Wrong Number

by R. L. Kenderson

  I really hoped my assistant, who missed nothing, wouldn’t be able to tell we’d just had sex in my office.

  I had moved back to Minnesota without a job, and it had taken me weeks to find one that I wanted. I was either too qualified or not qualified in the right areas. I hadn’t even been at my new position a month, and I had just committed a very fireable offense.

  I rubbed my hand down my face, frustrated with myself when Indy opened the door.

  She appeared like she had when she first stepped into my office. For some reason, that was sexier than if she looked like she’d been rolling around in my bed all night.

  “Why are you staring at me like that?” she asked.

  I laughed. “Because I can’t tell anything happened between us.”

  She tilted her head in confusion. “Isn’t that what we want?”

  “Yes, but it makes me want you all over again.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “No one’s going to know what went on in here, but I know. And that is fucking hot as hell.”

  She grinned at me. “Well …” she said, her tone teasing.

  “Well what?”

  “You might want to take your turn in the bathroom.”

  Curious as to what she was talking about, I went straight to the mirror.

  My hair was still in place, and my shirt only had minor wrinkles. I looked down at my pants but already knew they were in the same state as my shirt.

  “Turn your head to the side,” she suggested.

  I looked to the left. Nothing. I turned to the right. “Oh.” Right behind my jaw was a set of dark red lips.

  “Sorry.”

  I smiled at her as I grabbed a paper towel and some soap. “No harm, no foul.” I started trying to clean off the mark, and now, half my neck was red, yet you could still pretty much see the lip marks. “What’s this stuff made of? Magic marker?”

  “It’s last-all-day lipstick. It’s not supposed to come off, but I put lip balm over it because I hate the dry feeling. It made it wet again.” She cringed. “Sorry about that. I do it without even thinking about it.” Her eyes brightened, and she held up a finger. “Hold on. Don’t rub anymore.”

  She stepped away, and I heard the mini fridge open. “Yes,” she said excitedly. The door closed, and she walked back to the bathroom. “Take off your shirt.”

  “I think that’s what got us into this mess.”

  She laughed. “Just do it.”

  “Okay.” I yanked the tail of my shirt from my pants and unbuttoned it. I hung it up on the hook behind the bathroom.

  “T-shirt too.”

  I didn’t argue, just did as the lady had said. I might know things about business, but I knew nothing about makeup.

  Stepping inside the small bathroom with me, she threw away the paper towel from my hand and grabbed a new one.

  “Is that half-and-half?” I asked.

  She smiled. “Yes. Milk and yogurt can take off lipstick in a pinch, so I figured this was the next best thing.”

  She poured a little bit onto the towel, holding it over the sink, and wiped it over my neck. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of her gentle touch.

  “Is it working?” I asked after a few seconds.

  “Yes, but it’s a slow process. It’s not as good as makeup remover.”

  I kept my eyes closed and let her work. The rhythmic movements were putting me to sleep.

  “While we’re stuck here, I have another question about Patrick.”

  She paused for a moment. “Okay.” She started cleaning my neck again.

  “Has he ever done anything harmful to you?” If he had, I was going to kill him. I’d fire him, and then I’d kill him.

  “No. He likes to throw his weight around, and I can tell he doesn’t like me or Leslie. The only ones on my team he likes are the guys and Donna—because she is as much of an ass-kisser as he is. But even then, he’ll always pick the guys over her if he can.”

  I frowned. “That’s something you should take to HR.”

  “Pass.”

  I opened my eyes. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because I can’t prove anything, and calling up HR with a complaint that is pretty much he’s mean to girls isn’t going to accomplish anything. They might have him take some sensitivity training or some other bullshit, but he’ll still be my supervisor. And then he’ll make work even harder for me.”

  I wrapped my fingers around her wrist. “You shouldn’t have to work in a toxic environment, Indy.”

  She smiled sadly and shook her head. “You’re so cute.”

  “Cute? What the fuck does me being cute have to do with this?”

  She dropped her hand, and I let go.

  “This place isn’t the exception, Cal; it’s the rule. Women are treated like this in every business everywhere. I’m not saying every man is like this. Not every woman is treated this way, but there is most likely some woman who is being treated like shit by some man—or worse, by men—simply because she’s a woman. Unless you’re lucky enough to work somewhere that’s mostly women, but even then some of the most sexist people I’ve ever encountered are other women.”

  I was horrified. “That’s awful.”

  “It’s because society teaches us that we’re all each other’s competition instead of each other’s allies.” She nodded her head toward me. “Now, tilt your head again, so I can finish.”

  I closed my eyes once more as she went back to work.

  I’d had no idea. My last job had been almost all men, which I could now see was part of the problem that Indy was talking about. I wasn’t any better.

  “I don’t want you to have to work for that asshole anymore.”

  She didn’t respond. I opened my eyes to see her get another paper towel with soap and water. I met her eyes as she drew it over my skin.

  She stepped back. “All done.”

