Becoming His Mistress

by Murphy, A. E.

  I push my hair back and smile a cringe. It’s not something I talk about because it brings the mood down.

  “My parents abandoned me when I was six.”

  “Oh…” He wets his lips, such kissable-looking lips. Mrs. Conti is a lucky lady. Not that I want to kiss him. It’s just an observation. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Me too, I’d have liked parents growing up. Sometimes I really needed them.”

  “I can imagine,” he replies, smiling sadly. “Did they just up and leave one day?”

  I shake my head and cringe again. “No, they erm… physically abandoned me on train tracks in the middle of nowhere.”

  His jaw hits the floor, showing his pink tongue and unblemished teeth. “What the fuck?”

  “Yeah, they told me to count the tracks until I reached two hundred and then they’d be back.”

  With wide eyes he splutters for something to say.

  “They never came back.” I sip my drink. It’s nice, if not rather bitter. “I got to one hundred and eighty before the train came. Which is six multiplied by thirty. And thirty is also a multiple of six. I focused on the numbers a lot. Can you tell?”

  He pushes his hair back and looks at me dumbfounded. “Did you get hit by the train?”

  I blink and with a monotone voice I reply, “Yes. I did.”

  “That’s horrific.”

  “It is. I’m dead now. I’m a ghost. Can’t you tell?”

  He throws a pen at me that was tucked into the breast pocket of his shirt. It bounces off my right boob. “Oh HA. HA. Miss jokester.”

  Giggling, I take another gulp of my drink and push my glasses up my nose. “So yeah, my ex-therapist thinks that’s where I get my counting from. Because I nearly died all on the same day that my parents abandoned me. I think they were hoping I got hit and died so they could claim it was an accident. I used the numbers as a way to focus on anything but the reality that my parents hated me so much.” I look away unable to face his scrutiny. “You think I’m a freak, don’t you?” Before he can answer I continue, “I know I’m weird… I totally know I am. And it can be annoying at times but——”

  “I don’t think you’re a freak,” he cuts in, looking at me with a genuine gaze. I sense no lie here. “I think you’re an amazing PA and a really good person.”

  Okay… now I kinda want to hug him but not in a sexual way. I smile, feeling my cheeks warm again but because of his compliment this time. “Thanks, Mr. C.”

  Our eyes hold each other’s for a long moment, and something dances between us. Something innocent, pure, new, exciting. Are we becoming friends?

  He looks away when Laurie groans loudly and rolls over in her bed. When she starts snoring again, he sighs and stands. “I should go. I’ll come and get you both at about five tomorrow.”

  “Excellent. We’re just gonna sunbathe by the pool.”

  “You? Sunbathe?” He laughs and looks me up and down. “Has your body ever seen the sun?”

  “Nope, and it’s not going to. Laurie is sunbathing, I’m going to sit in my body tent and read.”

  Still laughing, he exits the room with me following at his heels.

  He turns back, gray eyes twinkling with humor and happiness. “Goodnight, Rose.”

  “Goodnight, Mr. C.”

  I close the door and rest against it. Why is my heart beating so rapidly?

  Chapter Six

  He sees me and my sixes.

  “Morning, Pax,” I say cheerfully as I enter Mr. C’s office with bagels. “I come bearing gifts.”

  “That’s kind of you,” Pax replies, watching me place the individually wrapped bagels onto Mr. C’s desk.

  Mr. C ends his phone call and then narrows his eyes on me, he looks tired and disheveled but then he has been up for nearly two days straight. He does this sometimes, especially when he’s working on something big. He loves work so much he often forgets that the rest of the world keeps moving. “You’ve been working for me for nine months and you still haven’t booked any annual leave. I meant to talk to you about it yesterday.”

  “I don’t have plans yet,” I reply.

  “I told you to make them.”

  I cross my eyes at Pax. “Think he needs a break from me?”

  “If that’s true, you can come and work for me instead,” Pax suggests, his usual flirtatious smile in place.

