Boss Me Please

by Amy Brent

  “I don’t know how to do this Jessie, I’ve never… I mean Brad… I am just confused I guess.” She padded her way back into the other room.

  He raked a hand through his hair. “Well you enjoyed it, didn’t you? I mean it certainly sounded like it.” He couldn’t help but smile as she blushed. He moved to kiss her, and it was the most natural thing in the world to him.

  “Don’t worry Jessie, I’m not stupid I don’t think you’re going to fall in love with me or anything. It’s fine.” She led him to the door he had surprised her in only a short time before.

  He relaxed with her words, thankful that he hadn’t gone too far. It was best they leave the situation alone.

  Lynne

  It had been two months. Two. She chewed on her thumb nail as she paced the floor terrified. Everything had been perfect the first time, and then she had vowed to stay away from Jessie Randolph altogether. The truth was neither of them stood a chance. They met for lunch, and made love regularly, something neither of them talked about, but yet it never stopped. For hours they talked and laughed about everything and she found herself feeling more for him than she should.

  Now everything was falling apart, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Brad, who she now realized never gave much thought to her in the first place, knew something wasn’t right and she had finally decided to end it with him. That, and the other situation she had going on. She was frozen to the spot but ready to answer when he came into the room to face her once more.

  “Tell me Lynne, what do you have going on that could possibly make you walk away from me, and hurry up I have to get in there.” He gave her a half glance as she decided to put it off once more. The banquet room was quickly filling up with people, and she knew that she would fare better later.

  “Later, for now go enjoy the event.” She waited for a response from him, but instead he left her standing there as always.

  She sighed, gently running a hand over her stomach. Everything was different now, and she needed to think about more than just herself. She knew Brad wouldn’t miss her, he was always gone now with new friends and she didn’t quite ever get invited. She pushed through the heavy curtain and made her way towards the table reserved for them. She saw him then, standing along the far wall.

  He watched her, and she loved it. If she were honest she would go so far as to say that she loved him. Even now he was surrounded by two beautiful women, much like Brad in the other room. She did her best to lift her chin up, avoiding him entirely. He would miss her probably at first, but then he would replace her with someone better, more suited for him. Someone he could bring to these events and be proud of.

  She felt the pain of it all at once, the neglect from Brad, and the beauty of what she had with Jessie. The commonality was the same between them, neither wanting to give an inch of the real world up for her. She knew it was time to go, once and for all. She stood then, glancing at him once so that she could remember the way he looked at her. She smiled and turned to leave.

  Everything happened at once then. She walked along the long hall towards the front of the building and yet she felt him there before he even said a word. She knew he wanted to ask her why she had been avoiding him, and why she never made time for him anymore.

  Turning she faced him, his gaze looking at her intently. “What are you doing Lynne, and don’t give me some BS story because I’ll know it, I always know it?”

  “I ended it with Brad, and I am leaving. It’s for the best for all of us.” She touched her hand to his face, taking him in all at once.

  He pulled her to him, kissing her deeply. “No you’re not. I’ve been trying to get you to face this between us and now you are running from me.”

  “Really Lynne… so you are cheating on me with this piece of shit?” Brad moved down the stairs to grab her arm, yanking on her fiercely.

  “Brad let me go.” She tried to pull back but he held her tight.

  “Let me guess Jessie, you saw her and thought it was as good an opportunity as any to get back at me huh?” Brad pulled her closer to him.

  “Listen Brad, I’m only going to tell you this once and once only. You let her go your sonofabitch, and I mean now.”

  She noticed the deadly calm that surrounded him and she knew he meant it.

  “Or what Jessie, you can’t do a damn thing and you know it. You touch me and that’s your career right down the drain.”

  She frowned looking at Jessie.

  “I don’t give two shits about that Brad, what I care about is Lynne.” She felt her heart swell.

  “Hmm so this has nothing to do with Rachel does it?” She looked at Brad who sneered at her. “Yes sweetheart see I stole a girl away from Jessie once, and he vowed he would take one from me. So I hope you didn’t place any high hopes in your love life with him.” Brad laughed.

  She felt her heart breaking in little pieces when she looked at Jessie and saw his crestfallen look. “Once I did say that, but it was a long time ago, and long before you.” He spoke directly to her.

  Brad gripped her tighter. Looking down on her as she smiled at Jessie. She felt the sting of his hand as he slapped her hard. Her knees hit the floor with such force she felt the wind being knocked out of her. She knew Jessie would go for him now, just like he wanted.

  “Jessie don’t.” She stopped him before he could move. “He’s not worth it Jessie let it go.”

  “Tell her the rest of it Brad, tell her why.” She noticed the white knuckles Jessie had clenched at his side.

  Brad laughed loudly. “Same bitch different day. She was good for a ride; unlike the dead fish I get with you.” He gestured towards her. “You know I don’t get it anyway Jessie. I see you leave every field party and every even with a new girl on your arm. All of which are way better looking than her. What gives, why did you come back for more?”

  Jessie let his hands relax and Lynne finally stood once more, wiping a slight trickle of blood from the corners of her mouth.

