The Boss Crush

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The Boss Crush Page 6

by Penny Wylder


  Sandy laughs to herself, crossing one arm over the other and letting her hand hang loose. Kicking her hip out, she stiffens her back, and glares at me.

  “You're lying! You did this to my clothes, to my makeup.”

  “Ew,” she says, scrunching her face up tight. “I'd never help you with anything. Don't blame me because you're a dirty slut, Dalia.”

  “I'm not a slut.”

  “You know what they say, if it looks like a slut, and it dresses like a slut, it must be. . .” she pauses, taking a step in. “A whore.”

  A few of her friends are behind her, and all of them start laughing, calling me a whore too. Sniffling, I wipe my eyes, trying not to cry.

  “Awe, what's the matter?” Sandy asks, her voice high pitched. “Is the little whore going to cry now?”

  Turning, I attempt to run, but Sandy grabs the back of my dress, and yanks me backwards. “Where the hell do you think you're going? You don't get to accuse me of something and then run away.”

  Stumbling backwards, I catch my balance on the wall. “Let me go, Sandy!” Tearing my dress free, I whip around so I'm facing her.

  I can feel myself getting more upset, my tears turning from water into rage. Balling my fists at my side, I've hit my limits. We all have a point of no return, a moment where we lose our shit and don't see it coming.

  All I see is red.

  Charging Sandy, I shove her to the ground. Jumping on top of her, we're struggling with each other. Her hands are in my hair, my hands are in hers. I can hear fabric rip, but I'm not sure if it's hers or mine.

  “Hey! Hey! Enough!” Strong hands peel me easily off of Sandy. “What the hell is going on? Sandy, are you all right? What the hell happened?”

  Lyle holds me back while lowering a hand to his sister and helping her to her feet. He's glancing between us, his eyes confused.

  “This bitch is trying to say I stole her stuff. When I didn't, I didn't touch her shit.” Sandy fixes her shirt, then brushes her fingers through her hair.

  “She's lying!” I snap, jerking my body forward to yell at her over his shoulder. “She switched my portfolio with blank pages of paper, and sent me in to make a fool of myself.”

  Huffing under her breath, she shakes her head, her eyes turning to slits. “Why would I do that, Dalia? Hm? Tell me what reason I have?”

  “I. . . I don't know! But you did it! I know you did!”

  “That’s enough. Dalia, if Sandy says she didn't do it, she didn't do it.”

  “What?” My eyes dart between his, angry and upset that he can't see the truth. “She's bullshitting you, Lyle!”

  “Look, I know my sister—”

  Tearing myself free, I rake my fingers over my face. “You know what, forget it, I'm done with this shit.” Spinning quickly, I storm off. I can't look at her anymore. I don't want to see her. I don't want to hear her. And I don't want to listen to her spew her lies.

  There's an extra set of steps with mine, causing me to look over my shoulder. Lyle is walking quickly, trying to catch up with me.

  “Dalia, wait up.”

  “Go away, Lyle.” Picking up my pace, I drop my eyes to the floor.

  He's at my side in a heartbeat, grabbing my shoulder to stop me from walking. “Here,” he says, trying to hand me a pile of papers. “I found this—”

  “I don't want anything from you.”

  “Just look at them and tell me if they look familiar.”

  I shift my gaze from his to his hands and snatch the pile from his fingers. It's all my artwork, every page. “Where did you get this?”

  “I found it in the trash. Maybe you dropped them and someone just picked them up and threw them away.”

  “Bullshit. I don't believe you.” Stuffing them into my folder, I tuck it under my arm. “She got you to help her, didn't she?”

  “Help her? Help her with what? What are you talking about?”

  “You helped her do this.” Taking a firm step forward, he tries to speak, but I don't let him get out a single word. “Do you have any idea how hard I worked, and what this did to me? You two ruined my life, you destroyed everything I've worked for, and for what? What did I ever do to you, except like you?”

  Holding my breath, I grab my lips with my fingers, and my eyes pop open wide.

