Bad for the Boss_A BWAM Office Romance

by Talia Hibbert

  Everything okay?

  And she had replied simply:

  All good.

  He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.

  He squinted at his desk, tapping its surface irritably. It looked the same as always—but it shouldn’t, really. A miracle had occurred there; he’d undressed Jennifer Johnson. And holy fuck, he was more than ready to do it again.

  Martha appeared in his open doorway, a brown paper bag in hand. “I’m back. I got your lunch order.”

  Lunch. Of course!

  He usually took his in the office—Martha, bless her, picked it up when she went out for her own. But it wouldn’t kill him to leave his office once in a while. Maybe he’d go down to Rich’s floor, see if the old boy wanted to go out.

  And maybe he’d catch sight of a certain somebody while he was down there.

  Pushing his work aside, Theo stood. “Sorry, Martha, I should’ve said. I’m going out for lunch.”

  She blinked owlishly. “You are?”

  “Yep. Gotta go.” He picked up his coat and hurried out, leaving Martha to gawp in his wake.

  When Theo stepped out into the main floor, all typing stilled. Chatter stopped. What felt like a hundred pairs of eyes turned in his direction. He could almost hear their thoughts: Theo Chamberlain, leaving his office? Has hell frozen over?

  Something like that.

  When he arrived on Rich’s floor, the response was even worse. Some of the people working down here had never actually seen him. He shifted uncomfortably as they stopped what they were doing to stare.

  The decor down here was very… natural. There seemed to be an excess of overgrown potted plants. He wound his way past several on the path to Rich's office, doing his best to look purposeful and thus avoid confused cries of Who is that? or, What is he doing here? or perhaps Oh look, it's Jennifer's stalker! Ha! You were right, Jen, he really is pathetic!

  No such shouts came. He didn’t see Jenny, either. Not that he was looking.

  As he approached Richard’s door, his secretary, Helena stood.

  “He’s not in, Mr Chamberlain.”

  Theo stopped short. “Oh. He’s not?”

  “No. I believe he went to see Priyanka Chaudry.”

  “Ah.” Priyanka. He knew her. And her office would be much closer to wherever Jen worked, surely. “Great! Thanks, Helena.”

  “Um… You’re welcome.”

  He retraced his steps back onto the main floor, heading towards Priyanka’s office.

  And then he saw her.

  She stood by a desk in the far corner of the room, half hidden by one of those enormous plants. In fact, there was one in front of Priyanka’s office that would make for a remarkably good non-hiding place. Casually, Theo manoeuvred himself behind it and tried his best to see exactly what was making Jen smirk like that.

  Ah. It was a man.

  A very handsome man, he noted. Very tall. Young. Cocky, clearly, from the way he had his hand on her forearm. He would almost certainly crease the sharp, ice-blue fabric of her shirt sleeve. Not that she’d notice. But really, the man should keep his hands to himself.

  “Why are you lurking outside Pri’s office, Theo? And why do you look vaguely murderous?”

  Shit.

  “Rich!” He cried, stepping out from behind the plant with as much nonchalance as one could step out from a plant. Which was not very much at all, as it turned out.

  “Is everything okay?” Rich asked. “Do you want to come in? I was just having a chat with Priyanka.” Jesus Christ, had his voice always been this loud? It would be a miracle if Jen didn’t spot them.

  Wait. Did Theo want to be spotted? Or not? He couldn’t remember.

  “No, no,” he assured his friend—quietly, just in case. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Just came down to er… To meet you. For lunch.”

  Rich squinted, cocked his head. “Eh? Why are you whispering? And what are you looking at?”

  The office door opened again, and tiny Priyanka Chaudry emerged. She cast them a confused look before bustling off in her sensible shoes.

  Jennifer wasn’t in the corner anymore. But where was she? Had she wandered off into a stationery cupboard with her mysterious, young friend? How old was he, anyway? Jen was young. But women liked older men; that was a known fact.

  “Theo! Come on man, what’s up with you?”

  And then, dear God—

  “Mr Chamberlain?”

  Theo plastered a smile onto his face and turned. And there she stood. The most beautiful woman in the world, along with that great hulk of a man trailing her around. Frankly, Theo rather thought there was such a thing as too tall. Tastelessly tall, even. Anything over 6 foot was simply excessive, in Theo’s opinion.

