by Mj Fields
“You told Alfred you’d keep her on, just like you would the board members.”
He laughs maniacally, “The board members have a quarter to get their shit together or get the fuck out. I don’t plan on having control that long. And she… she can go suck another dick for a job.”
His face scrunches like it hurt him to say the words. He’s got it bad for her. Real bad.
“As your assistant,” I chuckle inside at that shit, “How about you let me handle the meeting tomorrow?”
“Fuck that, I got this.” He paces back and forth. “I’ve been through worse. So much worse.”
“I know, man, but,” I pause not wanting to get too deep. “You sure about that?”
He nods. “Just needed to vent.”
“I’m here for that, man. I just don’t want you to lose it in front of her or the board.”
He stops pacing and nods again. “I got this.”
I clamp my hand on his shoulder. “I know you do, man.”
Aaaannnd… I was fucking wrong.
When I woke up, I walked out of my room in the suite to make a cup of coffee, and found a barber shaving Bass’s face, and he had obviously just cut and styled his hair.
I can’t help but think of the years he was in fashion magazines around the world. This isn’t odd for him, but for me, it’s fucked up.
“Good morning, Oliver.”
He used my full name, spoke all proper too.
So, I give him the same, “Good morning, Bastien.”
He cocks his eyebrow; my sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed.
“You’re next,” he shrugs one shoulder.
Fucker. I flip him off.
His eyes smile, but just barely.
After my hair is trimmed, and I mean, a slight trim, I’m a civilian for the first time in years, I like having scruff on my face, and hair that’s a bit unruly, we dress in suits and ties.
“I feel like a kept fucking woman, Bass,” I grumble as I tie a Windsor knot in the gray tie that matches my suit.
I’m wearing a fucking suit.
When I walk out and see Bass waiting for me, wearing a navy… suit, I can’t help but sigh.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”
“This morning was as close to preparing for prom as I ever came, Bass. It’s not something I care for.”
“Everyone needs a power suit. My right hand needs ten,” he winks.
I take the cup he offers me, and enjoy a sip of the coffee. “You know the offer still stands.”
“I can handle it.”
“If you need me–”
“I’ll let you know.” He finishes his cup of coffee and sets it down. “You ready?”
After Alfred introduces Bastien as the new CEO, I walk from his new office into the conference room. My eyes fall first on Angela Petrov. I’m a little shocked that she seems shook, albeit briefly, at my presence. We’d met that night at the restaurant. When Bastien walks in, she does the same thing. This leads me to believe she may not know the man she spent a weekend fucking was her ex-lover’s next of kin.
Although I should not be entertained, I kind of wish I had some popcorn, and I was the type to enjoy a mindless romantic comedy. But I’m not.
“Have a seat and let’s get this going. I’m sure none of you want to come off a long, hot weekend of,” Bass pauses, “whatever the hell you all did.”
Jesus Bass, I think. He’s clearly trying to get under her skin, and from the get-go.
They all laugh as they sit.
Before Bass sits, he removes his jacket and hangs it on the back of the leather chair. “I’d like this to be informal. So, if you have questions, feel free to ask.”
One of them asks, “You’re really twenty-five?”
He answers with an arrogant look on his face, and tone in his voice. “Saturday was my birthday and also the reason I didn’t join you all. I had a private party.”
How the fuck did I miss his birthday? Oh that’s right, Maisie always sends a reminder. With her forgetting things lately, I realize I need to step shit up.
Angela squirms in her chair and I hope he missed it… he didn’t.
“Your name?” he asks, reaches over and takes her coffee, and drinks it.
When everyone looks shocked, he looks at them all, except her. “Did I do something wrong? Is it not my assistant’s job to get me coffee?”
Fuck, Bass, really?
And he continues, “Well? Tell me how things run around here.”
She clears her throat. “That was mine. And no, I don’t typically fetch coffee. However, Mr. Josephs, feel free to drink it.”
“Feel free to call me Mr. Joe. All the others under me do. Less formal. More personal.” I look at Alfred and he sinks down in his seat. Clearly, he wishes he could disappear too. Bass goes on, “Caramel macchiato with extra caramel and extra espresso?”
Her face begins to flush as she nods curtly.
And he continues, “From all I’ve learned of you these past two and a half days, I’d have taken you for a woman who drank her coffee strong and without the bullshit.”
She opens and shuts her mouth like she’s trying to think of what to say. I’m happy when he doesn’t hone in on it.
“Questions, let’s have them.” He leans back and takes another drink of her coffee.
“Do you plan on making staffing cuts?” one of the board members asks.
“Sure do,” he responds like a conceited ass.
“Care to elaborate?”
“Sure don’t.” He takes another fucking drink.
I kick him under the table. He glares at me briefly.
He leans forward and looks around, giving them each eye contact. “Let’s cut the bullshit here, okay?”
They don’t respond, and that pisses me off.
“You have seventeen employees in the mailroom who are sitting on their hands, doing not a damn thing for half the day. Ten straight-up have been caught on camera sleeping and have yet to be fired. It’s in their employee files, for God’s sake. They need to go and so does the woman in HR who allows it to happen year after damn year. The woman in HR isn’t the only one who needs to be replaced.”
