The Boss of Her

by Julie Cannon

  The midday crowds were thick and Riley slowed her pace. She was still jittery but not nearly as much as a few minutes earlier. She’d read that panic, or anxiety attacks, released a surge of adrenaline into your body. Fight or flight. Obviously, she’d chosen the latter.

  The traffic light in front of her was red and she veered to her left and dashed across the street, dodging a lady pushing a dog stroller. She didn’t stop to look at the high-pitched barking coming from inside as she passed. She passed two Starbucks, one Quick Copy, and any number of small restaurants and hotel entrances before she slowed down. Riley knew she must’ve looked a sight in her heels and skirt walking as fast as she was. She probably ran a few blocks as well.

  Out of breath and out of energy, Riley collapsed on a metal bench conveniently placed under a large maple tree. Her mouth was dry and her throat ached from her harsh breathing. Her heart slowed to its normal beat and she looked at her watch. She’d been gone eighteen minutes. It seemed like only a few.

  Riley looked around. She didn’t recognize anything. She was on a neighborhood street with cars lining each side. She could see the street sign, but the name was unfamiliar. As her mind started to clear, she began to think. She ran a ten-minute mile, so with the traffic pedestrians and encumbrance of her shoes, she was probably less than a mile from her office.

  A tall, thin man walked toward her, the Great Dane at the end of a bright orange leash walking calmly at his side. The guy looked to be a nice enough guy but Riley didn’t want to ask where she was. How embarrassing would that be? They exchanged polite smiles. The head of his dog was level with hers as he passed. She could feel his hot breath. He needed a dental bone, or three.

  Riley tried not to panic again when she realized she didn’t have her phone or her wallet. Damn skirt with no pockets. Lyft and a taxi were out of the question. She could knock on one of the brightly painted doors. She could just see that: “Excuse me, ma’am. May I use your phone? I ran out of my office in a panic because the woman who strips for me now works for me.” That sounded like a reality TV show or a Lifetime movie. The way her luck was going, she’d probably find herself being questioned by the police.

  Riley retraced her steps back to the end of the block. She looked left, then right, but nothing looked familiar. She flashed back to her Girl Scout days and looked toward the sky, then the ground in front of her. Her shadow was to her left, and since her meeting ended at ten thirty, she had to be facing north. Taking a leap of faith that her office was to the south of this neighborhood, she turned left.

  Her feet were killing her, but walking and carrying her shoes was probably more suspicious than walking down a neighborhood street in a Calvin Klein suit. Two kids on skateboards almost ran her off the sidewalk. She was about to cuss at them, then thought better of it. Didn’t need that kind of trouble either. Finally, after fifteen minutes she heard the sound of traffic horns, her beacon to keep moving in this direction. On the next corner was a deli that she remembered walking to one day last spring. Twenty minutes and one very large blister later, she finally saw the top of her building.

  Riley stopped in the ladies’ room in the lobby to assess the damage her walkabout had caused. Her hair was a wreck and her face was flushed. Some cool water and a finger comb and she was good as she was going to get. She hobbled to the elevator and pushed the up button.

  Chapter Twelve

  “You need to get laid.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Riley said later that night as Ann handed her a wonton.

  “You heard me. Unless your hearing’s been affected by your lack of sex.”

  “I don’t think one has anything to do with the other,” Riley said, exasperated.

  “Sex has everything to do with everything,” Ann shot back. “Good sex sharpens your focus, relaxes you, and puts a glow on your face. Great sex,” Ann paused for effect, “great sex makes the day brighter, the air cleaner, and people not as annoying. And you, my friend,” she used her glass of chardonnay as a pointer, “you are dull and lifeless.”

  “Gee, thanks. With a friend like you it’s no wonder I haven’t put a bullet in my head already.” Riley didn’t need this shit from her BFF. She knew how long it had been. She didn’t need reminding and she was irritated that Ann had brought it up.

  Ann signaled the waiter to refill her glass. “You know I love you and I only want the best for you. I want to see you smile and look at someone with that look that says, I can’t wait to get you somewhere private. When was the last time you had a simple, fast and furious fuck?”

  Beer spewed out of Riley’s mouth. She started coughing, not knowing how she’d managed to inhale some of the liquid at the same time.

  “Whoa there, girl,” Ann said, patting Riley on the back like a toddler. “You okay?”

  Riley nodded as she wiped the beer off her chin and the tears from her eyes. “Jesus, you trying to kill me or something?” She coughed a few more times and blew her nose on the bar napkin.

  “Of course not, just asking. A good fuck goes a long way—”

  Riley interrupted, not sure how much more of this topic her body could bear. “I appreciate your concern but it’s really none of your business.”

  “That long, huh?”

  Riley coughed again, throwing Ann a dagger look, signaling it was the end of that discussion. Unfortunately, Ann missed the message.

  “Seriously. When was the last time you got laid?” Ann frowned in concentration, her brows crinkling like a shar-pei. The look was not flattering.

  “What is your point?” Riley asked instead. She knew she didn’t want to know the answer to the question, but the sooner Ann said her piece, the sooner she’d shut the fuck up.

