Possessive Boss

by Hamel, B. B.

  Except for Val Cotter…

  That interview was three days ago, but I still can’t stop thinking about her. I wasn’t sure what to think when she came into my door. She’s pretty, really pretty, with auburn hair and bright blue eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun and her clothes were professional and conservative, but still managed to show off a full figure. She wanted to hide it, but I couldn’t help but look at her anyway.

  It’s not like she’s the first woman I’ve seen in finance. I’ve hired plenty of women before and didn’t flirt with a single one of them. She’s just the first one I saw and instantly wanted to undress, right there on the conference room table.

  And judging by the way she reacted to me, I think she wanted it just as much as I did.

  I keep thinking about her body, about her pretty lips against mine. I want to take her, keep her, make her do things she never pictured she’d do, feel things she didn’t know she could feel. I want to sink myself deep between her legs and fuck her until that tight bun falls out and I can grasp her hair rough in my fist.

  My phone rings, pulling me from my fantasy. I nearly jump and sigh, rubbing my eyes. “Shit,” I say out loud then answer the phone. “Yeah?”

  “You sound annoyed,” Darin says.

  “Always annoyed. Especially with these interviews.”

  “Oh, come on. You love interviewing. You get to judge people. And you get to ask your stupid question.”

  I bristle a little bit. “It’s not stupid.”

  “I know, I know.” He laughs a little and I relax. Darin loves to mess with me, always has. “Look, how close are we?”

  “I have at least fifteen good candidates. Support stuff should be easier. I think we can be up and running in a couple weeks.”

  “Good. Lock those fifteen down. I want that place moving as soon as possible.”

  “What’s the rush?”

  He doesn’t answer for a second. “No rush,” he says. “No rush at all. Just, I want to get it going, you know, while we have momentum.”

  “Right. Sure. Because that’s a thing.”

  He laughs. “Look. You don’t get it, that’s fine. Some of us have to be out here, the face of the company, and trust me. We have momentum.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Darin laughs again. He’s my partner and I’ve known him forever. He’s basically the other half of my coin. I’m the numbers man, the one that does the day-to-day gritty stuff. I make the money.

  But he brings in the clients. He has a knack for it too. We’ve been growing steadily because I’ve been bringing in good numbers, but equally because he’s been bringing in good clients. Without the good clients, I wouldn’t be able to work my magic.

  So we work well together. The Philadelphia office was his idea, but he’s too busy working on a big client to come down here and do the staffing himself. Besides, I’m the day-to-day guy, so it’s inevitably my choice.

  “I was looking at those resumes you sent over,” he says.

  “Really?”

  “Well, glanced at them.”

  I laugh. I’d emailed him some of the more promising candidates but I didn’t expect him to actually look at it.

  “What do you think?”

  “They look suitably boring. Except for one.”

  I grin a little. “Let me guess.”

  “Valerie Cotter. Where the fuck did you find her?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I Googled her. Couldn’t help myself.”

  I groan. “You weirdo.”

  “I had to know what she looks like. Her resume reads like the most boring thing ever, like the rest of you numbers nerds.”

  “But?”

  “But she’s sexy as fuck and you know it.”

  I tense a little bit. I don’t know why I react that way. Darin’s been making crude jokes about women our whole life, and that’s not even bad. Normally, I’d laugh about something like that.

  But for some reason, I don’t like hearing it about Val.

  “She’s smart,” I say. “She’s qualified.”

  “She’s got tits for years and lips that make me want to—”

  “Darin,” I snap. “Enough.”

  “Whoa,” he says, laughing. “Are you serious? Did you just get mad?”

  I clench my jaw. That was a stupid mistake. He’s not going to let that one go. “It’s fine. She’s just nice, is all.”

  “Holy shit, Jacob. Do you like her? The king of pussy is actually… smitten.”

  “I’m not the king of pussy. That’s the worst nickname ever.”

  “Okay, sure, fine. You’re the Fuckmaster. The Cuntking. Is that better?”

  “No, not even a little bit.”

  “You get my meaning here. You’re the most eligible bachelor. Fucked all of New York city. Rejected California. Or whatever the rumor is.”

  I smile a little bit. I like that one. I started it, so I’d better.

  “She’s just different, okay? Forget about Val.”

  “I don’t think I can. Not after seeing all those pictures.”

  “Darin,” I warn.

  He laughs, clearly delighted by his newfound ability to piss me off. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. But damn, man. You’re getting annoyed like some schoolboy with a crush.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “I bet.” He sighs and I hear him shifting stuff around wherever he’s at. I realize I don’t actually know where he’s calling from. “Look, you go and hire whoever you want, all right? Don’t mind little old me. Have fun out there.”

  “I will. It’s a lot of fun.”

  “I bet it is. See you later, data nerd.”

  “See you, dickhead.”

  He hangs up and I sigh. I shouldn’t have let him get under my skin about Valerie like that. Honestly, I don’t even know why it bothered me. We’ve been making stupid jokes like that forever. I know it’s meaningless fun.

  But for some reason, it pissed me off. Hearing someone else disparage Val…

  And I barely fucking know her.

  I pull out her resume without thinking. I stare at it for a long moment before dialing her number.