  Shit! I didn't mean to say that!

  I'm such an idiot! My blood starts going and then I say something I never meant to.

  Lyle's eyes are still, stunned, and his brows fold in hard. My eyes gloss over, devastated with how my life is going. Everything is ruined. My future. My dreams. And any chance with my crush.

  Why does everything I touch burst into flames and turn to dust?

  I can't do anything right.

  I can't even fight for what I really want.

  5

  Dalia

  Present Day

  “Well, how is it?”

  “It's only been one day, Kira. And it's work, which is good, I guess.”

  “Why are you doing that?” she asks harshly.

  “Doing what?” I play dumb, trying to skirt around the conversation. I'm not sure I want to tell her everything.

  There are two big reasons I'm leaving out details. And they both have the last name Vox.

  “Seriously, Dalia, don't give me a generic answer like that. Is it horrible? Do you love it? Is it everything you thought it would be? I mean, you've been pining for a position in New York for such a long time, and now you have it. You must feel good at least. I mean, where's the excitement?”

  Feel good. . . She has no idea.

  Should I tell her?

  There's so much temptation to drop this bomb on her, filling her in on the surprise of my life as to who my new bosses are. I'm also hesitant. I know how she is, and I know how she holds onto the past a little more than she should.

  I feel like she'll want me to quit, and I'm not willing to do that. But Kira is also my best friend, and we share everything, there are no secrets between us.

  Who am I kidding? I'll never be able to keep this from her.

  Here goes nothing.

  “Honestly, I love it. But you want to hear something crazy?”

  “You know I do. What is it? They're putting you on the next cologne advertisement with Chris Hemsworth?”

  Laughing out loud, I shake my head to myself. “Oh my God, can you imagine? I wish, but no. Get this, my new bosses are Sandy and Lyle Vox.”

  “Get the fuck out of here!” she yells into the phone, and I swear she drops it at the same time. The speaker crackles with static, and she suddenly sounds really far away. “You're serious? Psycho Sandy is your boss?”

  “Yeah, I know. It's crazy right? I couldn't believe it either. I never expected to see them when I walked in.”

  “That's fucking nuts. And you didn't know it before you got hired?”

  “No, I had my interview in the HR office on a different floor. Didn't see either of them until my first day. I guess I should have put two and two together, Vox Design and all, it just didn't click.”

  She lets out a loud breath of air into the phone. “Wow, the fucking Vox twins. So, how did he look?”

  “What do you mean, how did he look?”

  “You know what I mean. Please, don't make me spell it out for you. How did he look?”

  Giggling, I look at my reflection in the window of the side entrance door, and run my finger under my eyes, wiping away some stray eyeliner. “He looks good.”

  “Just good?” Her voice is teasing, playfully higher than normal.

  “All right, he looks really good. Hotter than I remember. There, is that better?”

  “Details, girl, details. Give me something better than that.”

  “Oh my God, Kira, you have no idea. He's so much bigger than when we were kids, like he's spent the last five years working out every day. He's so thick that his muscles have muscles.” Leaning back against the building, I tap my fingers against my thigh. “But it doesn't matter anyway, he's my boss
. That makes him completely off limits.”

  Kira lets out a loud laugh as she says, “Boss—who cares if he's your boss. You shouldn't let that stop you.”

  “Who cares? I care. This is my new job, I don't want to risk getting it all muddy by getting mixed up with him. You remember what it was like in school. And I definitely don't want to get fired. Not that it matters, he's probably got enough girls to juggle, he doesn't need one more.”

  I can picture her face on the other end of the phone, and the smile she's probably wearing. “You know what I've always said, if you want it, take it. That's the only way to do shit. There's no sense in waiting for it to come to you, go get it yourself.”

  “Thanks for the advice, Dr. Phil.” Chuckling, I look at the time on my phone. “Shit, I hate to cut it short, but I got to go. Can't be late a second day, that would look terrible. I'll call you later, okay?”