  “My point is that you need to get out more, and I don’t mean on a Wednesday night with me or your basketball games. You play with a bunch of guys. You’ll never get laid that way. You need to meet someone, go on a few dates, feel that tingle of desire in your gut.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I’m doing just fine.”

  “But fine isn’t a way to live.”

  Riley held up her hand before Ann could say anything equally obvious. “It is for me,” she said, careful to keep her voice bland, yet firm. It was the truth. She did like her uncomplicated life. It suited her, and she certainly couldn’t have become as successful as she was if she’d had the conflicting priorities of a girlfriend. She had her short-term trysts now and then. They suited her and fit her personal and professional goals. As she climbed the corporate ladder she’d seen the plusses and minuses of a good spouse. One thing she’d never seen was a same-sex one. All her colleagues were married, not that they didn’t have a little something on the side—or a kinky side, for that matter. But they’d kept it tightly locked in the closet, so to speak. Image and reputation, as well as competence, were critical in her world.

  “You and I live in very different worlds. You’re an artist, it’s expected that you be flamboyant and a little wild and crazy. I’m a CFO, for God’s sake. We’re expected to be serious, thoughtful, and stable.” God, even to her it sounded boring as hell.

  “Okay, I get that nine to five, but what about five to nine?”

  “My job is never nine to five, or even nine to nine.” Ann had her own studio and worked whenever the spirit moved her. Riley couldn’t remember the last time the spirit even came knocking on her door. Jess’s face flashed in front of her and her spirit did more than knock.

  “I’ve got to go.” Riley gathered her phone and bag. “Since you insisted we talk about my sex life, you can pay.” She kissed Ann on the cheek and waved goodbye as she walked away.

  * * *

  Riley had almost canceled her monthly lunch with the new hires, but she refused to let the fact that Dana was going to be in attendance bother her. She was a seasoned, successful executive and she’d dealt with more difficult situations before. This was business, after all, and she didn’t think Dana was interested in being outed any more than she was. Six people
were standing around the table when she walked in at little before noon.

  “Good morning.” She glanced at her watch. “Or at least it is for another few minutes.”

  She went around the table, greeting each employee by name. She’d spent most of last night reading the bios of the four men and two women in the room. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to concentrate afterward, she saved Dana’s for last. She could recite it by memory.

  Dana Mason, age twenty-four, graduated last month from City University with a 3.25 grade point average. She had several letters of recommendation from her professors, each stating that Dana was a hard worker, inquisitive, and sharp. Her background check was clean with only a few parking tickets, all of which had been promptly paid. Riley wondered if she got any of them where she’d been dancing. Her credit score was 783 and her bank accounts had no red flags. Some thought Allied’s background checks were intrusive, but any employee who had access to financial data and systems necessitated a closer look.

  She hesitated a few seconds, preparing herself before she acknowledged Dana.

  “Dana, good to see you again. Is Joan taking good care of you?”

  “Yes, she is, thanks.”

  Dana was wearing pressed chinos and a short-sleeved blue patterned button-down shirt. Riley had to stop herself from imagining her slowly opening each one.

  “Good. I liked the way you spoke up in the budget meeting yesterday,” Riley said, much to Dana’s surprise. “We need more of that.”

  “Thank you.” Dana was obviously unaware Riley had even been at the meeting.

  After they picked up their lunches catered from the local deli, Riley spent an hour with the group answering questions and asking more than a few of her own. She found out that Dana was an only child, loved to mountain bike, and played the piano. Riley couldn’t stop herself from looking at Dana’s fingers after that discovery. Riley choked on her pickle when Dana said that dancing was her primary form of exercise. She dared not look at Dana as she pulled herself together.

  Dana had a heart-stopping smile and a laugh that took her breath away. She talked with her hands when she was excited about something and sat quietly when others spoke. She had good eye contact and wasn’t shy in front of those who were senior to her.

  Riley was surprised when Dana turned the questions around to her. No one had ever asked her anything personal during these lunches, probably thinking it was none of their business.

  “Well, unlike Dana, I have eight brothers and one sister.” A choir of “wows” and a variety of other shocked expressions floated through the room. “I know. My mom wanted a girl so bad she kept trying until she got one, then decided that I needed a sister. Unfortunately, it took three more boys before I got one.” Riley recalled the boisterous dinners as a child and the equally organized chaos of their last Christmas.

  “My passion is basketball and I play twice a week and every Saturday.” Her blood started to heat up as Dana’s eyes moved over her body. It seemed like forever and the blink of an eye before Tina came in and started gathering everything up. It was her signal for Riley to wrap it up.

  Riley thanked everyone for coming, and her excitement grew as she went around the table shaking everyone’s hand again. When she got to Dana she put on her best noncommittal CFO face and extended her hand in farewell.

  “We’re glad to have you with us, Dana.”

