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Kitten

Page 10

by Jack Harbon


  “Chivalry isn’t dead,” Kit teased.

  “I need to talk to someone for a moment, but I don’t want you to sit here all night. I invited you for work, but I also want you to have some fun. Okay?” Roman’s gaze was pointed and, in the strangest twist of the night, seemed to be filled with genuine concern.

  “Yeah,” Kit nodded. “I’ll try to have some fun.”

  “Good. I’ll be back in a moment.” He disappeared into the crowd of socialites and internet celebrities. Kit wanted to call out for Roman to come back so he wouldn’t be here alone, but he knew this was important. This was business. Whatever he wanted to do with Chelsia was important for Roman, and for the company.

  To keep himself busy, Kit occupied his time raiding the table of food, tasting a little of everything he could get his hands on. Out of all the work-related events, this place had the best food. Eleven Madison Park wanted what this party had, Kit decided. Between sipping on glasses of champagne and dancing with a few recognizable faces on YouTube, Kit found himself letting go of his nerves entirely. Jaylen slipped from his mind, washed away in a sea of tart booze and electric music.

  When he needed a break, Kit took a seat at his table and caught his breath, a lazy smile permanently etched into his face. Not only was he having fun, but he was also making connections. Before the wooziness of alcohol hit him, he’d spoken to three different influencers that were looking for advertising agencies for future projects they had, and with how successful Yellow Fall had been, they were curious to hear more. In between Lil Yachty songs, Kit took down their information. Roman was going to be impressed, he could already tell.

  “Are you with Yellow Fall?” he heard a man ask. He glanced around until he found a guy not much older than him sitting at the table beside his.

  “Yeah! Yeah, I’m Roman’s assistant.”

  “That sounds like an incredible opportunity. I hear Roman is a tough guy to work for. You must drink a lot of those having to deal with him every day.” The man gestured to the nearly empty glass of champagne in his hand. Kit cracked a smile.

  “He’s not the easiest boss, but he could be worse.”

  “You must deal with a lot of stress in that environment. Especially with the money problems Yellow Fall has been having lately. Oh, you’re empty.” He snapped for a waiter and handed Kit another glass.

  “Thanks,” Kit said, placing the empty one on the table. Whatever kind of champagne this was, Kit needed to find out the brand because he wanted to drink it every night. He took a long sip of the new glass. “What were we talking about?”

  “You were telling me what was going on with the financial problems at Yellow Fall,” the man said with a smile.

  Kit blinked and tilted his head. He couldn’t remember telling this guy about it. Still, he said, “Yeah, Roman was saying earlier. Someone’s—”

  Before Kit could finish, Roman was at his side and pulling him away from the table. “That’s enough, Kit.”

  The man he’d been talking to smirked and stood. “Roman, do you want to tell me about that problem?”

  Roman ignored him and dragged Kit away. Once they were out in the hall, Kit stopped walking and looked back at Roman. “What was that for?” he demanded.

  “How much have you had to drink?”

  “Not a lot! Just like, three glasses. Maybe four?”

  “In forty-five minutes? Jesus, Kit. You never talk to journalists about business. You should know this.”

  The tone of his voice set something off in Kit. It was a light switch shift in emotions, up one moment and down the very next. His stomach churned and his eyes watered. He could tell that Roman was disappointed in him. He could hear it in his voice, the same way his father talked to him years before. The same way his mother shook her head in shame. Like he wasn’t good enough. Like he was worthless, just another stupid child that was more of a burden than anything else.

  His breaths became shallow, and his eyes were wild, darting from photographer to photographer. Everything was too much. The laughter. The pounding music. The glittering and glimmering and shining of the party. He stuffed his hand in his pocket searching for the card before he took off for the elevator.

  “Kit,” Roman exclaimed. He barely made it inside before the doors closed and they were heading up to the seventh floor. “What’s going on right now?” he asked.

  Kit couldn’t speak. He knew that if he said anything, he’d fall apart in the elevator. He had to keep it together, just for a little bit longer. When the doors finally opened, he hurried to the fifth room. He swiped the card and bounded inside, finally allowing the tears to fall.

  Everything was ruined. Everything was ruined. He took a seat on the bed and put his face in his hands. It was all his fault. Tonight was supposed to be about letting loose and having fun, and look how that had gone.

  Roman closed the hotel door and took a seat beside Kit. “Talk to me.”

  Kit didn’t know where to start. And then he did. “I’m sorry, Roman. I’m sorry for ruining tonight. I don’t know why I said yes to this. I always fuck things up. I always make things into a big mess.” He could hear his father say the last sentence with him. That was his favorite thing to say. “I know how much you care about appearances, and Jaylen showed up and embarrassed the both of us. I almost talked to that reporter guy. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.”

  “Tell me how it was supposed to go.”

  “Not like this! I bought this room because–” Kit caught himself before said too much.

  It was too late, however. “Why did you get this room?”

  “I wanted you to notice me! That’s what Michelle told me to do. You never want to talk about what happened at the restaurant. You always change the subject and make it seem like it didn’t mean anything to you. I was gonna ‘accidentally’ spill something on you and then you’d have to spend the night here with me.” As he admitted to his plan, he couldn’t help but laugh at himself. It was stupid. It probably would have made Roman more upset with him. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “I’m thinking you don’t drink champagne very often. Am I right?”