  “Don't forget! I want to hear more about this later. Try and snap a few sneaky pics of him to send me.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I'll see what I can do.”

  Hanging up the phone, I grab my stuff and head into the building. It's going to be my first day on the new project, and I have no idea what to expect.

  The elevator doors open, and I nod at the secretary as I head to my office. Rounding the corner, I have my head down as I walk inside.

  “Good morning,” Lyle says, causing me to jump in surprise.

  Throwing a hand to my chest, I stop short. My head snaps up to see Lyle sitting at my desk with his feet up. “Good morning. I'm not late again, am I? Nine is the start time, right?”

  His eyes lick up and down my body, making my heart speed up in my chest. He doesn't answer me, but he's smiling, and I'll take that as a good sign.

  “The view is nice,” he says after a long pause, keeping his eyes on my body.

  Is he talking about me?

  The thought flutters through my head, as I follow his eyes. They move down my face, over my chest, and then back up. My belly starts to warm the longer his eyes stay on me.

  “What?” I ask, my voice scratchy and soft.

  “The view of the city from your windows. I think it's even better than mine.” Lyle spins in the chair, his eyes drifting over to the window, and I can finally breathe again.

  Letting all the air out of my lungs, I relax a little. “Right, the view from the window.” Moving deeper into my office, I set my bag on the small sofa against the wall. “It really is something. I've never seen anything like it before.”

  Pressing his hands into the top of my desk, he pushes himself up. “Here, let me give you your seat back.” He pulls out the chair for me and walks to the front of the desk. “So, the reason I'm here is because I need you to stay late today. We're starting the new campaign as you know, and I like to get ahead. Does that work for you? Can you stay?”

  “Yeah, absolutely. I'll stay as long as you need me to.”

  I want to prove myself to Lyle and his sister. I want them to know I'm a hard worker, and that I'll go the extra mile. Plus, after being late my first day, I kind of feel like I couldn't say no even if I wanted to. I didn't make a good first impression, but I can make a lasting second one.

  “Good,” he says, heading for the door. He's about to leave, when he stops and turns. Tapping a finger against his lips, he smirks. “And for the record, I wasn't just talking about the view out your window.” Lyle winks, and then disappears into the hall.

  My cheeks blush instantly, and my stomach twists like corded rope. Lyle Vox checked me out, and he flirted with me. What dimension did I wake up in?

  This is surreal. Never in my life did I expect to be here, getting hit on by my high school crush. Life really does have a way of surprising you.

  The rest of the day goes by quickly. I spend some time researching the sneakers for the campaign, coming up with teasers, and looking for advertising platforms that fit the brand.

  There's a knock at my door, and I look up to see Giada. “You're staying late?” she asks.

  “Yeah, Mr. Vox wants to get some stuff done so we're ahead of this project.”

  She nods and smiles. “Yeah, get used to this. Mr. Vox is always trying to get ahead of the next project. Well, I'll see you on Monday. Have a nice weekend.”

  “Thanks, you too. See you Monday.”

  Burying my head back into the pile of papers, I sort and make copies, send out emails to the list Giada gave me earlier in the day, and put together a few different mock art images to start the project.

  The office is quiet, I'm the only one left, everyone else went home a long time ago. I'm not even keeping an eye on the time, because it doesn't matter to me. I won't leave until I finish everything that was assigned to me.

  “Knock, knock.” Lyle's voice hits me in the chest, and I hold my breath. Looking up, he's standing in the doorway with a bag in his hand. “I felt bad you were here working late, so I grabbed Chinese for dinner.”

  Am I dreaming? Rubbing my eyes, I open them again. I'm not dreaming.

  I can smell the food, and it smells amazing. Lyle gives me a smile and nods his head. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. Why? Is it hard to believe I'd do something nice for someone?”

  “No, it's not that. I just thought with all this work, you'd want me to eat at my desk.”

  “I've got a better place to eat. Come on, you're not eating alone.”

