Like a Boss

by Sylvia Pierce

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  Jesus, is she crying? I’ve never seen her so emotional. Hell, some of my guys shed tears every time the Dow breaks a record, but I can’t recall spotting a single crack in Blair’s friendly, all-business facade.

  Handing over my box of tissues as Blair settles into the chair in front of my desk, I ask, “Are you all right?”

  “No. Not really.” She blots her nose, then takes a shuddering breath. “I hate this, Jack. I debated all morning about whether to say anything at all. I’m sure it was a misunderstanding, but… Oh, man, this is so hard!”

  “It’s okay, Blair. Take a deep breath, then tell me what’s going on.”

  “It’s just the more I think about it…” Her throat works as she shakes her head. “I know I can’t stay silent.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can figure it out.” My mind is rapid-firing excuses—I’ve got Eric on research duty; he signed an NDA; I’m thinking of making some structural changes and asked him to pull performance files…

  “The thing is,” Blair says, “I really don’t want to involve legal. I came to you first because I know you’re a man of integrity, and if there were ever anything…untoward going on, you would know how to handle it.”

  I sit back in my chair, thrown. “Untoward? About Eric?”

  “I was as surprised as you are, believe me.” She holds my gaze, shredding the tissue in her hands. “But truly, Jack, I’m hoping we can handle this quietly. As much as he hurt me, I don’t want to make trouble.”

  “Wait. Eric hurt you?” The room is spinning as I try to keep up with Blair’s story. None of this makes any sense. Could she be mistaking someone else for Eric?

  “He…” Blair touches the ragged tissue to her nose again. “Last night, I came back to finish up some work, and he was… He was waiting for me in my office.”

  My jaw clenches tight. “All right. And what happened then?”

  She meets my eyes across the desk, tears streaming down her cheeks. I ball my hands into fists, trying my damn hardest to brace myself for whatever bomb she’s about to drop.

  “He asked me to shut the door. I was a little thrown, but I wasn’t really alarmed, so I did it. I assumed he had an HR issue to address—we’d been talking about some of the gaps in his qualifications, so I thought maybe he wanted to revisit that.”

  “But that’s not what happened.”

  “No, he… I…” She clears her throat, then smooths her skirt, her eyes still glassy with emotion.

  I don’t know whether to comfort her, to call someone else in here, or to call Eric to come explain this away, because Eric is Ellie and Ellie would never do anything to upset anyone like this. She’s passionate, not cruel, for God’s sake…

  I’m at a loss for actionable steps, but I know without a doubt that whatever comes out of Blair’s mouth next is going to be a serious fucking blow. I can sense it, like the crackle of electricity in the air before a storm, or the hum of energy on the trading floor in the moments before the opening bell.

  “Eric…exposed himself to me, Jack.”

  “Exposed what?” I blurt out.

  The mustache glue? The elastic bandages holding the curves in place? Her whole undercover story and the borderline questionable lengths she’s gone to in order to get her scoop?

  What on earth could Ellie have done?

  Lowering her gaze, Blair drops the final bombshell. “His penis, Jack. He exposed his penis.”

  Chapter 18

  Ellie

  The text comes through a little after six—but I’m so far down the email rabbit hole of Blair’s DOJ convos, I don’t realize something’s off until I rip my gaze away from the screen long enough to read—Leave quietly and meet me at the Hideaway in thirty minutes. Make sure no one sees you walking out. Especially Blair. But if you do run into her, don’t say anything. Not a word.

  With a combination of irritation and concern, I text back—If she’s been telling tales about “Eric” I can explain. We had words this morning, but I stand by what I said. You will, too, once you hear my side of the story. She was out of line.

  “And possibly out of her mind,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes with my finger and thumb.

  A person would have to be out of her mind to betray a company that had treated her so well, right? But the more I dig, the more it looks like Blair’s done just that. Her cryptic emails to and from her contact at the Department of Justice are so bizarre they’re practically written in code, but one thing is certain: there’s money involved. Lots of it.