  Pax is just a few years older than me and runs public relations. He’s brilliant at his job though and has risen to the top in no time at all.

  He’s very charming so it’s no surprise and is extremely adorable, with cheeks slightly too big for his face and deep, long dimples that lead to thick lips.

  I may or may not have a slight crush on him. So much so that now that he has moved to the office next to Mr. C’s I try to find any excuse to bump into him.

  It’s not that I want to date him, but he makes me feel good when he gives me attention. Even though he gives every girl attention.

  Maybe I can be the one to tame him?

  Ugh… I sound like such an idiot. I’ve been reading too many romance novels.

  He pushes his hair back, smiling so that his lower lip just covers half of the top row of his teeth.

  Swoon.

  “Hands off my Rose,” Mr. C replies in jest, winking at me in a friendly way. Something he hasn’t done for a while because he’s been a pompous ass.

  His rose? That’s kind of cute.

  “Maybe we can share her? I have yet to find a personal assistant that doesn’t stumble over their feet and my schedule,” he mutters, sighing gravely, flexing his head from side to side.

  “I don’t mind helping where I can,” I respond while trying not to flutter my eyes like some sex-hungry fiend.

  Mr. C gives me a look. “You get paid to work for me and my team, not a different sector entirely.”

  I raise a brow and retort, “I run errands for your wife, what’s the difference? At least my time is being spent on your company.”

  “Ooooh, she’s got bite, I like it.” Pax continues grinning at me and I try not to wet my panties.

  “Since when do you run errands for my wife?” Mr. C asks firmly, looking frustrated.

  “Since always.” I look away as his stern gaze bores into me. I quickly add a quiet, “I don’t mind, of course. I’m always happy to help.”

  I sound like such a brownnoser, but the truth is that the busier I am, the happier I am.

  Mr. Conti stares at me for a moment longer and then looks at Pax and then back at me. “We’ll continue this conversation later. Get back to work.”

  “Yes, sir,” I mutter and glare right back at him before stomping away. Annoyed that he has dismissed me like a child. “You’re welcome, by the way. For lunch.”

  I hear the wheels of his chair drag as he stands and his hands slap on the table. “I pay you to do your job, I don’t have to be grateful every time you do something!”

  I feel my composure snap, turning back to him because his foul mood with me as of late has been seriously grating on me. “Are you kidding me right now? Do you know what day it is?”

  With blazing eyes, he opens his mouth to answer but then checks the expensive smart watch on his wrist and mutters a curse.

  “Exactly, it’s Saturday, my day off.” My hands ball into fists at my side. “I brought you both an early lunch because I knew you wouldn’t eat otherwise and your wife has been screaming down the phone at me all morning because you aren’t answering your phone and you didn’t take Maria to the zoo like you promised. So… guess who’s taking your daughter to the zoo after this so that you can finish doing what you’re doing and so she’ll stop crying and so your wife will stop screaming at me?” I tighten my bun and raise my chin. “You can discipline me all you want on your time, Mr. Conti, but don’t berate me on mine. I’ll let your wife know you’re still alive.”

  With that, I turn on my heel, feeling exhilarated and alive. I have never spoken to him like that before, but he has been a massive assho
le for the past few weeks. Constantly speaking to me like I’m nothing but dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

  We usually work so well together but not lately. He’s just such a grouch. And truth be told, the way Mrs. Conti speaks to me and has me constantly doing shit for her that takes me well out of the way, that’s been getting to me too.

  They treat me like their slave and they never smile at me anymore.

  It used to be that the job was enough for me. It used to make me so happy but now I dread coming into work. Well… apart from to see Pax of course.

  I drive to their house in the suburbs, a fifty-minute drive, to pick up a very excited Maria.

  We go to the zoo, another long drive, and I hold her hand while we walk around each exhibit, checking out the giraffes and the lions who are sleeping as always. They never move when I come, lazy cats.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket and Maria’s face falls when I check it.