  She picks up right away. “Hello?”

  “Hi, is this Valerie? This is Jacob Lofthouse.”

  I hear her make a noise on the other end. “Er, ah, hi. Sorry. Almost dropped my phone .You said this is Jacob?”

  I laugh a little, smiling. I bet she’s blushing right now. “That’s right.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to call. I mean, you did the interview, but…”

  “Normally I’d have Aimee do it. But I figured, what the hell, I was looking at your resume so I might as well call.”

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Lofthouse?”

  “Jacob.” I pause for effect. “And I want to offer you a job.”

  “Oh.”

  I wait a second. There’s no other sound.

  “Well?”

  “Oh, god, right. Yes! Of course. Absolutely.”

  “Perfect. Can you start in a couple weeks?”

  “I think so.”

  “I’ll send a letter over and we’ll make sure all the terms and all that stuff are good. But don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you, so long as you take good care of our clients.”

  “I will, Mr., uh, Jacob.”

  “And look, I wanted to ask. I know this is entirely inappropriate, but I guess I can’t help myself. Any interest in having some lunch with me?”

  Another short silence. “Ah, professionally?”

  “Of course. We can keep it as professional as you want.”

  “Right. Okay. A business lunch.”

  “Sure. How about tomorrow?”

  “I can do… tomorrow.”

  “I have your address on your resume. Is that the right one?”

  “Yes,” she says.

  “Good. I’ll get you around noon.”

  “Sounds… great. Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”


  “See you tomorrow.”

  I hang up the phone and lean back in my chair. I’m smiling and I don’t fucking know why.

  I just hired her then asked her out to lunch. I mean, shit, I bet some bosses have gone to fucking jail for that sort of thing. Or at least been sued to shit.

  I know it’s against the rules to ask out your employees. Even if it’s just a nice, casual thing, it’s against the rules.

  Still can’t help myself.

  I want this girl. And I want her to work for my company. Those two things aren’t exactly a good fit, but fuck it. I didn’t get to where I am by following every fucking rule. If she doesn’t want this, she can say no, and she’ll still have a goddamn good job.

  Otherwise, I’m taking what I want.

  3

  Val

  As it gets closer and closer to noon, my anxiety doubles and triples. I stand in front of the mirror with my phone pressed to my ear.

  I’d forgotten to call my boss after hearing from Jacob. After I hung up with Jacob, I’d spent the rest of the day and all night picking out something to wear and stressing about what this lunch meant, whether it was business or personal, or what.

  Even though I know, deep down, it’s personal. I can pretend this is for business… but I know why he wants to have this lunch. I could see it in his eyes.

  “Hello? This is Charles Gauge.”

  “Mr. Gauge, it’s Valerie.”

  “Oh, Valerie. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

  “They hired me.”

  He’s quiet for a beat then laughs. There’s real, genuine warmth in his laugh. “That’s fantastic.”

  “I know. I didn’t expect it. I mean, I thought I did well, I thought I had a good chance, but…”

  “This is good news, Valerie. And please, call me Charles. We’re going to be working closely from now on.”

  “Right. Of course.”

  “So, you do what you have to do. Get ready, go to work, and touch base with me as soon as you can. And congratulations. This is huge news. We’re very proud of you.”

  “Thank you, sir— Charles, I mean.”

  “Bye, Valerie.”

  I hang up. That was short and sweet, but I could hear the excitement in his voice.

  The first agent to get hired at this firm in years.

  The first one to get inside.

  And now I’m about to have lunch with one of the founders. Although it’s not the one we’re investigating, I still feel like a fraud.

  I have to push that from my mind. I can’t do any of this if I’m thinking about my real job while trying to do my… fake job? I’m not even sure what to think about it.

  Eventually I settle for something simple. Dark slacks that are nice and tight and an off-white blouse with little navy buttons. I put my hair up in a bun again and ditch the glasses, opting to put in contacts. I look at myself and pout a little bit, unhappy with my appearance, but it doesn’t matter.

  I’m out of time. Someone buzzes my apartment.

  I walk over and answer it. “Hi, Valerie.”

  “It’s Jacob. Ready?”

  “Ready. I’m coming down.”

  I turn off the intercom and take a deep breath before hurrying out.

  He’s waiting for me outside of a black sedan. He opens the door. “Right this way,” he says.

  I smile and slip inside. There’s a driver behind the wheel that doesn’t even glance back. He gets in beside me and the driver heads off.

  “I’m happy you could join me,” he says. “I’ve been eating alone since coming to Philly. Turns out, I don’t know anyone here.”

  “Oh, that can’t be true.”

  “Yeah, it’s not. But everyone I know here is either a rich snob or a business friend. I’m sick of being on all the time.”

  “I can understand that.”

  He smiles at me, almost dazzling. He’s so muscular and fit, and the suit he’s wearing somehow perfectly accentuates his features. He tilts his head and grins. “I hope you like Italian.”

  “Can’t live in this city if you don’t like Italian.”

  “That’s a good point.” He shifts a little. “How long have you been here?”

  “I grew up around here. I moved back not too long ago, actually. I heard you were opening a branch of FLFM in the city and I thought I’d apply.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “How’s the hiring going?”