  And Blair seems to be going to great lengths to hide it.

  After what seems like an unreasonably long pause, a few terse sentences pop through on my cell—Can’t talk now. Meet you at the bar. Don’t order a drink until I get there.

  I shake my head with a huff. I’m tempted to text back some terse words of my own insisting I can handle a beer and a grown-up conversation at the same time, but I resist. I’m sure Blair made her side of the story convincing, but Jack was my friend long before he was my lover. As soon as he hears the truth, he’ll be back on my side.

  Or so I assume.

  I’m so naïve that I truly assume everything’s going to be okay, right up until the moment Jack settles onto a stool beside me at the Hideaway, looking exhausted, but as handsome as ever, and announces that it’s over.

  “What’s over?” I ask, my throat going so tight the words emerge as a wheeze.

  He can’t mean… There’s been no sign, no warning. Everything has been so damned good. Great. Incredible.

  Hasn’t it?

  “Eric,” he says, the word inspiring knee-buckling relief and confusion in equal measure. “No more Eric, no more investigation, no more story.”

  “But I’m so close to—”

  “It’s too late, Ellie.” The tension in his voice makes it clear how close he is to the edge. “We’re on the verge of being found out, and if that happens, it’s not just your story that’s screwed. Our relationships with Ian, my rapport with my employees, the trust I’ve worked so hard to build with my clients, it’s all on the line. If word gets out that I aided and abetted an investigative journalist poking around my own company, I’m finished.” He lifts his hand to summon the shaggy-haired bartender manning the only hole in the wall left in the financial district.

  Because apparently Jack’s that worried about being seen with me.

  Or rather, with Eric.

  “Two scotch on the rocks,” he tells the man. “The best you’ve got.”

  “So much for staying sober,” I grumble.

  “Jesus, Ellie. We should’ve quit while we were ahead.”

  “But why?” I ask. Telling Jack I prefer whiskey can wait. “Because Blair is sick of me standing up for the little guy? If that’s the case, you’re making a mistake. Lulu Rivera is in the right, and if she decides to litigate, it’s going to be—”

  “Lulu?” Jack’s brows snap together. “What about Lulu?”

  I’m shocked that he doesn’t know. “Mr. Pool fired her, and Blair backed him up. Lulu was marched out like a criminal this afternoon, let go for the sin of going to pick up her sick kid one time too many. I can’t believe Blair didn’t tell you. Isn’t she supposed to report all personnel changes to you and Ian?”

  Jack curses as he drags a clawed hand through his hair. “She didn’t get around to it. She was too busy giving me an earful of bullshit.”

  I shake my head. “About what? Talk to me, Jack. Let me help you fix this.”

  “You can’t fix it.”

  I swallow the ball of nerves in my throat. Does she know I’ve been poking around her emails?

  No matter. She won’t have a leg to stand on once Jack knows the whole story.

  “Jack, whatever this is—”

  “It’s… I’m just gonna say it.” He leans in, adding in a softer voice, “Blair’s claiming Eric exposed himself to her last night.”

  A cry of outrage leaps from my throat, but Ja
ck presses on.

  “The only way to prove she’s a lying, scheming bitch is to come clean about your story.” He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Which is not an option. So we’re left with this: Eric resigns quietly and disappears, and I figure out how to get rid of Blair without a lawsuit.”

  “Are you crazy? Then she wins!” My hand balls into a fist on the bar next to the glass of scotch the bartender just delivered. “What if I really were a man facing this accusation? Is that how you would handle this? Get rid of me without proof or an inquiry or even a chance to tell my side?”

  “Of course not, but you’re not a real man.” Jack’s breath rushes out as he reaches for his drink. “And if you were, I’m not sure how we would handle it. Blair’s been with the company for years; you’re brand new and coming to us with some holes in your resume…” He takes a drink, humming around the mouthful of scotch before he swallows. “Honestly, if I didn’t know for a fact that you don’t have a dick to flash, I would’ve believed Blair. And I would’ve found a way to dismiss Eric without making any more waves.”

