Becoming His Mistress

by Murphy, A. E.

  Fortunately, our food arrives, breaking the awkwardness I felt at his and my words.

  I’m being silly anyway. There’s an inuendo in everything if you’re dirty minded enough and I am not dirty minded.

  Chapter Seven

  He adores his daughter.

  “Rose.” Pax’s voice startles me as he passes, rapping his knuckles on my solid wooden desk as he goes. “Sheathed your claws since Saturday?”

  I nod, blushing as his eyes linger on me. “I apologize for that, it’s not an accurate portrayal of who I am or how I conduct myself.”

  “Relax, it’s all good, you should hear some of the things I have spat at my bosses over the years.” He sits on the curved corner of my desk and beams down at me. “You’re both leaving for Houston soon, right?”

  “We are. Wednesday.”

  “I love Houston, it’s a great city. So many things to do and see. Don’t let the big man keep you all to himself.”

  Smiling, I tap my fingers on my thighs where he can’t see, counting to twelve to calm my nerves. “He’s usually really cool like that, let’s me get my sightseeing in before we go.”

  “He doesn’t join you?” he enquires politely, pushing his gorgeous honey blond hair back. Why is he so attractive?

  I shake my head. “He’s too busy.”

  “Who’s too busy to spend the day sightseeing with a gorgeous woman on his arm?”

  I blink slowly. I can’t believe he just called me gorgeous. “He… well… he’s married and I just I guess it’s not really appropriate.”

  “I’m not married,” Pax adds, his signature smile in place.

  “Leave the poor girl alone, Pax,” Mrs. Conti declares as she passes. I hadn’t heard her arrive. “She wants to remain disease free.”

  Pax pulls a face at her back as she strolls towards Mr. C’s office.

  “Is he free?” she asks and then pushes the doors open when I nod.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Conti,” I say.

  “Morning,” she replies cheerily and then the door closes behind her.

  “For the record, I don’t have any diseases,” Pax jests, leaning towards me.

  “I’m not sleeping with you, so I don’t care,” I respond, looking at my laptop. Why did I say that? Why?

  He’s not offended, instead he laughs so loud the eyes of those in the distance come our way. When he’s calmed down, he stands and stretches in his expensive suit. “See you when you get back then, I guess?”

  “Hope so,” I reply bravely, looking away when his eyes meet mine because they’re so intense.

  Could he like me too?

  He wanders away, whistling happily as he goes.

  The speaker on my desk beeps, and so does the piece in my ear signaling an incoming from the boss man.

  I hear raised voices coming through the door, mostly Mrs. Conti’s so I press the button to accept it and immediately remove my earpiece when her shrill voice assaults my fragile eardrum.

  I’m about to disconnect the call, realizing they obviously didn’t mean to come through to me, when Mrs. Conti snarls, “You’re going to take her word over mine?”

  “She’s not our nanny,” Mr. C replies and I wonder if they’re talking about me. “And she’s not your employee, she’s mine.”

  “We’re married. If I need to use your employees…”

  “Then do so but let me know so I can pay them accordingly! And don’t speak to them like shit. Especially Rose.”

  There’s a pause and I find myself holding my breath.

  “What do you mean, especially Rose?” She is really mad, practically seething, I could hear it in her voice.

  “I mean because she’s soft spoken and kind, she doesn’t need to be yelled at and that’s not your job. It’s my job to discipline my employees. Not yours! Especially when she’s doing your errands for free.”

  I want to cheer him on, happy that he’s got my back.

  Her voice gets scary as she asks, “Soft spoken and kind?”

  “Yes. She’s good to me, to us…”

  “Did she tell you I’ve been shouting at her?”

  “Liz…”

  “What else do you say about me when I’m not here?”

  I hear him hit something, maybe his desk, and his voice grows louder with frustration. “We don’t talk about you. We don’t fucking talk at all!”