  Dana’s eyes were dark and knowing, yet nonthreatening at the same time. She looked from her outstretched hand, to Riley’s eyes, and back again before taking it in her own. The same surge of electricity and connection was as strong as the first time they’d touched. Riley knew she should release her, but couldn’t. It wasn’t until Tina cleared her throat that she finally did.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Riley paced back and forth in front of the door before finally making a decision. She slid the card into the slot, and the familiar click of the lock disengaging was unnervingly loud in the quiet hall.

  For the last six days, she’d debated canceling this appointment. It was the right thing to do, and she tried to do the right thing more times than she could count. Of course, the phone rang both ways, but Jess’s number never popped up on her caller ID. Riley thought it interesting that when she thought of Jess it was her body, dancing, the way she made her feel. When she thought of Dana, it was her sharp mind, her quick wit, and her grasp of their complicated business financials.

  “What in the fuck am I doing here?” Riley asked as she stepped into the empty room.

  “Why am I risking everything I’ve worked for? Why can’t I stop? Nothing inappropriate happens. Unless you call an employee stripping for you inappropriate. Jesus, this sounds like daytime TV material.”

  Riley made the decision to leave, but just as she touched the doorknob, there was a knock. She always left a key for Jess, but she never used it, she always knocked. Would she use it this time if Riley didn’t answer?

  Riley wondered if Jess was having the same what-the-fuck moment about coming here. Did she care about the complete inappropriateness of this? She certainly didn’t have as much to lose as Riley. Before Jess could knock again, Riley opened the door.

  “You seem surprised to see me,” Dana said when she saw Riley’s expression.

  Riley couldn’t answer without sounding like a hypocrite. She’d called for Jess, the stripper, but it was Dana standing in front of her now. “I could say the same to you.”

  “I always keep my commitments.” Dana lifted her chin a little.

  Riley opened the door wider and Dana stepped inside. “But this is different.” Riley suddenly felt ridiculous. Then what was she doing here?

  “One has nothing to do with the other.”

  “Are you that naïve?” Riley asked, maybe a bit too harsh.

  “No, not at all. I’m a realist.”

  “It certainly doesn’t get more real than this,” Riley mumbled. She turned and walked toward the window.

  “Business is business and this isn’t.”

  Riley spun around. “How can you say that?”

  “I’m not anywhere near your pay grade so I wouldn’t know for sure, but aren’t you allowed to have a personal life?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  Riley could think of dozens, but they all sounded tired and clichéd.

  “This isn’t on company time, and unless you paid for this room with your corporate credit card, this has nothing to do with your job,” Dana said calmly.

  “Except the potential for an above the fold headline.” She used her fingers to make air quotes, “CFO caught in hotel room with employee stripper.” She caught a glimpse of pain in Dana’s eyes before she blinked, then it was gone.

  “There is nothing illegal going on here.”

  “Splitting hairs, don’t you think?”

  “No, not at all.” Dana’s look was steady. “If you think there is something wrong, then why are you here?”

  Dana’s question knocked the breath out of her. She’d been asking herself that same question for days and still didn’t have an answer.

  “You think too much,” Dana said quietly.

  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  I know more about you than you do, Dana thought but didn’t say. She knew Riley would be here. She’d seen the look in her eyes, the tension in her body every time she danced for her. It told a very clear story that Riley might not be aware of, but one that Dana had read many times.

  Chapter one was the first time Riley saw her, dancing at Ann’s party. After that, every time she danced for her was the turning of a page, each one in anticipation of the next. Every time Riley’s number came up on her phone, Dana knew it was the next chapter. How many more until the last page was turned? When Riley sat down in the chair at the far side of the room, Dana knew there was at least one more.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “That is going to be bad,” Riley said to her reflection in the bathroom mi
rror. She’d just returned from a pickup basketball game and was even more unsettled and wound up than before she hit the court. She’d played with a couple of the guys before and they vouched for her with the other seven.

  The game was strenuous and they didn’t cut her any slack just because she had boobs. She’d had to concentrate and get her head in the game or risk getting knocked on her ass by the other players. For thirty minutes, she ran up and down the court with only a ten-minute break halfway through. She did her own share of pushing and shoving, her body simply taking over. A bruise just below her left eye from an errant elbow as she and one of the guys were scrambling to get a loose ball was starting to color. The blow had landed her on her ass and colorful dots had obscured her vision for a few seconds. She’d kept that fact to herself.

  She’d grabbed a spot in the next game and staggered home ninety minutes later. The games hadn’t cleared her mind like she hoped, and she’d expected the sheer physical exhaustion would help her sleep, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen either.

  Her phone was in her hand, Dana’s contact info on the screen. “What in the fuck am I doing?” she asked herself again, as if this time her good angel would answer the question, giving her sage advice as to why she shouldn’t make the call. Hearing nothing but the beating of her heart and the roar of her pulse in her ears, she touched the screen.

  * * *

  “Oh my God, are you all right?” Dana quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She dropped her bag on the floor and touched the bruise on Riley’s face.

  Dana’s touch was featherlight, as if she were afraid it would cause pain. On the contrary, Riley thought. It was soothing, yet inflamed her senses at the same time.