He’s not wrong, but this meeting is going in a direction it should not. But he continues.
“There’s a man in accounting who has had complaint after complaint for making lewd comments to women. He’s a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen. He’s going. There are more, and no, I don’t need anyone’s input on who to hire or fire.”
He stands and paces. “We have three jets. That means six pilots and however many flight attendants that sit and wait for one of you or a shareholder to call up for an emergency meeting in Hawaii. That’s gonna change. All of you have way too many perks and are paid more than the employees who put in over forty hours a week, and for what? Being here a few hours a month?”
One of them interrupts, “To be fair, son—”
“I’m not your son. Not from wife one, wife two, or any of the secretaries you stick your nub of a dick in—”
“Bastien.” Alfred stands. “Can I have a moment?”
Thank God.
“With all due respect, Alfred, no, you may not.” He puts his hands on the table and looks them all over. “I’m not some trust fund, entitled fuck who owes any of you a damn thing. And I’m the majority shareholder. It is my way.”
“That’s not how the bylaws read, Josephs.” The speaker’s nameplate reads, Burns.
Bass throws his head back and laughs at Burns, then becomes entirely too serious, “Fine, let’s have a vote.”
His says this as a slap in their faces, he has majority and would win. This isn’t going well, and Alfred isn’t stopping this shit show, so I do
I stand and announce, “Let’s take a break.”
“Let’s.” He glares around the table. “You can all breathe easy. Apparently, the old man gave you a pass for an entire quarter after I was appointed. But you can bet your asses I’ll be payin
g attention.”
Once in his private office, I shut the door behind the three of us and tell him the truth, “You need to calm down, man.”
“Calm down? Those assholes—every. Fucking. One of them—are entitled pieces of shit.”
Alfred interjects, “They’ve also been here a long time.”
“Doesn’t mean it was a good time,” he huffs.
He tells Bass, “They worked very well with your father.”
And Bass responds as I knew he would, “The old man was not my fucking father.”
“That old man gave you a company that he birthed and loved.” Alfred’s words are meant to prove something I know will be lost on Bass. It further enrages him.
When he walks to the conference door and opens it, I follow him.
Angela is the only one who remains. She looks up. “Do you have a moment?”
He snaps, “Ms. Petrov, I’m not sure I do.”
She stands and extends her hand. Is she out of her damn mind?
She pulls it back and looks down, her eyebrows knit, and then she looks up at him. “Mr. Josephs, the mailroom issue is something I’d like to discuss.”
“I’m pretty sure I just made it clear I’m really not up to listening to people’s opinions.”
She pushes, “Well, I’m sure you’d understand if—”
When he lights up a cigarette, she stops.
Then she scolds him, “There is no smoking in the building.”
“Apparently, I own the damn building, so I guess that means shit to me.”
She pushes, “It’s a law.”
He takes another drag. And here we go, I lean against the door jam.
She looks at her yellow legal pad. “The head of HR, Emilia, has been here for—”
He interrupts, “Did I not make myself clear?”
She’s not backing down. “Those people you say sleep on the job—”
“I didn’t say it; she did.” He blows out a huge cloud of smoke.
That’s not a good sign, he’s provoking her.
She straightens her stance. “I would ask you not to raise your voice at me, and—”
I clear my throat to get his attention, when he doesn’t reply, I say his mane, “Bass.”
I step back so he can follow, but when his footsteps stop, I turn back just as he slams the door in my face.
Fucker.
Through the door I can hear him very clearly. “Not raise my fucking voice, Angela? Are you insane?”
“No, I’m not, but—”
“Did you think I didn’t recognize you with different colored hair? Do you think because you spread your legs for me that you have a pass?”
Oh shit, he went there.
“That may have kept you here for the old man, but it sure as fuck won’t for me.”
“I know damn well you were fucking him. I’m no fool. I know damn well you thought you could spread that sweet, little pussy out in front of me and—”
“That’s enough!” she snaps.
“Did I touch a hot spot?”
Angela whisper yells at him, “How dare you be angry at me?”
“How dare I?” He laughs. “How dare I?”
When she doesn’t respond he continues, “Let me ask you something; if your little girl was on her knees and I was fucking that little mouth of hers, how would you—”
I hear a slap and look at Alfred, he shrugs and gives me a look saying he felt it was warranted…he’s not wrong.
“You know what? I was going to give you the courtesy of three months, but fuck that. Your replacement is already here, and I’m sure he won’t try to fuck me to keep his job.”
Fuck, I sigh, Alfred’s eyes narrow, he’s pissed.
She speaks, “Those people in the mailroom are adults with special needs. They do the job for far less than anyone else does, and it makes them feel good. If I were you, I would consider that.”
“I’m sure I would have figured it out myself.”
“No, Bass, you wouldn’t have.”
“You don’t know me!” He yells and a bit of desperation is in his voice.