  “Sounds like you do more than talk the way you’re defending her.” Now she’s being irrational and stupid, she’s grasping at straws for things to fight about. “Have you fucked her?”

  My hand flies to my mouth. I can’t believe she’d even ask that.

  “Elizabeth,” he rebuts, his tone one of warning. “Don’t test me.”

  “Have you?”

  “NO! Have you seen my wife lately, she’s fucking gorgeous? Why would I need to go elsewhere? Especially to somebody who still dresses like a twelve-year-old emo.”

  “She is a bit embarrassing to look at.” Mrs. Conti laughs, happy at their insults as I look down at my black oversized blazer and dark purple button-up. “You promise? You’ve never even thought about her like that?”

  “No,” he replies, the word elongated. “The only time I’ve ever thought of her body is when I’ve been trying to decide if she even has one or just a floating head and fabric.”

  “She must be a big girl, size of her clothes. She probably buries herself so we don’t notice. She ordered a man’s size jersey for Maria’s soccer practice.”

  “Of course she did,” he utters, laughing too now like his wife just was. “That’s so like her.

  “Come here,” he says to his wife and her laughter becomes a soft, seductive giggle. “I love you. I’d have to be crazy to cheat on you with her. She’s got nothing on you.”

  I end the call, feeling my fists clench. I count to sixty this time because I’m so fucking angry.

  I’m just the butt of their joke. The meek little girl.

  I head to the bathroom to wash my face, turning the corner of our floor near where Pax’s office is and his terrible PA Julia sits outside chatting as per usual.

  “Did you hear them bang?” Julia’s voice whispers on a laugh and I stop at the corner.

  “No, we got disconnected after they started talking about Rose.” Miranda is the one who says this, her tone amused.

  Oh my God. It must have been a glitch, either that or Mr. C hit the wrong button. Did everybody hear what they said?

  “So true though. She looks like a walking charity shop. Those suits and those glasses.”

  “Right? So gross. My grandma wears those shoes.”

  “Ladies,” Pax barks. “Don’t you have work to be doing?”

  “We were just——”

  “I know what you were just,” he snarls. “I don’t want to hear you talking about your colleague like that again, am I clear?”

  “Yes, Mr. Pax,” Julia mutters, sounding ashamed.

  “You’re too old to be bullies, I’ll not have it. If I ever hear you talking ill of Rose again, it’ll be your job.”

  Miranda laughs, “Chill out, Pax. It’s not like we were saying anything bad about her personally. She’s a sweet girl, she’s just a bit weird.”

  “Go back to your own office, Miranda,” Pax replies and I hear his door slam.

  I rush back to my desk, shaking with sadness. My heart is beating wildly in my chest and I feel sick. Pax had my back, but he didn’t disagree with them. He didn’t say he liked the way I looked.

  When Mrs. Conti leaves looking more disheveled than when she arrived, I stand and knock on the door to Mr. C’s office before entering.

  He’s checking his tie in the mirror on the wall when I step inside. So glad I ended the call when I did.

  “Everything okay, Rose?”

  “I’m taking the rest of the day off,” I assert, raising my chin and meeting his eyes.

  “Why? What’s wrong?” His concerned eyes look me up and down, assessing my face and body. Despite the fact I’m o
verdressed I suddenly want to cover myself. “You look distressed.”

  “I’m fine,” I reply, looking at my watch. Still angry at the things that have been said about me. I’m probably the joke of the entire building. “Can I go?”

  “Whatever you need,” he responds, taking a step towards me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  My jaw trembles so I bite on my lower lip. “Don’t… please… I just need some time alone.”

  I hate myself for being so weak, for crying in Mr. C’s presence. I despise myself for letting their words affect me but I’m only human. I’ve never been one to care what people think, but I didn’t realize I was the laughingstock of the office.

  “You’re crying,” he states as I angrily wipe my tears away. “What’s wrong?”

  “Don’t,” I beg and step backwards. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  I exit the room as quickly as my legs can carry me and shoulder my bag after grabbing it from under the desk.

