by Vivien Vale
Kylie seems confident that he’s lying. I think it’s a dangerous game to play considering he’s right about what we’re doing.
I’m one of the first people to arrive in the boardroom. Harold Clancy, head of HR, is there as well. He’s tall and stately, in his late forties with gray hair and a mustache. He still wears brown suits and striped ties the way they did in the fifties.
“Sorry about this nasty business, Wesley,” he says to me when I shake his hand. “I know I can trust you, but when an employee makes an accusation like this, you understand we need to follow up.”
I nod. “I do. It’s all part of the game, isn’t it?” I asked. “HR has its ups and downs.”
Harold laughs, and I remember why I like the guy. He’s firm, but he will always do it by the book. Here’s to hoping that Leon is wrong, because as nice as Harold is, if Leon is right he won’t save my ass.
Leon arrives shortly after. He smiles smugly at me. One by one the other board members filter in until all twelve of them are present. Kylie is the last to arrive. If she’s nervous, she doesn’t show it.
In fact, she has gone out of her way to look innocent. She’s wearing a butter yellow blouse and white pants with sandals that show bare toenails. She’s not wearing a lot of jewelry and what little makeup she has on makes her eyes look bigger. Her hair is loose hanging over her shoulders.
“Am I late?” she asks.
Harold smiles at her. I realize her look works. “You’re just in time,” he says. “Please, sit down.”
Kylie sits down in the nearest seat. She glances at me and in that small gesture I can tell she’s nervous, but her poker face is excellent. She looks calm. If anything, she looks unassuming. I don’t know how nervous she is on the inside. If only I felt as calm as she looks.
I am stressed. Leon’s accusations are a little more accurate than I’m comfortable with, even though I don’t think he can prove it. He wants to throw it all wide open because he seems to have something against Kylie, but it’s convenient that this is something he can hone in on. It’s one way to get her exposed, especially if it’s true.
Which it is. I sincerely hope that his so-called evidence isn’t real. I hope that he really is bluffing. The fact that he went through with the board meeting when Kylie suggested it makes me worry he has something solid to go by.
I guess we will find out in the next couple of minutes if it’s real or not.
“Let’s get this business started, shall we?” Mr. Richman says. He’s a stark, no-nonsense kind of guy and he’s conducting this meeting. He looks irritated. Mr. Richman looks at Leon. “You have come to us saying you caught wind of an affair. Our policy here at RidgeCo is strictly no fraternizing with colleagues.”
“That’s right,” Leon says.
“I would like you to know,” Mr. Richman says, “That we have a lot to do and I see this as a waste of my time.”
He’s not in a good mood. That may work in our favor. Leon shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
“It won’t be a waste of your time, sir,” he says. “I have proof of their affair, and I think it’s important that I bring it to the attention of the board.”
Mr. Richman just blinks at Leon before he turns his attention to me.
“What do you have to say about this?” he asks me.
“Well, Mr. Richman, I don’t know how he could have gotten any proof if nothing is happening. I’m as curious to see what he has for proof as you are.”
When I glance at Kylie, I can’t read her face.
“And you?” Mr. Richman asks Kylie. “Have you been sleeping with your boss?”
He sounds mocking. His tone is irritated and a little disbelieving.
“I just got this job, Mr. Richman,” Kylie says. I’ve worked hard for it. It would be a terrible idea to jeopardize it now.”
I realize that she hasn’t exactly given Richman an answer. When I look at Leon, his eyes are narrowed at her. I’m sure he’s noticed that, too. Maybe he sees the evasion as another form of proof.
“Well, let’s see what you have, then,” Richman says to Leon.
Leon nods and steps forward. He puts a small recording device on the table. I frown. Richman looks at it with a blank expression.
“What’s this?” he asks.
“A recording of the conversations I’ve had with both Wesley and Kylie about their affair.”
Richman doesn’t seem impressed, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I’ve been holding.
Leon presses the playback button and steps back. Leon’s voice is loud and clear, filling the room a moment later. We all listen.
“He slept with a woman last night that apparently wouldn’t stop bragging about how much game her friend has.” It’s Leon’s voice.
“She didn’t brag about herself?” I sound bored.
“Yeah, it is interesting. This friend apparently fucks her boss.”
“Well, I guess morals vary from person to person.”
“I know who Brad’s talking about. He’s talking about Kylie.”
There’s a pause, and I remember how I felt, how I reacted. Of course, that’s not on tape.
“Don’t be ridiculous, man. You heard from your son who heard from a one-night stand who heard from a friend? It sounds like everyone has been drinking too much.”
“I have to get going. I’ll see you in the office tomorrow. Send my regards to Martha.”
Mr. Richman opens his mouth to say something when it plays again, this time with Kylie speaking to Leon.
“Don’t be a little snip.” When he sounds aggressive on tape, Leon clears his throat. The tape plays on. “I mean the person. Your friend? She bragged to Bradley all night long about how her best friend is fucking her boss.”
He clears his throat again. He was quite aggressive toward Kylie.
“Who’s Bradley?”
“Your dumb-blonde routine isn’t going to get you out of this. He’s my son.”