  I grip my glass tight, squinting up at him in the darkness. “But that’s bullshit, Jack. And not fair to anyone. If some guy really had exposed himself to Blair, she would deserve justice. And the creeper who whipped it out would deserve to have the incident follow him to his next job interview, so the people there know what kind of person they were dealing with.” I lay a hand on my bound chest. “And if Eric were falsely accused, he would deserve justice, too. Which would include a chance to defend his reputation and his livelihood. Don’t you see?” I stab my finger onto the bar between us. “This proves the entire point of my article. Gender inequality is bad for everyone—women and men. It creates a toxic environment where no one is treated fairly and—”

  “I’m on your side, okay?” Jack cuts in with a sharp exhale. “Please, Ellie, just give me a break for once. I understand where you’re coming from, but this situation is outside all the usual boxes. You’re a cross-dressing undercover reporter, and Blair is a sociopath who’s somehow managed to fool our entire office for years.”

  “She isn’t fooling everyone,” I grumble. “Especially people who don’t have a dick.”

  Jack’s eyes lift to the ceiling. “Not everything is boys versus girls, El.”

  “But this is,” I insist, the taste of betrayal sour and miserable in my mouth. “And I can’t believe you don’t see it. I can’t believe you’re telling me to give up and disappear without a fight.” I slide off my stool, pushing my untouched scotch toward him. “I’ve got to go. I promised Sonia I would watch Project Runway with her tonight.”

  “I’ll come with you.” Jack tugs his wallet out of his pants. “We’re not done discussing this.”

  “Yes, we are,” I say, the back of my nose stinging. “I’m not going to tuck tail and run because Blair told a flashy lie. I’m not built that way.”

  “Ellie, please. I know you’re passionate and committed to this, and I respect the hell out of you for that, but—”

  “Do you?” I press my lips together, fighting to maintain control. “Because it sure doesn’t feel like it. It feels like you’re ready to pull the rug out from under me the second things stop being easy.”

  Hurt flashes in Jack’s eyes. “That’s not fair. I’m in a dive bar having a lover’s quarrel with another man in public for you, El. The entire bar has been staring since we walked in, but I don’t care.”

  I glance over my shoulder, causing the three burly guys at the end of the bar to shift their attention quickly back to their beers and pretend they aren’t hanging on our every word.

  I turn back to Jack, swallowing hard. “This isn’t a lover’s quarrel. This is you telling me to ditch a project that could help your employees and re-launch my career. This is you deciding that covering your own ass is more important than doing what’s right.” I swallow hard, but I can’t stop the truth from emerging softly into the air. “That it’s more important than me.”

  “That’s not even close to true.” Jack’s expression morphs from hurt to flat-out wounded. “You’re important to me, Ellie. So fucking important. I thought I made that clear. These weeks with you… They’ve been amazing.”

  “I thought so, too. But now you’re—”

  “You have to know what you mean to me. This Blair situation has nothing to do with the way I feel about you. The way I feel about us.”

  I sniff, but I’m losing the battle against a breakdown. It’s time to get out of here. Now. Ten minutes ago. “I’m not sure about us, Jack. I’m not sure about anything right now except that I need to see this story through, and I hope to God you’ll let me.”

  Jack calls for me to wait, but I’m halfway to the door and I keep going. I lunge out onto the street, squinting in the suddenly too-bright light as I hurry around the corner and make a break for the subway entrance at the end of the block. I don’t pause or look back until I’m three steps down the stairs leading to the platform.

  But when I do, Jack is nowhere to be found.

  He let me go.

  Without a fight.

  It doesn’t bode well for the future of my article or my future with this man who is quickly becoming such a big part of my life.

  The best part.

  Or so I thought. But maybe I was fooling myself about that, too. All I know for certain is that I can’t remember the last time I felt this low, so far down that even the urine stink on the subway platform makes me ache for Jack and all the dreams I might have to leave behind.