  I press the button for the elevator eighteen times, and then eighteen more, rapidly hitting it with my fingertip until the doors open.

  I need to go home.

  I just need to be alone.

  * * *

  Approximately six hours and two boxes of tissues and chocolates later, there’s a gentle knock at my door. That’s odd because anybody visiting me would need to be buzzed in first.

  They probably have the wrong door number.

  I approach the door feeling lethargic and anxious. Not because of whoever is knocking but because I can’t get what they were all saying about me out of my head. It’s making me nauseous. I don’t want to be the freak or the weird one. I want to be the invisible one.

  When I open it I declare, “Oh my God… noooo.”

  And when I try to shut it in his face, he sticks his foot in the gap and it bounces back, almost getting my toes.

  “I don’t want to see you right now,” I whine pathetically, turning away from him and covering my face under my glasses which means they’ll be smudged when I remove my hands.

  “I am so sorry, Rose,” Mr. Conti insists, gently but sincerely.

  “Please just go so I can pretend this day never happened.” I keep my back to him, genuinely wishing he would just leave.

  “Rose,” he tries but I turn on him, mad and annoyed.

  “No.” I raise my hand. “Please. Just go.”

  “I am so sorry,” he whispers, looking genuinely devastated for the most part. “I didn’t mean what I said.”

  I snort, pulling back so he can’t take my hand like he wants to.

  “I just said it to appease Liz and I know that’s not an excuse.” He reaches for me again. “I don’t think your outfits are that of a twelve-year-old emo.”

  “Oh my God,” I breathe, taking another step back. “Stop.”

  “I think most of your clothes are very nice and reserved. It’s nice to see a young lady covering up for once, valuing her self-respect.”

  I blink at him. “So now you’re shaming women who don’t cover up?”

  “No,” he corrects looking panicked. “That’s not what I meant either.”

  “Then what do you mean, Ezra? Because you’re not making me feel any better about myself right now.”

  He pushes his hair back with both hands and puffs out his cheeks. We look at each other for a long moment as he gathers his thoughts and thinks about what point he’s trying to make. “I’m saying I’m sorry for hurting you.”

  “Okay,” I respond flatly. “Now can you go?”

  “I’ve put in a personal complaint to HR about the situation, myself, Julia, and Miranda, so if there is ever a time you feel bullied by me, them, or anybody because of my actions today, it’s logged and it will be dealt with.”

  “You didn’t,” I breathe, feeling even more alarmed now. “Why would you do that? Now I’ll get called in to make a statement and everybody will think I’m weak and care about what you said.”

  “Reporting a bully isn’t weakness.”

  “I just… I can’t do this right now.” I push against his arm. “Go. Please just go.”

  “Not until you tell me how to make this up to you.”

  “You can’t,” I yell, and I think this might be the first time in my entire life that I’ve ever yelled. “So please… just drop it.”

  He looks down, ashamed. “I really am sorry.”

  “I believe that, but it doesn’t change how I feel or how you made me feel. I’m the laughingstock of the entire building.” I fold my arms over my chest.

  “They heard me having sex with my wife, trust me, they’re paying more attention to that part.”

  Well, he’s probably right about that. “That was your choice. You should be more careful with the location of your quickies.”

  He grins boyishly, not looking ashamed about that part in the slightest.

  “Please go. This is humiliating enough without you standing there in my apartment, witnessing all that is this.” I motion to myself and the blanket on the sofa behind me.

  “I’ll leave you to your peace.” Blowing out a harsh breath he turns back to the door. “I understand if you don’t want to come back to work for me, but I really hope you do.”

  When he pulls it open my body tenses and my word vomit spews forth. “Just for the record, I do have a body under my clothes and it’s really nice too. So you totally don’t know what you’re even talking about.”

  He grins at me over his shoulder and looks me up and down slowly. “I have no doubts.”

  Why did I say that?