  Kit nodded reluctantly. “It’s so good though, Roman,” he whined.

  “Come here,” he said quietly. Kit sniffed hard, unsure if he’d heard him right. “Come here,” he repeated.

  Kit scooted closer and let Roman hug him close. “You didn’t ruin tonight for me. You’re drunk, and you’re reading too far into this. Whoever that guy was isn’t a problem. I’ve dealt with someone who didn’t know how to let go either. And I understand your enthusiasm to drink so much. It is good. I’m going to get someone to have that journalist removed for harassing you, and then I’m getting you something to eat to get rid of all the alcohol in your system. Can you stay here until I get back?”

  Kit nodded. Roman stood and grabbed the key card from the nightstand. Kit watched him close the door before he brought his knees to his chest and pressed his forehead against them.

  He had to be better. He had to do better than tonight, he knew. From what he could see, things were starting to go his way. This job, his new dynamic with his friends, and even how Roman treated him. He couldn’t afford to fuck things up now, not when they were going so well.

  Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was severely out of his league. He could only hope that Roman didn’t see him that way.

  13

  Inferior

  Kit’s eyes slowly parted the next morning, his mouth dry and his head throbbing. It had been a long time since he’d woken up with a hangover, but he was quite familiar with the feeling. Back in college, it was almost a weekly thing, waking up and running to the bathroom before he threw up all over the place.

  This was different though. He didn’t feel nauseous. He felt dry, and thirsty for a large glass of water. Kit blinked twice, prepared to head into the kitchen to grab water and greet Bria, but instead, he found Roman staring back at him.

  He jumped in
response, startled by the man lying beside him. Suddenly last night came rushing back to him. The fight with Jaylen. The amount of alcohol he’d downed in under an hour. The reporter. God, the fucking reporter. That was where his memory ended. Had something else happened between him and Roman? Kit’s heartbeat quickened.

  “Did we—”

  “No,” Roman said simply, as if he knew the question Kit hadn’t even asked yet. Kit let out a breath of relief. Had anything close to that happened, he wanted to remember it. He wanted to burn that into his head and remember it forever.

  “How come you’re in my bed then?” he croaked. He seriously needed some water.

  “You’re in my bed.”

  Kit rolled over onto his side and looked across the room at the other bed. It had clearly been slept in, but he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t still over there. “What happened?”

  “We had dinner. You were acting loopy, so I put you to bed over there. Around three in the morning, you came stumbling over to my bed, saying you didn’t want to be alone. I was too tired to fight with you, so I let you sleep over here.”

  Though Roman had probably woken up only moments before Kit, he spoke with a clear head. It might have had something to do with the sobriety he’d exhibited last night. Kit chewed his bottom lip, unsure what to say. He didn’t doubt Roman’s story.

  He was the kind of drunk that got lovey-dovey with people, throwing himself on top of them and demanding cuddles before he passed out. The fact that Roman hadn’t kicked him out of bed and down onto the floor was a miracle in and of itself.

  “Sorry,” Kit murmured. Truth be told, he wasn’t all that sorry about it. Roman looked completely different from this angle. His eyelids were heavy, and the stubble on his chin didn’t look styled professionally. His typically-gelled black hair was now free of any product and wily strands twisted in every direction. He looked handsome even right after waking up.

  Fuck off, Kit thought to himself.

  “I should probably get ready to leave,” Kit said. He scooted to the edge of the bed and sat up. As he moved, the covers pulled away, revealing Roman’s perfectly-sculpted chest. Kit felt a blush creeping up his cheeks, but he couldn’t look away. His eyes moved lower and lower until they came upon the trail of hair leading to the waistband of Roman’s boxer briefs. He swallowed hard.

  “Kit,” Roman said, amused. “Go get ready.”

  “Yes sir,” he said, snapping himself out of the trance. He was already embarrassed with himself having demanded cuddles from his boss. Sporting a hard-on after clearly ogling his near-naked body would mean certain death.

  Kit grabbed his clothing from the ground and hurried to the bathroom. The headache was dull and irritating, but it was nothing he wasn’t used to. He washed his face with water and took a moment to catch his breath. Whatever had happened last night was no big deal. They didn’t hook up. They didn’t kiss again. The only thing close to intimacy besides this morning was the way Roman held him.

  “Shit,” Kit murmured, laughing at himself. The way Roman had held him in his arms was something he wanted to feel again and again. He had to keep it together for now, though. Roman had taken care of him, treated him like a person instead of an assistant. Hell, he probably even broke Jaylen’s finger. Before, Kit thought that hottest thing he’d seen was this straight guy he’d been crushing on in his English class making eyes at him, but now… Now Roman calmly putting Jaylen in his place had taken that spot.

  By the time Kit had himself together, Roman stood in the corner of the room, pushing down the sheets from the beds into a nice little pile. Kit stopped in his tracks.

  “Are you… doing the cleaning lady’s job for her?”

  Roman looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Maybe.”