“You’re right; I certainly don’t. Had I known you, I would have never—”
He laughs. “You knew exactly what you were doing. You’re quite the little actress, aren’t you?”
“What I am is an honest woman who had a physical relationship with a man who treated me with respect.”
“Respect? You think I respect you?”
“I wasn’t talking about you, Bass. I was talking about Jean.”
Enraged, he yells, “Get the hell out of here!”
He’s snapped and I can’t let him continue. “Open the fucking door, Bass.”
Then Angela snaps, “I don’t know what sick game you’re playing, but I really hope it works out for you. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll grow up along the way. Then maybe you can become the man you pretended to be.”
Using my shoulder, I ram the locked door and luckily it opens with little damage. Angela storms out and Alfred hurries past me and follows her out the door.
“Bass, what the fuck? You said you could handle it.”
“How well do I handle liars?”
He’s fucking hurting.
“You don’t.” I run my hand over my freshly cut and styled hair. “But you said—”
“I didn’t think she’d act like she didn’t do a fucking thing wrong. I expected…” He stops and shakes his head.
“You expected what, man?” I ask.
“I have no fucking clue.” He sighs, “More. I expected more.”
I hit him with some reality. “How will she take care of her family?”
“Her fucking ex is still employed here, isn’t he?” He turns his back to me.
“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, huh?”
Twenty minutes later, Alfred walks back into the office and tosses a file on the desk then pulls an ashtray out of his coat pocket and sets it beside it.
“You need to read this. Then you need to leave that woman alone.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not afraid of being fired by you, Bass. I work for your father’s estate. I don’t owe you a penny, nor a moment beyond what has previously been decided by your father. But I will give you some advice free of charge. You’ve pissed a lot of people off today. Some of them, I couldn’t give a damn less about. That woman, she isn’t one to piss off.”
“Because she’s fucking delusional? Crazy?”
“No, Bass, because she could be your greatest asset, like she was your father’s, or she could ruin you. But regardless of what you decide, you owe her a fucking apology.”
Bass responds as I expected, “I don’t owe her shit.”
Alfred nods. “All right then. I’ll leave you to it.”
Once he leaves, Bass looks at me. “You’re my assistant.” He points to the folder. “Assist.”
“Nice tone.” I take my feet off the desk then lean forward for the folder and open a file labeled, Natasha Petrov.
“The fuck?” I say as I look at the first picture in the pile.
There are pictures of a baby with a cleft lip. Each picture I flip through tells the story of the hell this kid went through, and I sense Angela isn’t the kind of a mother I was born to, so she too went through some pain.
Each picture shows the baby a bit older, after what I assume are surgeries to fix the birth defect. I’m unsure of what age she is in the last, but she’s in a school uniform and she’s smiling. All I see is a small scar.
Fuck, she looks familiar.
“The old man and her? Or her and me?” Bass asks.
“You said something about her kid.”
“So what?” He huffs. “She fucked Jean. Then his kid.”
I know he’s hurting, but memories, long ago memories are stirred, and I need a fucking break. I stand and walk to the door. “Alfred’s right; you owe her an apology.”
“For fucking what?” he snaps.
“The comment about fucking her kid’s mouth.”
Chapter Fourteen
Oliver
I need a break from this shit already, I think, looking for a place to hide.
But I can’t fucking hide, I need to help Bass straighten his shit. As annoyed as I am by how he handled things just moments ago, I get it. He’s more in touch with his emotions than I am or ever will be.
Thankfully, Alfred gave us a quick tour of the place this morning and I know Angela’s office is one door away from the conference room.
When I open it, there isn’t anyone inside. Her assistant’s desk is unoccupied, and I walk past it to her door.
I open it and face her desk, behind it a wall of bookcases, on the middle shelves are pictures of Angela and her daughter.
“Damn it, Bass,” I mumble as I walk behind her desk in hopes of finding her phone number, an address, something so that he can contact her to apologize.
It’s more than obvious Bass has a love for older women, none I’ve ever liked. Though, this one, is unlike all the others. She has a kid, she has a job. They didn’t even exchange numbers or real names. And from what I understand, she left after a call from Alfred, she didn’t just ditch him like he thinks.
I sit at her desk and nudge the track pad for her computer and a picture pops up.
“Oh hell no.” My pulse races when I see a blonde, one that looks a fuck of a lot like Grace. She must have been the same girl I almost ran over on my bike a year ago. The one I–
“She’s been gone all of ten minutes and you’re already in her seat?”
I look up to see the woman I know from employee files is Autumn, Angela’s secretary.
“Just looking around,” I say as I stand.
“For what?” she hisses.
I’m in no mood for this shit, not when the girl whose haunted my black and white dreams for a year now is tangible to me, not when Bass is fucking shit up left and right.
“You can stow the bullshit, Autumn. I didn’t fire your boss and I certainly don’t need to tiptoe around your feelings.”
“You’re an asshole too.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
“And you may need to stow the girl power shit and be happy he hasn’t fired you, too.” Before she can say shit, I tell her, “As your new boss, I’m gonna ask you to get me Angela’s number and address.”