  Why, oh why, did I say that?

  He leaves and I feel that stupid thumping in my chest again.

  I don’t know what it means, and I don’t care to know.

  Chapter Eight

  He’s not afraid to apologize when he’s wrong.

  At work the next day, after building myself back up after my little meltdown, I’m surprised to find two huge bouquets of flowers on my desk.

  Now… don’t get me wrong, I think flowers are beautiful, but these are so large they’re offensive.

  They’re also a reminder of the day before and I hate that.

  Still, I pick up a card attached to the sparkling white bouquet of flowers I can’t name and read it. It’s from so many people. There are so many encouraging messages within from people I’ve never even met. Messages such as, “You’re killing your style, girl, keep at it. Fuck the haters and their stuck-up wives.” That one made me laugh. “People can be mean and childish no matter their age. Beauty is inside, they are proof of that.” That one makes me smile. “I don’t know you, we’ve never met, but I see you all the time. You’re adorable. Keep gracing us with those shy smiles that make our day.” I smile shyly, it’s what I do best. “*Sending Hugs*” I laugh again and close the card after absorbing every message squeezed into every available space.

  I move those flowers to the window and prop the card up with them.

  Then I take the smaller card from the offensive bouquet of purple and yellow flowers. So pretty.

  “I really am sorry.”

  Two guesses who that’s from. I put that one on the curved part of the desk behind me and push the flowers as close to the wall as they’ll go.

  My coworkers are sweet.

  Mr. C is just saving his own ass.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come back,” Pax announces as he rounds the far corner where I stood and eavesdropped on his bitch of a PA yesterday. “But I knew you were fierce. The offer to switch to my team is still there though.” He’s only half joking.

  I stand from my seat and meet him eye to eye, coming around the desk to face him. I made a vow this morning that I’d be braver today and that’s exactly what I’m doing. “I heard you defend me yesterday.”

  His smile fades to a grimace. “You heard what they said?”

  I nod and offer him a smile. “I did, but… what you did… it meant a lot.”

  “You’re adorable and kind, Rose, you don’t d
eserve anything that happened yesterday.” I’m surprised when he reaches up to touch my cheek, making me hold my breath. “And I happen to love the way you dress.” His hand drops and his mischievous smile comes back. “More clothing you’re wearing, the more wrapping there is to tear away.”

  I laugh once, a startled sound coming from my throat. “You… I… umm…”

  “So, you’re back Friday?” he continues, still smiling his handsome smile.

  “Yeah, why.”

  “Then how does Saturday at six sound?”

  Now I’m confused. “For what?”

  “For our date.”

  I blink and widen my eyes. “Our date?”

  “Yep. I’m going to take you out somewhere extremely fun, and then drive you home like a gentleman.”

  I gape at him and laugh again. “I’m not going on a pity date with you.”

  Chuckling, he steps closer and gently touches my chin to tilt my head back. His body is inches from mine. I feel like a bitch in heat. “It’s not a pity date. I was going to ask you anyway.”

  “I don’t believe you. Look… you’re kind and all but you don’t have to do this.”

  His smile fades. “Do you really think so little of yourself that somebody might not ask you on a date for genuine reasons?”

  “But… it’s you, I’m not your type.”

  I squeak when he pushes me against the wall beside Mr. C’s office door and crushes his mouth to mine. His lips, so warm, slightly moist and soft, move against my own, coaxing me to comply and I melt into it, allowing his tongue to taste mine.

  I hum, my hands gripping the lapels of his suit jacket as his body presses mine into the wall. We kiss forever until things start to get more heated and his erection presses against my hip.

  When he pulls back, panting, his eyes on mine, he sucks on my lower lip and smiles. “Saturday, six PM. And wear whatever the fuck you want.”

  He straightens up and smooths down his jacket before walking away, leaving me with the need to change my panties.

  I look around after admiring his strong, tall form vanish around the corner, and make sure nobody saw us before heading back to my desk.