  “It’s your father,” I explain, putting the phone to my ear while still holding her hand. “Yes, Mr. Conti?”

  “Where are you?”

  “At the zoo.”

  He sighs as though aggravated. “Where at the zoo?”

  “The lions.”

  “Stay there.”

  “But——”

  “Stay. There.”

  I look at Maria’s curious eyes. “Daddy’s coming, I think, so we’ve got to wait right here for him.”

  “YAY!” she cheers, jumping up and down, almost spilling the drink in her hand.

  I take it from her after stuffing my phone back into my bag and look around us. It’s busy today and so warm a day even for October but I don’t mind heat. People often ask me how I don’t melt in the clothes I wear but they’re baggy so I don’t particularly feel it as much as they’d think and everywhere I go there’s air-conditioning. Besides, when Mr. Conti gets here, it’ll be downright frosty.

  “Daddy!” Maria yells happily after a couple of minutes waiting and she races into the thickening crowds.

  “Maria,” I shout, following her. “I know you want to see your dad but please don’t take off like…” He scoops her up into his arms without incident and I feel silly for telling her off, especially in front of him. Some parents get so weird about it but he doesn’t seem to mind. “…that.” I wet my lips and give him a flat look when he offers me a smile.

  I might be meek and non-confrontational, but that doesn’t mean I’ll roll over whenever somebody offers me a bit of kindness. Especially when I’m not being paid, and they’ve made it clear they only value me because I’m paid.

  “Okay,” I say handing Maria her drink back as her father holds her tight and her eyes round with sorrow. “I will see you on Tuesday for soccer practice.”

  “You’re going?” she asks, looking torn between her father and me.

  “It’s your daddy’s turn and I’ve got a ton of things to do.”

  “Like what?” she asks sadly.

  Mr. C adds, “Yes, like what?”

  Oh, if his tone doesn’t just rub salt into the wound he made. Gah.

  I glare at him. “Like looking for a new job.”

  “Okay, I deserve that,” he tells me, putting his daughter down and smiling. “Don’t look for a new job. We have a great thing going.”

  “You have a great thing going. Not me. I’m starting to hate my job,” I admit, surprised at my own candor. “I’m starting to hate you. Which sucks because I used to really like you but you’re so grouchy and nothing is good enough for you these days.”

  “You sound like my wife,” he mutters, and we walk, letting Maria guide us to the next exhibit.

  Butterflies. I love this one.

  “Speaking of your wife, tell her to stop screaming at me whenever you do something wrong. It’s getting tiring. I’m not an extension of you. I don’t mind listening to her vent or whatever but it’s like she blames me when you do things.”

  “I didn’t realize she had been,” he grumbles, rubbing his face with both hands. “I apologize, we’ve all been under a lot of pressure lately and this is not how I want my family represented. I’ll have a word with Elizabeth.”

  “You’re still going to take me to soccer though, right?” Maria asks.

  I nod, tugging playfully on her braid. “Every Tuesday.”

  “And then ice cream and pizza?”

  “Duh, it’s my favorite day of the week.” I’m not even lying either. I love hanging out with Maria, she’s a sweet kid. Ice cream and pizza is an added bonus.

  “My wife has you taking Maria to soccer practice?” Mr. Conti seethes.

  “And piano recital, and she came to the school bake sale two weeks ago.”

  “Your wife is busy,” I reply softly, defending a woman who has always been vile to me.

  “Doing what? She’s a kept woman with one child and paid fucking maids to tend the house.” He rips a hand through his dark hair and looks up at the clear sky.

  I place my hand on his arm. “I don’t mind, I don’t want to cause issues between you and your wife. I don’t mind doing things if I have the time.”

  He sighs and looks at Maria. “What was the last thing you and Mommy did together?”

  “Don’t ask her that,” I hiss at him, my jaw dropping.

  Maria looks frightened, scared of saying the wrong thing. She pulls on my hand and points to the butterfly exhibit.

  “Let’s go,” I whisper, nodding for Mr. C to follow.