  “Is everything alright?” Jenny asked, brow furrowed just enough, voice concerned, but not overly so. Professional. So, so professional.

  “Of course!” Theo said brightly. “Just popped down for a bit of lunch.”

  “Oh,” she said. And she blushed. Her skin was dark enough to hide, it but he knew by now that when she ducked her head and twisted her mouth just so, she was blushing.

  “Lunch, eh?” Said the man beside her. “Perhaps we might join you. We were just on our way to lunch ourselves.” And his name popped into Theo’s head: Oliver Hatton. One of the creative team. Smug prick.

  That last part was purely a matter of opinion.

  Jennifer looked up at Oliver sharply. “No, we weren’t. I have work to do.”

  Theo bit down on a grin.

  “Ah,” Oliver said awkwardly. He gave a forced laugh. “That’s our JJ! Always working.”

  Theo’s head nearly exploded. JJ? JJ? What the fuck?

  But then the most wonderful thing happened.

  Jen cleared her throat and muttered, low, acidly polite, but insistent, “Jennifer. It's Jennifer.”

  Oliver’s face fell. Rich's brow raised. Theo's heart sang.

  “Anyway,” she continued. “I must be off. I have a telephone meeting with Ms Taylor-Thomas. Goodbye, Rich. Ollie.” She tried to slide her eyes past his, he could see it—but she failed. Her gaze snagged on his face. “…Theo,” she said finally. And off she went.

  Like a pet dog, Oliver—Ollie, Theo mentally sneered—stared after her. And like a lightening bolt, it hit him: Oliver Hatton was Johnny Bravo. He was fucking sure of it.

  “I have to go,” he said.

  Rich frowned. “What about lunch?”

  But Theo was already striding away. It wouldn’t do to throttle an employee. At least, not where everyone could see.

  “Tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder.

  He didn’t wait to hear Richard’s reply.

  Chapter Fourteen

  For the second time in one day, Jennifer woke up feeling like she was fifteen again—worn out, hung-over, and late for a GCSE exam.

  But she wasn’t hung-over, and exams were thankfully in her past. She was worn-out, but she certainly shouldn’t be; she’d slept quite enough last night.

  Yet here she was, asleep at her desk. Mortifying.

  She blinked away the sleep in her eyes and sat up straight, arching her aching back. Stiff vertebra clicked like computer keys. The lights were low, and the desks around her were empty. She checked her watch; it was a little after 8 p.m.

  Christ. She’d meant to stay late—her phone call with Lilliana had resulted in a mountainous to-do list—but not that late.

  Jennifer was about to pack up her things and leave when she heard it: a giggle. Swiftly followed by an answering chuckle, much deeper and vaguely familiar.

  “Stop it,” someone said; presumably the giggler, since her voice was high and her tone coy.

  “You work too much,” a man responded. “Take a break, sweetheart. Come here…”

  Oh, shit. She knew that voice. That was Rich.

  What on earth?

  Jennifer thought fast. Either she could crawl beneath her desk and hide there in shame until the next morning—no th
ank you—or she could grab her shit and get gone, now.

  I’ll take option two, please.

  Okay. Apparently, the universe felt slightly guilty for all the crap it was dumping on her, because look—a stroke of luck! Her bag was already packed and her computer was locked. Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.

  Slowly, quietly, Jennifer shrugged on her jacket and pushed her chair back, thankful that it rolled on well-maintained wheels. Once she was stood up (and hopefully hidden by the enormous potted plant, in case anyone should happen to look in her direction) she scouted out the office to see exactly where the noises were coming from.

  Ah; Priyanka’s office. The lights were on, but its glass walls were shaded by roman blinds, as always. The door seemed to be slightly ajar, but that was okay. She’d have to take the stairs—the lift would beep—and the door to the stairwell required her to pass the office, but she could sneak. She was great at sneaking. This was fine. It would all be fine.

  Taking care to tread carefully, Jennifer gathered up her bag and crept across the office carpet. God, she thought, her disgust growing as her nerves relaxed slightly. Rich really was a prick. Why couldn’t he use his own bloody office for that sort of thing? Poor Priyanka. Inappropriate relations were occurring in her private space, and she didn’t even know!