  “It doesn’t matter Jessie, don’t give up your career for this.” She moved to walk towards him but Brad pulled her back once more.

  “Brad stop… listen to me ok.” She was scared and yet she had to calm the situation down. She had no choice… “Listen, if you like your career you need to let me go, let me go from here and let me go out of your life. If you hurt one hair on my head, I am going to the campus and telling everyone who will listen to the fact that you beat up a pregnant lady.”

  Both men stopped in their tracks, neither wanting to move. “Well the bastard isn’t mine, I haven’t touched her in months.” Brad let her go then and she moved away from him.

  Jessie was still looking at her, surprise on his face. She knew he had a lot of questions, most of which she would answer later.

  “You know what Jessie; you can have her. She can never quite seem to get herself together. No matter what I do she won’t lose weight or give a shit about me.” He started to leave.

  “You were lucky to have me Brad.” She didn’t turn or say another word instead she left into the night to find her car.

  The police were there suddenly, easily placing the blame on Jessie. They cuffed him, and took him. Throwing him into a car as he was violently cursing about everything under the sun. She knew he had done nothing wrong, and he would be out in no time.

  “Lynne, go make sure everything is fine.” He glanced down at her stomach and back up to meet her eyes. She never responded, she had chance to as they started asking her questions. It was the least she could do for him. She looked over, not surprised to see Brad laughing with one of the officers.

  For now, she just wanted to go home. She moved shakily taking a step away from him, and closer to her car… and freedom.

  Jessie

  He was in a damn cop car. Of all places he had vowed to never find himself back in one of those. He kicked at the seat in front of him, furious. She was pregnant, and he knew it was his. They had spent too much time… He swore under his breath. So
mewhere along the way he had fallen in love with her, and he had been a coward to never tell her before now. He had stood there while she sat alone and that alone killed him. He had learned more about himself over the last two months than he had in a lifetime of partying and vengeance.

  He spoke to the judge, biding his time until he could go. He knew she would likely leave and he would then be forced to follow her until he figured out where she had gone. If he could just see her he could tell her how he really felt.

  When the morning finally came he was out of the building like a light. He slipped into the cab that was waiting for him and went straight to her apartment. He knew she was gone, he felt it before he even knocked but he had to try. She was gone, and with her was his son or daughter. He sighed, he had resources, he had more money than he knew what to do with after all. He would find her just as soon as she settled somewhere. He hated the idea of her being alone, especially when she could be there with him.

  Slowly he made his way down the apartment stairs. He wanted to make things right, he wanted her! He realized he had no car and would need to call for one, but for the moment he wanted to walk, to clear his head. He rounded the corner of the small strip mall by her complex. He never really paid much attention to what was there, always passing it by as he’d made his way to her. He looked up and smiled as he passed a bakery. She loved bread, and he hated how she starved herself in the beginning. He loved her now, healthy and beautiful.

  He heard the tinkle of laughter in the store. He followed it, hoping to make what he wanted a reality. He saw her there, laughing nervously as the man behind the counter turned over a chunk to her. She was so beautiful it almost hurt him to look at her. He waited, knowing she would come out soon. When she did he watched her pause, waiting for him to say something.

  “Wait… before you say anything please let me explain.” He jumped in first.

  “Rachel was my friend; a neighbor I grew up with. Brad dated her for a year or so and when he was done he hurt her, badly. She never would tell me what he did but she was horribly depressed after that. I beat the shit out of him for hurting her that way and I did vow to take a girl from him. But the truth is I’ve done that 100’s of times. You are different, and you have been from the moment we first had lunch. I love you Lynne, I have for a long time and I want you to stay… to be with me and let me love you.”

  She waited as he spoke and he noticed the tears flowing freely down her face.

  “I’m so emotional all the time.” She wailed, but she nodded at him nonetheless and he wrapped her up in his arms.

  “You make me a better person Lynne, you make me want to fix the past and focus on the future.” He whispered against her hair.

  “I love you Jessie, and I want to be with you too but there I one problem.” She gazed up into his handsome face.

  “What’s that?” He frowned.

  “I’m going to eat a lot of bread with this pregnancy.” She smiled and he laughed loudly before pressing his lips against hers once more.

  CARRYING HIS BABY

  “This story isn't right for me,” I told my editor, propping a hand on my hip. “I'm not a sports writer!”

  “This isn't a sports story,” Jim said. He sat behind his desk, looking rumpled, his tie half-undone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “It's finance.”

  “The guy's a football player!” I threw up my hands, frustrated at being stuck with this crap assignment. I reported on the events taking place on Wall Street, on the financial heights and pitfalls that shook our very economy. I had no interest in interviewing some smug sports player who probably thought he was the best thing ever to grace the face of the earth. Sports players acted like they were gifted, as if God would take the time to make sure they scored the big points at the end of a playoff game and lead them to victory, instead of worrying about the pain and suffering going on in the world. I couldn't see the point of sports, and I didn't want to waste my time, or my column with The Dawson Post, with a story about some athlete I'd never even heard of before today.