“Well, maybe she was talking about another friend. Did she give him a name?”
Silence for a beat before she speaks again.
“Paris has a lot of friends, not just me. I’m pretty sure all of her friends have bosses.”
On the tape, Kylie sounds very calm, and Leon is aggressive. It doesn’t work in his favor so far. I glance at Richman who’s starting to look pissed. This is so much better than I anticipated.
“You’re lying.”
“It’s your word against mine, at this point.”
Another beat on the tape and then she speaks again.
“How Wes responds to accusations really has nothing to do with me, does it? Do you have any proof of this alleged affair?”
Richman reaches over and stops the tape. When I glance at Kylie, she looks relieved. She doesn’t even look at me. Good girl.
“I think that’s more than enough,” Richman says. “What is it that you’re trying to prove, here?”
Leon looks a little taken aback.
“They’re obviously up to something,” he says. “Did you hear how eager he was to leave?”
Richman looks at me for a moment with a “what the fuck” expression on his face.
“To be honest, Leon, I don’t think I would have been eager to stay if I were being accused like this,” he says.
I don’t smile, even though I want to.
“No one should have to stay in your presence, anyway. As for Miss Jordan, she denied it. From what I could tell, you were rather aggressive.”
Leon opens his mouth to say something, gasps for words and shuts it again without saying anything. He has nothing to say to that. He’s starting to get angry. His hands are tied, and now he’s made it all that much worse for himself. His failed attempt has only made me and Kylie look better.
Richman sighs.
“I think we need a bit of time to discuss this. If you’ll wait outside?”
I get up. Kylie stands, too. Leon doesn’t move. We walk to the door.
“You too,
Leon,” Richman says.
Leon looks like he’s going to say something. Or throw something. He controls himself and follows us out.
“This is bullshit,” Leon says as soon as we’re all outside the boardroom. “This is total crap, and you know it.” He jabs a finger at me. “Don’t think I won’t get you for this.”
Kylie watches him with big eyes.
“Get me for what?” I ask. “Making a fool of yourself?”
Leon is getting angrier. His face turns red, and a vein bulges on his forehead. I feel a little bad for the man because he’s not wrong in his suspicions. But he’s going about it wrong, and that’s rubbing me the wrong way.
Leon storms toward the men’s room and I’m relieved that we won’t have to sit with him the whole time we’re waiting. I glance at Kylie, and she makes eye-contact with me, but we don’t speak. We’re doing what we said we would do. We’re not giving anyone a reason to think we might be sleeping together.
It feels like forever, but finally, Harold opens the door.
“You can come in,” he says. “Where’s Leon?”
“Men’s,” I say.
Harold nods. “I’ll call him.”
He disappears. I walk into the boardroom and Kylie follows me. We sit down in our respective seats again. I’m not nearly as nervous, now. I don’t know what they’ll say, but Leon’s evidence didn’t prove anything at all.
Leon walks into the boardroom a moment later with Harold on his heels. When everyone is seated, Richman clears his throat.
“We’ve talked about this, Leon,” he says. “It’s not proof of anything. We can’t do anything about conversations that didn’t go as you planned.”
Leon opens his mouth, shocked.
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
“The only thing we’ve heard today was that you don’t seem to have a lot of respect for your boss or your team member.”
Leon shakes his head. “So, what?”
Richman glances at him, and there’s a warning in his eyes.
“So, you’re going to back off completely, and you’re going to change your attitude in the office, or we’ll have to talk to you for different reasons.”
Leon’s face is getting redder.
“So, I get punished when I’m not the one doing anything wrong?”
Richman shakes his head. “There’s nothing else we can find in these allegations, Leon. We can’t pursue this because there’s nothing to pursue. Consider this a warning.”
Leon jumps up.
“A warning?” He’s shouting, now. “I get a warning when they’re fucking, and they are going to just get away with it?”
“You should calm down,” Richman says, and he’s starting to look angry himself. “Remember this is the board.”
Leon is past the point of reason. His hands are balled into fists. I’ve seen him like this before. I know what’s coming.
“If this is the board, the people that are supposed to ensure the company runs well, it’s no wonder we’re such a shit show.”
“Leon.” It’s the final warning. I can hear it in Richman’s voice. I came in here worried that it would go terribly wrong. It is going wrong, but not in the way I expected.
I stand up. I don’t want Leon to make everything so much worse for himself. I still feel responsible for the man in some way.
“Just relax, Leon,” I say.
Leon glares at me.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he says and picks up the closest chair to him. He flings it toward me. I get out of the way in time, but Kylie yelps and the board members jump up. Two of them grab Leon by the arms to restrain him.
“That’s it, you’re fired!” Richman shouts.
Leon goes limp. “What?” he asks.
“We’ll not tolerate this kind of violence in this company. I expect you to have your things cleared by lunch.”
Leon saws his jaw open and closed. He looks shell-shocked. I’m shocked, too. Kylie sits there, stunned. It escalated so quickly I’m still trying to catch up.
“You can’t do this to me!” Leon shouts.
Richman’s face is like stone. “Get out, or I’ll have security take care of you.”