  I pulled her close. “I’m serious, Indy. I’m not going to stand for sexist pieces of shit working here.”

  She smiled at me, and she actually looked like she was trying not to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. You’re just sexy when you’re mad.”

  I wasn’t lost on the fact that this was something that men said to women all the time, as if their anger were cute instead of a real feeling that should be validated.

  I growled but smiled back. “I’m glad you think I’m sexy.”

  “I do.” She put her hand on my bare chest. “How could I not with these hot muscles you have hiding under your clothes?”

  “I could say the same for you.” I looked into the mirror and turned my head. “Hey, you got it.”

  She smiled at me. “I’m pretty good, aren’t I?”

  “The best,” I said with a grin on my face.

  Suddenly, the air felt thick, and awkwardness descended around us. My response was perhaps a little too relationship-like.

  She stepped from my arms. “You’d better hurry up and get dressed again, and I should get back out there. People are going to wonder why I was in here for so long.”

  I hated for her to leave with uncomfortableness between us, but she was right.

  I hurried and put both my shirts back on, and then I sat behind my desk as Indy walked out the door.

  “Keith,” I called out, and my assistant came running.

  “My, she was in here a long time.”

  I could tell Keith had questions about why, but I ignored his comment. “Close the door and sit down, please.”

  After Keith did as I’d commanded, he asked, “What’s going on?”

  “I need to find out everything you have on Patrick Mullen.”

  Keith brightened. “Are you going to finally fire his ass?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t like him?”

  Keith looked at me like I was stupid. “Are you kidding? He doesn’t like anyone who’s not white, male, and Christian.”

  “So, he’s not just sexi
st?”

  “He’s homophobic and racist, but he’ll be the first one to tell you he likes everyone.” Keith rolled his eyes. “It’s a fucking joke. Even the other white men in the office steer clear of him.”

  It was good to know that I had some decent employees out there. But this had me thinking. “Why did Polly put up with him?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “No.”

  “Patrick’s father-in-law is on the board. No one liked him in Chicago, so when this office opened up, he was sent here.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  Keith looked insulted. “Because it’s my job to know.”

  “Right. I mean no offense.”

  “Well, some was taken,” he pointed out.

  I held back my smile. I liked my assistant’s boldness. “My apologies.”

  This news meant that it was going to be harder to reprimand someone like Patrick than I had originally thought. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go as far as firing, but I did know he needed to stop treating his employees with bias.

  “Keith I need you to schedule some things as soon as possible.”

  Twenty

  Indy

  “What about a hot dog and a bun?” I asked Leslie from her couch.

  She looked up from her phone from where she sat on the floor. “Uhh … no.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea for a costume. It has an underlying sexual joke. He’s the hot dog, and you’re the bun.”

  “I am not going as a giant carb. I want to look sexy.”

  I went back to my phone and continued searching for costume ideas.

  “Have you asked Marcus to go yet?”

  I smiled guiltily. “No?”

  “Was that a question or a statement?”

  “Okay, fine. I kind of forgot.”

  “Indy, it’s Saturday. I told you to ask him on Monday.”

  “I know; I know,” I whined. “I got distracted.”

  “Yeah, by our new boss’s penis.”

  “That’s not true.” It was kind of true.

  We hadn’t had sex in the office again all week, but there had been a couple of stolen touches here and there. And because of this, I didn’t feel quite right about asking Marcus to go. Cal and I weren’t an item, but I couldn’t help but feel like it was cheating. If Marcus asked me, I would probably say yes, but being the initiator made me feel uncomfortable.

  “And if you saw his penis, you would be distracted too,” I told her.

  “Ooh … do tell. You’ve been kind of secretive about him.”

  Normally, I told my best friend everything, but it felt wrong to kiss and tell about our boss. I knew Leslie would never do anything, but I didn’t want to give anyone any ammo to use against him.

  “Sorry, that’s all I’m saying.”

  “Indy, that’s not fair. At least tell me how big it is.”

  I smiled and held my hands up to indicate how long he was.

  Leslie gasped. “Shut up. He’s that big?”

  I lifted a shoulder.

  Putting the back of her hand to her forehead, Leslie pretended to faint. “Be still my heart.” She snapped back up and narrowed her eyes. “Wait. How thick is it? Because if it’s a pencil dick, then who cares how long it is?”

  I used both hands to show her Cal’s girth because I couldn’t do it with one hand.

  She put her hand up to her head again. “Be still my vagina.”

  All I could do was laugh at her.

  “What are you going as?” Leslie asked me.

  “I have no idea. I’ve been too worried about your costume.”

  “I suppose you need to find out if you’re taking a date first. If you bring Marcus, you can be a hot dog and a bun.”

  I wrinkled my nose.

  “I saw that,” she said, pointing a finger at me. “If you don’t want to be a bun, why would I?”

  “Point well taken.” I scrolled through some more pictures. “What about ketchup and mustard? Chocolate and milk? Peanut butter and jelly?”