  “He's also a billionaire,” Jim said. He picked up a page from the open file folder in front of him and skimmed the notes on it. “Not only is he one of the highest paid players out there, he's apparently also a genius when it comes to investing. Played football for Columbia University while studying financial economics. His bio says he was originally going to go into banking, but he was good enough at the game to get drafted. He makes millions per year now as a quarterback and he's invested a bunch of that in risky startup companies that became huge hits on Wall Street. And he just got traded, got a huge signing bonus, put the bonus into the market, and the payoff raised his net worth to over one billion.”

  He put down the paper and looked up at me. “I want you to interview him for the finance page. Find out his secrets. Ask him what tips he can offer our readers on investing strategies. That sort of thing.”

  I folded my arms under my generous breasts, frowning at Jim. “I don't need to ask him a bunch of fluff questions about winning the Superbowl?”

  “Jane, I told you,” Jim said, rising from behind his desk and walking around it to face me. “This isn't a sports story. Hal Masterson has been interviewed a thousand times over the course of his career by every sports page in the industry. But no one,” he shook a finger in my face, “has ever done a story on him for finance. It'll be a hit. Trust me on this one.”

  I sighed and lowered my arms to my sides. Jim had his heels dug in on this one, and it seemed like I didn't have much choice in the matter. Though at least, I figured, I could make an interesting story out of it, as long as Hal didn't spend the entire time talking about football.

  Jim handed me the folder and I left, heading down the hall to my office. I wasn't happy about being stuck with the Hal Masterson story, but I figured I might as well get it over with as soon as possible. Then I could get back to reporting the real financial news, writing stories about the changing shape of the American economy and making predictions about upcoming shifts in employment trends. The types of stories I'd studied and worked hard at for years to make a name for myself with this paper.

  I spent the next few hours in my office, doing research and making phone calls. I always believe in being thorough in my work, so I researched all the major news on Masterson, going back ten years to the day he was first draft pick out of college, on through his rise as a major sports star, and up to the more recent news about his financial windfalls. Jim had been right about one thing: there was really no financial news on Masterson. There were some reports listing him among the top ten highest paid athletes in the NFL, with a few mentions here and there about his investments and the money he'd made on Wall Street. But all the reports were written by sports page reporters, who focused on his skills at the game, and only mentioned his wealth as a side note.

  Once I had enough information to begin building a foundation for my story, I picked up the phone and called the PR office for Masterson's team. When someone answered I put on my most professional tone and said, “Hello, this is Jane Edison with The Dawson Post's Finance and Economics page. I'd like to set up an interview with one of your players, Hal Masterson.”

  “Did you say finance and economics?” the woman asked me. Her tone sounded like she was as doubtful about this story as I was.

  “That's right,” I said. “We'd like to do a profile on Mr. Masterson, in light of his recent financial success. Talk to him about his investment strategies, how he managed so much success, that sort of thing.”

  “Hold on a moment.” The woman set the phone down, though I could hear muted voices coming through the line, as if she were whispering with someone nearby. After a minute she picked up the phone again and said, “I'm sorry, Ms. Edison, but I'm afraid the finance pages aren't really the sort of publicity we're looking for.”

  “But—”

  “I'm sorry,” she said again, cutting me off. “Thank you for your interest. Have a nice day.”

  She hung up on
me and I sat there, staring at my phone, a scowl forming on my lips. I didn't want to do this stupid story anyway, but I wasn't about to let this woman just dismiss me like that. I was going to find a way to talk to Masterson, no matter what it took.

  I thought about how to proceed. I had some colleagues who had done crazy things to get interviews with sports stars, from stalking them at their homes to sneaking into the locker room after a game, pretending to be a towel boy. That sort of thing wasn't quite my style, however. I needed to approach this from the same angle I was approaching my story: the finance angle.

  I smirked as the idea came to me. I looked through my notes until I found the name of one of the companies Masterson had invested in. He had a large number of shares in a company called Jonas General Merchandise Suppliers. GMS had started as a small, family-owned business before their smart online practices and their innovative marketing campaign, which blended social media, video advertising, and traditional marketing strategies, had launched them into a nationwide powerhouse. According to my research, Masterson had first invested in them because he had gone to school with one of the Jonas kids, who now, ten years later, sat on the executive board of their company. There was a connection that I could exploit in order to get my interview.

  I located a phone number for Jonas GMS and told their PR representative that I wanted to do a story on their company's rise from a family business to a major corporation. They were only too eager to agree. I jotted down all of the details in my notebook and made the arrangements, then thanked them and hung up the phone.

  I looked at the appointment notes and grinned. I'd be able to get a real financial story for my pages by interviewing someone from GMS, and at the same time I'd have the chance to milk them for a connection to Masterson. It was like getting two stories for the price of one.

  * * *

  My interview with Brett Jonas went smooth as can be. I got all kinds of information about their business, how they got started, and what they had done to grow into such a successful corporation. Masterson's investment had been a big part of their growth; he had dumped millions into the company with the money he'd made playing football, and they had used that money to expand the company and grow to new heights. It hadn't been tough to get Brett talking about Masterson and his role as an investor. Towards the end of the interview, I subtly slipped in the question that had been my real reason for coming here.