The threat seems to calm Leon down enough to storm toward the door. But then he turns around and points at Kylie. “You’re no better than that whore mother of yours,” he bites out, then stomps out of the boardroom. We all stare at the door in shock as it slams shut behind him.
“Well,” Richman says a moment later. “I guess we’re done here.”
Kylie
By Friday everything has calmed down again. Rumors traveled through the office after Leon got fired, but they didn’t last long. There weren’t a lot of people on my floor that liked him. He wasn’t always this way, they tell me, but I’m relieved I don’t have to deal with him and his condescending attitude anymore.
I feel a little guilty that he was fired when he tried to out us. It bugs me that he was right, but he took the fall. Still, it wasn’t our fault he got fired. Wes mentioned he had anger issues. God knows I’ve seen something of his temper as well.
And that parting shot about my mother? How the hell did he know about that? And even stranger, why did he bring it up? Just another jab at me? Or is there something more that I’m missing? I’ve always had the impression he disliked me for reasons I couldn’t fathom. If it has something to do with my mother, though, I’m at a loss.
I guess everything turned out for the better. At least I can focus on my work again. And at least Wes and I aren’t keeping any more secrets. It was weighing on me. Now I can enjoy our time together. What little we get, anyway, since we’re being more careful than ever after the blowup with Leon.
I’m working late more and more so that I’m on top of everything. It’s my first project, and I don’t want to mess it up. I want to prove myself to Wes and everyone else that made me feel so welcome as their new project manager.
I like working late. It’s not just about overtime or feeling like I’m doing what I can to make it work. It’s also because the office is so quiet, then. The floor is empty, no general noise to distract me from my work, and no one drops by my desk to make small talk or ask me something. Of course, I love being a part of everything, now, but I still prefer being left to my own devices. I work so much better when I’m alone.
I’m lost in my work. The first submissions for the project have come back with feedback, and I’m anxious to know if they liked what I did. I’m proud of my work, but I like it when other people are proud, too.
“You’re working late,” Wes says, and I jump. “Sorry,” he adds. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I shake my head. My heart hammers in my chest and I swallow hard. “I was just lost in my work. I’m looking at feedback.”
I look up at Wes, and his eyes are impossibly green. He’s smiling down at me, and my stomach erupts in butterflies. Is it going to be like this every time I see him, even though we’re just sleeping together and it’s nothing more than that? He smiles at me, and I turn to jelly.
“The project is going well,” he says.
I nod. “I think I have it down. I’m still finding my feet, but I think I’m managing.”
“I would say you’re doing more than just managing. Your work is outstanding, I’ve been going over it whenever you submit something.”
I blush. There’s no good reason for it, but my cheeks burn, anyway.
“Thank you,” I say.
Wes shakes his head. “Don’t thank me. This is all you. I hired you because I knew that you were capable of this kind of work.”
“No,” I tease, “You hired because you wanted to fuck me over.”
He leans in and whispers, “And now I just want to fuck you.” He chuckles, then adds, “But seriously. You’re doing amazingly well. You were meant for this kind of work.”
He’s paying me a lot of compliments, and all of them are about my abilities, my skill, my mind. It goes so much further tha
n a guy calling me hot or sexy. Of course, that’s just as nice, but a man paying attention to my mind just gets me on a whole different level.
“What do they have to say about your work in the feedback?” he asks.
I page through the file.
“They like the designs, they’re happy to proceed with the manufacturing, they seem positive about the programming. I think it’s going to work.”
Wes walks around my desk and pulls a chair closer from another desk. He rolls the chair so close that our knees touch when he sits down next to me and I’m suddenly flustered. I can’t think when he’s touching me. I can’t think when he’s near me, even.
“I knew it would all be good, of course,” he said. “I hope you’re proud.”
I nod, but I can’t really tell what he’s saying anymore. Blood rushes in my ears, and my heart hammers against my chest. My body responds to him the way it always does – I start getting wet. He turns me on no matter how he looks at me.
As if his bright green eyes and charming smile weren’t enough, his eyes slide down my body. He moves his hand to my knee. I swallow hard and try to concentrate on his face, on what he’ll say next. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to make rational conversation. When I’m around Wes, I lose a couple of point on my IQ and my ability to communicate coherently abandons me. Pathetic? Yes. But I lust after him, and he’s the kind of guy that makes me melt every time he touches me.
Which is often, and he does it so fucking well.
Wes’s hand on my thigh slides upward. I’m wearing a skirt and thigh-high nylons, and the silk makes his skin on mine that much more intense. I’m hyperaware of his movement, of how his hand inches closer and closer to my pussy.
When his hand pushes underneath the skirt, I swallow hard. I close my eyes, try to pull myself together and put my hand on his to stop him.
I shake my head, and he doesn’t move further, doesn’t fight me. He doesn’t remove his hand, but it’s not sliding upward anymore. Small victories.
“We shouldn’t do this,” I say.
Wes frowns. His hand is searing hot on my thigh, and I’m aware of my own breathing, too shallow and uneven.
“Why?”
I take another deep breath. It comes out shaky when I exhale.