  Chapter 19

  Jack

  By Monday morning, my email inbox is a war zone, each message a grenade lobbed straight into my lap by Blair fucking Keneally.

  Subject: Eric Webb

  Subject: Next steps with Eric

  Subject: Eric’s transition off the team

  Subject: We need to deal with this expediently

  All weekend I walked around in a haze of anger and denial, trying to convince myself this was just a bad dream. That I’d wake up this morning relaxed and refreshed, Ellie murmuring in my arms, the sun beaming through my windows to bleach away this Blair-induced nightmare.

  But of course, it wasn’t a dream. And Ellie’s been avoiding my calls since our argument at the bar Friday, dodging me at every turn. “Eric” hasn’t even shown up for work today.

  She’s spooked, which I get. But she’s also pissed at me, which I don’t get. I’m one hundred percent in her corner on this. Can’t she see that I’m only trying to protect her?

  Though I know it’s probably futile, I pick up my phone and send Ellie yet another text. You okay?

  She doesn’t respond, so I try again. I’m sorry this is happening. I don’t know what the right thing is here, El, but I’m confident we’ll figure it out together. I need you to trust me on this. Please?

  Still nothing. Damn it. I know I didn’t handle things all that well the other night, but she’s got to know she can count on me. With this or anything else.

  Can we meet for lunch today? I try. Talk this out?

  I wait ten more minutes, but my phone is dead silent.

  My email? Well, that’s another story. Two more from Blair, less than a minute apart.

  Subject: WHERE ARE YOU??

  And finally, the one that obliterates the last of my hope—

  Subject: Confirmed—meeting with legal

  She’s not letting this go. In fact, it seems she’s prepared to double down on the whole bullshit harassment story, all to get Eric out of the way.

  I’ve known from the start that Blair didn’t like that I hired Eric without her input, and sure, maybe the two of them butted heads a few times.

  But why would Blair do something so extreme?

  I’m about to pick up the phone and call her and Ellie on a conference call so we can put an end to this charade once and for all.

  But then Hannah buzzes me on the intercom.

  “Ian is on line one for you,” she announces. �
��He says you’re not answering your cell. Everything okay?”

  “Not especially,” I say, more to myself than Hannah.

  “Should I take a message?”

  “No, put him through.”

  I’ve dodged Ian—and this entire situation—long enough. I need to give him a heads up about Blair, let him know I’m on top of it before he hears it from someone else and blows this whole thing out of proportion.

  “Hey, Ian.” I force a smile, hoping my bullshit cheer shines through to the other end of the line.

  “Care to explain why the hell Blair Keneally called me this morning, threatening to sue?”

  So much for cheer.

  I drop my head into my hand. “I was hoping to tell you about it myself. I’m still gathering all the pertinent info.”

  “Dude, she told me your new broker-boy flashed his junk, and you didn’t even believe her. Newsflash, Jack. When women come forward like this, we fucking believe them.”

  “Goes without saying.” In fact, if Blair had accused any other guy in this office—any actual guy—I’d have believed her first, and asked questions later. But Blair isn’t a woman coming forward. She’s a woman trying to sabotage another woman for reasons I’ve yet to uncover.

  “Then what did you say to get her all riled up?” Ian asks.

  “Just that she was making serious allegations, and as such, we needed to follow the appropriate protocol, which doesn’t include firing someone without an investigation.”

  “Screw protocol. We can’t have this kind of shit going on in our company, Jack. No way.”

  “But Eric doesn’t even have—” A dick, I almost say, but catch myself just in time. “He doesn’t have access to her office.”

  Not to mention the fact that at the time of the alleged exposure, “Eric” was busy getting soaped up in my shower after a rowdy after-work romp that may or may not have involved maple syrup.

  “Clearly, he does,” Ian says.

  “I’m telling you, Ian. She’s lying.”