  “No food. Sexy, remember?”

  “Right. Harley Quinn and the Joker?”

  “Nah.”

  I found a picture, and I had to laugh.

  Leslie looked up from her phone. “What?”

  “You said no food.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “If Marcus goes, we could all be a s’more. Two graham crackers, a marshmallow, and a chocolate bar.”

  “Okay, I kind of like the idea of a group thing, but I still don’t like the food theme. And while we’d definitely get everyone’s attention, I’m sure people would say we couldn’t be in the couples contest because we were a group of four.”

  “People? Or one person?”

  She laughed. “We both know who I’m talking about. He won’t give up the prize without a fight.”

  I lay down on Leslie’s couch and stretched out my legs. “What about a favorite TV show or movie? You and Asher could go as a couple on there.”

  “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “Finally, you like something I suggested,” I teased.

  “Hey. I said I like the s’mores idea too. In a way.”

  I snorted. “In a way,” I repeated.

  I was getting tired of looking at costumes and needed to clear my mind. I put my phone on my chest and closed my eyes.

  “Indy?”

  I blinked open my eyes. I was on Leslie’s couch, and she was standing over me.

  “Did I fall asleep?”

  “Yeah, for about an hour.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. That’s what Saturdays are for.”

  I sat up and swung my legs down to the floor. “I can’t remember the last time I took a nap. I need to do that more often.”

  Leslie laughed. “Adult naps are the best.” She pointed to the clock on the wall. “Do you want to go and get something to eat? Then, I thought we could come back and watch one of the movies we’ve been meaning to watch.”

  I yawned and stretched my arms. “Sounds like a wonderful plan. Even though I just took a nap, I don’t feel like doing anything tonight.”

  “I think it’s because we’re getting older.”

  “You shut your mouth.”

  Leslie laughed and shrugged. “Do you want to pick something up or sit and eat?”

  I was wearing leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. Leslie was dressed as comfy as me.

  “Let’s pick something up. Buca?” I asked.

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  Buca di Beppo was one of our favorite restaurants.

  We grabbed our purses and left Leslie’s place.

  Using my phone, I quickly put our order in as Leslie drove. “It should be ready about the time we get there.”

  “Perfect.”

  The restaurant wasn’t close, but it was one of the best Italian places, so it was a bit of a treat when we picked up food there. When we pulled up, Leslie parked her car and opened her door.

  “What are you doing? They bring the food to us.”

  She danced back and forth. “I have to go to the restroom.”

  I laughed. “Okay. Hurry back.”

  She ran into the building, almost knocking over the person coming out. The server walked up to the passenger window and leaned closer.

  “Are you Scott?” he asked, referring to the last name on my order.

  “Yep.”

  “Please sign here.” He handed me a receipt.

  I signed it and handed it back as another vehicle pulled up behind him.

  “I’ll have your order out here shortly.”

  “Thank you.”

  The server walked away, and I glanced into the SUV next to me. The woman in the passenger seat had brown hair. I was about to turn away when I saw the driver stand up and get out of the car.

  I gasped and ducked down in my seat. It was Cal, and he was here with another woman.

  The awful feeling of je
alousy ripped through my chest so quickly that I thought I was going to choke on it.

  I hadn’t even realized that I liked him that much. But apparently, I did because I wanted to jump out of Leslie’s car and punch the other woman in the face. Or at the very least, tell her what we’d done in his office on Monday.

  His first day, he had told everyone he wasn’t married, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a girlfriend. I really didn’t want to think he was a cheater. I knew from our conversations that when he’d moved to Minnesota, he was single. So, maybe he had just started dating this woman.

  That didn’t make me feel much better.

  When I heard the footsteps walk away and the door squeaked open, thanks to Leslie’s open window, I sat up.

  The woman was still sitting in the passenger seat, and she was staring at me like I was a weirdo.

  I supposed someone hiding behind the dashboard did look odd.

  But in my defense, she was supposed to have gone inside with Cal. Not stay there and watch me look like an ass.

  Feeling foolish and not knowing what else to do, I waved at her and said hi.

  She waved back but turned away.

  I dropped my head back onto the headrest.

  I heard the door creak open, and Leslie and the server came outside at the same time. When he realized they were going to the same vehicle, he handed her the food.

  “I feel so much better,” she said, getting in and handing me the food. “I thought I was going to wet my pants, waiting in line.”

  “I’m glad.”

  She looked over at me as she pulled her seat belt on. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “You look a little pale.”

  “Hmm. Must be because I need to eat.”

  She laughed. “Then, I must look like a ghost because I’m starving.”

  We got back on the road toward Leslie’s house.

  “What do you want to watch when we get back?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. You pick.”

  “All by myself?” She glanced at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yep. And I think I am going to ask Marcus to go to the Halloween party.”

  Leslie grinned. “Woohoo.”

  I smiled, but I was nowhere near as happy as she was.

  Twenty-One