy with the cherries, either,” I add.

  “Picky-ass customer, you are,” she says, grinning. She pops a few more cherries into my drink, puts a bendy straw into each glass and hands them out with a cocktail napkin.

  “Points for professional presentation,” Marie says. “But, what the hell is it again? Looks like a blood sacrifice.”

  “It’s a bottle of vodka, two quarts of cherry juice and a bag of party slush mix. You freeze it and serve it with ginger ale or soda water or whatever you want. Garnish and voilà…delicious beverage.”

  Amanda holds her drink up. “Here’s to the four musketeers,” she says, and we all clink.

  “Cheers!” Amanda, me and Brenda chorus, while Marie throws in an amiable “Up yours!”

  We each stir and sip, and it is a very tasty beverage indeed. “Mmmm! That is good!” I say. “It’s almost like a Sangria.” I take a few more swallows, enjoying the contrasting flavors.

  “So, Marie, did I notice that you and Mark were on each other like white on rice out there?” Brenda teases.

  “What? Really?” Amanda says. “Do tell!”

  “Yes, they were practically drooling all over each other,” I say. Marie takes a gulp of her drink and waits, grinning at me. I grin back and continue. “It was like witnessing love at first sight. Or, two dogs rutting in the street. One or the other.” We all giggle. “It was outrageous flirting and bald-faced eye-fucking, like, right in front of everyone.” I cross my eyes and hang my tongue out of the side of my mouth.

  “Hah! Yeah, I saw some of it through the kitchen window,” Brenda says. “Feel like I should bleach my eyeballs now.”

  Laughing, Marie wrinkles her nose, then shoots us all the finger. “You shoulda told me Rob has a cute brother,” she says to Brenda.

  “He was off the market until, like, a month ago, I think,” Brenda retorts.

  “Oooh, so he is single,” Marie says, wriggling happily.

  “Yeah but he’s heart-broken, so, go easy on him,” Brenda says.

  “It’d be nice to get the chance,” Marie replies. “Why’d you have to rush them outta here so fast? It’s like you cock-blocked the guy, Brenda!”

  “Well, shit. For a minute there, it looked like you were gonna ditch us and go watch that movie with him,” I say to Marie.

  “Don’t think I didn’t want to,” Marie says impishly. “I should dump y’alls lame asses and go catch up with him.” Belying her words, she kicks off her shoes and takes a seat at the table, putting her feet up on the chair opposite hers with a contented sigh. “I still might! Didn’t you see how dreamy he is?”

  “Well, he’s Rob’s brother, so…yeah.” Brenda says.

  “How old?” Marie asks.

  “He turns thirty this year.”

  “Oh? Not too old, not too old. Those blue eyes! Man oh man!” Marie says. At twenty, she’s a little younger than the rest of us and has never shown a liking for older men.

  “I know, right?” Brenda says, smiling. “If they didn’t already look like brothers, those blue eyes’d sure give it away.”

  “He sure is gorgeous,” Marie says with a sigh.

  “Watch it, ‘Ree,” Amanda says, finishing her drink. “You don’t wanna end up related to Brenda by marriage, like I did.”

  “Oh, you got a problem with that?” Brenda says, then reaches over and gives her a pinch. “Ow!” Amanda says, giggling. “Okay, enough bullshit! I’m starving,” she says, waving towards the food waiting on the counters. “When are we gonna eat?”

  On the counter are two trays loaded with kebabs, threaded with assorted meats and vegetables. On the stove, a huge pot full of shucked corn on the cob awaits.“Better be soon, before you get too drunk to cook,” Brenda teases her.

  “Haha! You don’t really need me to cook anymore, Bren. You’re just getting lazy in your old age. Oooh! That reminds me…what’s the deal with these potatoes?”

  She points to a roasting pan full of quartered red potatoes, skin still on. Next to the roasting pan, neatly piled on the cutting board, are some chopped sweet peppers in red, orange and yellow, a pile of broccoli florets and a pile of red onion in chunks. Next
to that is a box of onion soup mix and a bottle of olive oil.

  I sidle over to the food and help myself to a couple chunks of red pepper.

  “Hey!” Brenda playfully smacks my hand before taking a big gulp of her drink. “Okay, okay…oh my fucking God you guys are gonna love these potatoes! This is Rob’s mother’s recipe, okay? Check it out!”

  She picks up the roasting pan full of quartered spuds and holds it low, so we can all see the contents. “Here’s your basic potatoes, mmmkay? Nothing special…yet. Now…watch.”

  She adds the chopped sweet peppers, the onions and the broccoli florets to the potatoes in the pan, then douses them all with a generous splash of olive oil. “Now, cover and shake to distribute evenly,” she says. She puts the lid on the roasting pan, holds it in place with her thumbs and shakes it vigorously.

  “And now, for the magical ingredient…two packets of onion soup mix!” She shakes the powdered soup mix onto the potatoes and vegetables. “Now, cover and shake once more,” she says, shaking the covered pan vigorously again.

  She removes the lid and shows us the contents. The vegetables look to be evenly distributed and well-coated with the soup mix. It looks and smells delicious and it’s not even cooked yet.

  “You put in on the grill at about 400 degrees and in half an hour or so, you’ll be in Spud Heaven.”

  My stomach rumbles loudly, making everyone laugh.

  “Shit, I know how you feel,” Amanda says. “Okay, everyone carry something out to the patio! It’s grillin’ time!”

  It’s a beautiful evening for a cook-out. Amanda and I end up manning the grill, leaving Brenda and Marie to feed the dogs, re-fill the drinks flowing, boil the corn on the cob and provide other logistical support.

  In no time, we’re sitting down to eat. The vegetables on the kebabs are a little burnt, but we all agree that’s the way kebabs should be. The meat is tender and delicious, the corn is juicy and the potatoes are so good, eating them is like having a mouth-gasm.

  At the outdoor picnic table, we eat in total silence at first. Tiny and Princess watch, curled up on the grass together at a polite distance, drooling and staring but too well-trained to otherwise encroach.