  He does so begrudgingly but I can see him becoming increasingly agitated.

  As soon as we’re through the flaps of the dome-shaped greenhouse, butterflies swarm us, making Maria squeal with glee. We follow her around for a while. Mr. C has his phone in his hand the entire time.

  I shouldn’t say anything, it’s not my place.

  “Please get off your phone.” I stop him, keeping one eye on Maria as she chases a big purple butterfly.

  His lips pinch together.

  “I know you’re mad or whatever, but Maria is——”

  “How many kids do you have?” he barks at me.

  “None.”

  “Then stay in your lane,” he snaps, and my mouth clamps shut.

  “Look, Daddy!” Maria cries, and we stop glaring at each other to look her way. There’s a huge blue and black butterfly on her head and the way she’s standing, arms out and bent, legs the same, so she doesn’t startle it into flying away, has us both smiling. “It likes me! Can we keep it?”

  “You’d want to take it away from its beautiful home because it gave you a hug?” I ask just as a butterfly lands on the top of my glasses and flutters its wings. I look up at it and then at Mr. Conti who is watching me intently. “Sorry, not my lane.”

  He laughs and I’m surprised when he hooks me around the shoulders and hugs me into his side. This is positively awkward. “Come on, grumpy, let’s get something to eat before you spontaneously combust and set all the butterflies on fire.”

  “It’s laughable that you think I’m the grumpy one,” I grumble, escaping his warm, strong arm.

  I snap off a flower from the exhibit and use it to coax the butterfly from my glasses. We exit moments later, looking for the café so we can get some well-earned food.

  I find us a table as Mr. C gets the drinks and snacks, and Maria races over to a nearby play area to swing from monkey bars upside down.

  I watch her with a smile on my face, she is such a nice kid. Never any bother.

  “I’m sorry,” Mr. C says the moment he takes the seat next to me. “I’ve been a jerk.”

  I scan him through my thick lenses, wondering if the sincerity I see on his face is genuine or his wall practiced lie to appease people, such is his line of work.

  “We’ve been working together for nine months,” he continues as I stir my latte and then take a sip to test if it’s sweet enough. “We’re bound to get a bit irate with each other from time to time, we see each other nearly every day. I’m surprised we haven’t fought sooner, but you’re usu
ally so calm. You just brush my temper off your shoulder like it doesn’t bother you.”

  “Should it bother me?”

  “I don’t mean it. I don’t mean to be rude and upset you,” he explains, placing his hand on my wrist on the table. His hands are so large, his fingers calloused and thick. “And I will have a word with my wife, and myself about being nicer people.” When he smiles at me his sweetest smile, I feel my outer frost melt. “Can you forgive me? Can we move on from this?”

  I nod, rubbing my wrist when he releases it to relieve myself of the lingering tingles. “I’m sorry for speaking to you like that in front of another employee. That was super unprofessional and it’s making me jittery just thinking about it.”

  “I deserved it. I should have thanked you for lunch. But you shouldn’t be coming in on your days off.”

  “I don’t mind it, I enjoy it, and I never want to give you reason to regret employing me.”

  He laughs, throwing his head back and this time his hand closes over mine. “You’ve already surpassed any PA I have ever had.” He releases me as quick as he touched me. “Speaking of which… Wednesday to Friday we’ll be visiting WhyTech E in Houston. Can you handle it?”

  “I’ll set up our rooms.”

  “Thank you,” he makes it a point to say this to my eyes with a smile.

  “You don’t have to thank me for doing my job.”

  “No, but I’ll start making more of a point to,” he replies, grinning as he brings his drink to his lips. “I do appreciate all you do; I don’t want you to think I don’t.”

  A coil of happiness tingles its way through my body, warming me.

  “I can’t remember a time you’ve ever said no to me.”

  “That’s because I’m not sure I ever could,” I reply and quickly look away, feeling my cheeks flush pink.

  “Is that so? Maybe I’ll put that theory to the test,” he remarks boldly in jest and innocence.