  “You’re something else,” Kit said, shaking his head.

  He gave the room one last once over before he walked to the door. He motioned for Roman to follow him. On their way to the elevator, the pang of emptiness finally hit him. He’d dropped seven hundred dollars on that hotel room, and he hadn’t even gotten laid in it.

  *

  That following Wednesday, Kit arrived at the office at his regular time, coffee in hand. He’d left the house a little early so that he could talk to Michelle at the shop about what was going on in her life. Ever since that party, the two of them had started talking and getting to know each other better.

  It also didn’t hurt that Kit knew Michelle was interested in Chad. Chad was currently more interested in hooking up with guys, but he’d seen the way they’d looked at each other at the party. There was something there, and he wanted to help facilitate the interactions they had together.

  Plus, it was easier focusing on their relationship than the one he had with Roman. Well, the lack of one, as it were. Ever since their night at the Mandarin Hotel, Roman had reverted back to his old ways. In his office, it was more of the same old gig; Roman would make a slick comment about Kit’s job performance, and Kit would return with a jab of his own. But when Roman spoke to him in front of everyone else, there was something different about his behavior.

  He nearly ignored Kit during their team meeting on Monday, and Kit tried to be understanding. At the end of the day, he was merely an assistant, and he didn’t have much to offer when it came to working with clients or consulting with cameramen. Kit hadn’t let that bit get under his skin as much as the other instances.

  On Tuesday, Kit had left the seating area to speak with Roman, only to find that he and Yolanda were in the middle of the conversation. He stood patient and out of the way, but still Roman gave him a nasty glare and made a comment under his breath. Yolanda, amused by Roman’s reaction, did the same, making a joke about him almost being a piece of furniture around the office. It took everything Kit had not to offer to help lay her edges and add some concealer to the middle part of her new wig.

  Walking into the office that Wednesday had Kit on edge. He wasn’t sure what kind of petty remark Roman would make today, and truth be told, he wasn’t even sure if he could hold his tongue this time. Whatever was going on with him wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t fair for Roman to take it out on him. He placed the coffee down on the table and grabbed two of the cups, walking around the room and handing them out to everyone. He placed Yolanda’s down, and she looked up from her computer screen.

  “Did you not get those little cardboard cup-holders? Tsk tsk.”

  “Your wig strap is showing,” Kit said. He turned on his heels and walked back to the kitchen, positive that Yolanda was frantically checking to see if the adjustable straps actually were showing or not. Today was not the day to test him.

  Kit delivered Roman’s coffee as well, though his efforts were thankless. Before leaving, he stopped and turned around. He wasn’t sure what had come over him, but he was going to blame it on the look of disinterest Roman had just given him.

  “Hey, Roman?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t insult me again.” The words had a mind of their own.

  Roman looked up from his notepad and raised an eyebrow. He placed his pen down slowly before sitting back in his chair. “Excuse me?”

  “I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I didn’t want to bring it up in front of Yolanda. Don’t talk to me the way you did yesterday. I’m not your slave, and you don’t pay me enough to allow myself to be insulted and demeaned like that. And while we’re on it, don’t let anyone else here talk to me that way, either. Especially not Yolanda.”

  Part of Kit wanted to bolt for the door and never look back. The way Roman’s gaze settled on him had him terrified. He wouldn’t let himself show it. Sure, they’d already talked about how Roman was an asshole at work, but it had never been like this before. Roman didn’t look at him like he was worthless.

  Roman didn’t let other people join in on his critiques, like a pack of bullies.

  Kit may have had a thing for Roman, but he wasn’t going to let himself be treated like this just because Roman was sometimes nice t
o him.

  “Is there anything else you’d like to get off your chest?” Roman asked simply.

  Kit was fully prepared to lose his job over this, and at the moment, he didn’t care if that happened or not. He couldn’t let someone punk him like this. He may have hated the people he’d been raised by, but that was one thing he wasn’t brought up to be. He was nobody’s pushover.

  “I just want you to remember,” Kit said finally, “You may be my superior, but I’m inferior to no one. Enjoy your coffee.” He turned and closed the door, squeezing his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself. He’d most certainly screwed everything up. Roman was going to fire him and he’d be out of a paycheck.

  The rest of the day proved that statement to be false, however. Roman didn’t come out of his office until seven. He marched to the elevator, wordless and ignoring the quizzical looks. Roman was usually the last to leave, packing up at eight o’clock. The fact that he was heading home early made people wonder what exactly was going on.

  “That’s weird,” Barbie said, looking over Kit’s shoulder as Roman disappeared into the elevator. “I wonder why he left in a hurry.”

  Kit didn’t respond. He had a feeling it was about what they’d discussed hours ago. Before the awkward silence grew any longer, Barbie launched back into her story about how she and Kevin went two days without speaking to one another.

  After work, Kit hailed a cab and climbed into the back. He gave the driver directions to Bria’s apartment then put his head back on the seat, sighing. Today was a whirlwind of confusion, and he was just glad to be out of the office. Ten minutes into the cab ride, his phone rang.

  He looked over Roman’s name and frowned. “Hello?” he answered.

 

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