  I follow him to an elevator in his office. He looks at me with a smile in his eyes and hits the button.

  “Look at this, now this is fancy. A private elevator in your office. . . My view has nothing on this.”

  “There are some perks to owning the company.”

  The doors open, and we both climb on. I can feel Lyle looking at me, studying me, observing me with curiosity.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” he says, turning to face the doors. “You look different is all, the same, but different.”

  He does remember me.

  “Yeah, well, so do you. It's been what, six years?”

  “Seven and a half to be exact,” he says casually. “But I did see you once a few years ago in a bar outside of Philly while I was on a business trip.”

  “Philly. . .” I think back, remembering one of my trips to visit Kira. “Okay, I was probably visiting Kira. She moved out there after college.” Dancing my eyes over his, I smile lightly. “How come you didn't come say hello?”

  Shrugging a shoulder, he adjusts the box in his arms. “You looked like you were having fun, I didn't want to ruin it for you.”

  Ruined? How would he have ruined anything?

  Before I can ask him what he means, the doors open to the roof. Lyle steps through the doors, holding out one arm and spinning in a circle. “Welcome to my secret playground.”

  “Your secret playground, huh?”

  Looking around, there's a long grass strip running the length of the roof, with a few chairs facing out toward the Hudson. String lights wrap a few of the wires, creating a soft glow around us.

  The city sparkles with a million lights, all of them flickering like fireflies. I step to the edge, resting my hands on the brick and stand in awe. The Hudson looks so beautiful from here. The surface is smooth, twinkling with the reflection of a star filled sky.

  “Wow, now this is a view.” The wind ruffles my hair, sending it in different directions.

  “Yeah, I love it up here. It's where I can go to just get away. Hungry?”

  Turning around to face him, there's a small round table between two chairs, and Lyle is taking the food out of the bag. He sets the containers down, arranging them in size.

  Pointing with a pair of chop sticks, he says, “This is crab Rangoon, over here you got your fried rice, this is orange chicken. . .” He lists off the rest, using his chop sticks like a laser pointer. “And I brought some wine, red and white, because I wasn't sure what you like.”

  “Either is fine with me.” I walk
toward him slowly, taking a seat in one of the chairs. He passes me a set of chop sticks and a glass of wine. “Thank you for this. I thought I'd be eating alone.”

  “Yeah, well,” he says, dropping into the chair next to me. “I felt bad asking you stay late like this. Dinner is the least I could do.”

  Scooping a bite of rice into my mouth, I look over at the grass strip. There's football in the center, and the grass is actually painted with white stripes I didn't see before. “Still like football I see.”

  “Yeah, how'd you guess?” he asks jokingly. “Still like art?”

  “Touché, Lyle Vox, you got me.”

  He laughs, relaxing back into the chair with a carton of food. “Seriously though, it's nice to know that you stayed with it. You were an incredible artist back then, and you're even more incredible now.”

  My cheeks flush, and I dip my head into my chest. “Thanks, I couldn't picture myself doing anything else.”

  “I mean it you know, even in school your art was so much better than anyone else’s. I was always blown away when I watched you draw.”

  “You watched me?”

  “Only when you didn't know I was looking.” He chuckles, swallowing a bite a chicken and giving me a big grin. His cheeks are puffy, stuffed with food as he waggles his brows.

  A painful memory bubbles up in my head. I don't want to talk about anything that has to do with high school. It makes me think about what happened, and it stings. I can still feel the same emotions that I felt that day.

  Time didn't do anything to make me forget. It might have dulled the memory, it might have given me new memories to create a gap, but there are certain moments in your life that just stay with you, hurt and all.

  And I have a few that still feel fresh even after all this time.

  “I saw on your resume that you went to RISD on a full art scholarship. That's impressive, that's a hard school to even get into, never mind get fully funded.”

  Smiling, it warms me inside that he pays attention to these details most wouldn't. But Lyle does. Bashfully, I stuff my face with more food because I'm not sure what to say.

 

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