  “Oh, slow. But Darin wants me to speed things up.” He hesitates. “Darin is my partner, Darin Ficino.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “This office was his idea. I mean, he’s right that we need to expand, but he chose Philly. I’m glad he did though, I like the city.”

  “It’s a good place. Small and you can walk places, if you want.”

  “Right, it feels like a big city without being overwhelming.”

  “And the history is cool.”

  “Museums are nice.”

  I laugh a little. “You go to museums?”

  “Not yet. Just acting sophisticated.”

  “Trying to impress me?”

  He leans closer. “Do I need to try?”

  I blush. “Not at all.”

  “Didn’t think so.”

  The car pulls up outside of a small, nondescript little cafe called Mama Travino’s. Jacob gets out then helps me, taking my hand as I step onto the curb. I stumble a little and he catches me, hand on my lower back. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, sorry. Turned my ankle a little.”

  “Hurts?”

  “No, no, it’s fine.”

  He nods then shuts the door. “Right this way. Try not to trip on any cracks on the sidewalk.”

  I give him a look and resist swatting at his arm. He grins and leads me into the cafe. We’re seated right away at a small, private table toward the back. The waitress brings bread, water, menus, and then leaves us alone.

  “What do you think of the city so far?” I ask him.

  “Not too bad. I mean, I like it, but I’m living in a hotel room. You know what I mean?”

  “Sort of. I’ve never lived in a hotel before.”

  He smiles a little. “It’s fun at first. Room service, all new things, whatever. But it gets really old, really fast.”

  “Aren’t you staying somewhere nice, though?”

  He looks insulted. “What, just because I’m rich?”

  “Yeah. Pretty much.” I grin and he laughs.

  “I’m staying somewhere very nice, but no matter how nice of a room it is, it’s still a hotel.”

  “Well, we can switch places, if you want. You can come stay in my little apartment sometime.”

  “Sounds good. Except for the place switching.” He cocks his head. “It’d be more fun if you were in that little apartment with me.”

  I smile a little bit. “What are you suggesting, Mr. Lofthouse?”

  “Exactly what you think.”

  The waitress returns and asks if we’d like anything to drink. Jacob asks for an iced tea and I stick with water.

  “I’m surprised. I thought you’d order whiskey or something.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “It’s the middle of the day.”

  “I know, but still.”

  “I have a reputation.” He leans back and eyes me. “You believe in my reputation?”

  “I don’t know what I believe,” I admit. “But you definitely have a reputation.”

  “What have you heard? I’ll tell you the truth.”

  “I’ve heard the whole ‘you’ve slept with half the women in New York’ thing.”

  “Not true. I barely spend any time in New York.” He hesitates then grins at me. “Although it is a lot.”

  I roll my eyes. “Of course.”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard the other rumors. The drinking, the partying.”

  “More or less.”

  “It’s half true. When I was a younger man, I took advantage of my status. I drank, I gambled,
I partied. But I gave that all up a long time ago.”

  “Really?” I cock my head at him. “You don’t do any of that?”

  “I drink a little. I party only when I’m required to for work.” He laughs a little. “Frankly, I’ve gotten boring in my old age.”

  “You’re, what, thirty-two?”

  “Exactly. Were you reading my Wikipedia page?”

  I blush a little. “No. Well, yeah.”

  “Thirty-two isn’t young anymore. But really, ever since we started FLFM, I haven’t had time to go out to clubs and get wasted all the time. I’m not sure I’d say I’ve settled down, but the wild days are behind me.”

  I lean on my elbows and look at him. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

  He laughs a little. “Oh, yeah?”

  “The rumors are just too consistent to be all made up.”

  “Well now, that’s a good point.” He leans in toward me and there’s only a foot or two separating our faces. “Truth is, the rumors are useful.”

  “Useful? Really?”

  “Really. The mythmaking helps us get clients. They want to come in the door and meet me, mostly based on rumor and speculation. They’re almost always a little disappointed by what they see, but by then, hopefully we’ve impressed them with our business.”

  “Huh.” I stare into his handsome eyes and feel myself get a little dizzy. “That actually… makes a lot of sense.”

  “Darin came up with it. My business partner. He’s the outgoing type, likes to meet new clients, bring them in, wine and dine them. Most of the rumors come from him. Except for the ones that I make up.”

  I laugh a little and he smiles back. “So it’s all marketing.”

  “Mostly. Like I said, I had some wild days when I was younger.”

  We maintain eye contact and for a second, I can see that younger, wilder Jacob. I can see him going out, getting women. Probably as many as he wanted, whenever he wanted. He’s rich and handsome and wealthy. And clearly he’s very smart and charming. I’d love to pretend like I’m immune to it, but I’m not. I can feel myself getting a little dizzy just letting him stare at me.

  The waitress comes back and we order. I ask for a salad and he gets a light pasta dish. We talk about our lives after that, although he mostly asks me questions. It’s a little nerve-wracking, but I’m pretty much entirely truthful.

  Of course, I leave out one tiny detail. He doesn’t think to ask me about other work experience, since I would’ve put it on my resume.