  “Oh, shit, Rich,” moaned the woman suddenly, and Jennifer froze. She listened closely; there were several disturbing, moist sounds coming from the office, and a few breathy pants, but it didn’t sound like anyone was moving. It didn’t sound like someone was about to burst out and cry, What are you doing, you pervert? God, can’t people screw in an office in private anymore? Biting her lip, Jennifer forged on.

  “You like that?” Rich murmured. “You like my cock, love? Fuck, you’re beautiful…”

  Jesus Christ. Just her luck--he was a talker. Jennifer took a few more steps, keeping her eyes locked on the door to the stairs, now just a few metres away. She just had to go past the office door really quickly. Doing her best to stay silent, Jennifer bit her lip on a manic giggle that threatened to bubble up.

  Then Rich’s voice, throaty and ragged, said “Oh, shit, yes, Priyanka,” and the laughter died in her throat.

  Priyanka?

  Married Priyanka?

  Oh, Lord.

  More breathy moans and sighs came from the office, and Jennifer slapped her hands—silently, she hoped—over her mouth. That was Priyanka? Priyanka was making those noises? Sweet baby Jesus. Whatever Rich was doing, it must be good, because she had never heard anything remotely like a sigh come out of Priyanka Chaudry’s mouth before.

  Cries continued to emanate from the office, but Jennifer resolutely blocked them out of her mind. She simply had to, or else she’d die on the spot. Abandoning all semblance of stealth, she focused on getting the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

  By the grace of God—or, more likely, because Rich and Priyanka were so very, ah, focused on each other—Jennifer made it out of the office and into the stairwell without being discovered. She ran down the stairs, laughter tearing hysterically from her throat and bouncing off of the bare, concrete walls. She chortled to herself as she pulled out her keycard and opened the door. The cool November air hit her hard, but rather than soothing her weirdly buoyant mood, it just made her laugh harder.

  Pulling her coat close around her, Jennifer headed through the carpark with a smile on her face. God. Life was weird. It was rare, but she was having one of those perfect moments—a moment of vitality, when the fact that she was alive slapped her around the face, and she felt like screaming into the starless city sky. She could skip. Richard Fortescue and Priyanka Chaudry were having some kind of passionate office affair, and tomorrow someone would wake up somewhere and win the lottery, and tonight… Tonight, anything could happen. Wasn’t that the point of living?

  “Jenny.”

  She gasped, embarrassingly. He was right in front of her, stepping out from behind his car—and she should have remembered it and noticed it, but of course, she hadn’t.

  Theo.

  “I was worried about you,” he said. She couldn’t see him too clearly in the poorly-lit carpark, but the set of his shoulders and the way the shadows kissed the smooth planes of his face… She recognised him in the dark. Wasn’t that strange?

  “Were you working all this time?” He asked.

  “Were you waiting for me?”

  “I tried to call you. I was going to come and find you but I thought…”

  She remembered earlier that day, when she’d bumped into him outside Priyanka’s office and foolishly wondered if he was looking for her.

  “We shouldn’t see each other at work,” she said. “If we can help it. We shouldn’t see each other at all, really.”

  He stepped closer, hands in his pockets. “Don’t say that. You haven't seen my contract yet.”

  She could hear the humour in his voice, but the mention of that bloody contract sparked her annoyance.

  “It’s not funny, Theo. My job isn’t a joke.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you? I don’t think you do.” To her horror, she realised her voice was shaking. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “I need this job. I never thought I’d end up in a position like this. God, before Priyanka hired me I had two jobs and I still wasn’t making the money I needed.”

  “Jenny…”

  “I know you think I live in a dump. I do, actually. I do. But who gives a fuck?” She cried. She could hear her voice rising, becoming hysterical, but there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it. “Some things are more important. Do you know what it’s like? To worry about money?”

  Theo looked her in the eye. “No,” he admitted softly. “I don’t.”

  “Well then,” she said. “How could you understand?” And in that moment, she realised: he couldn’t. He really couldn’t.

  But then he said, “Show me.”

  And she made a decision.

  “Okay.”

  ◆◆◆

  Theo made the turn she pointed out and found himself pulling into the carpark of a grand, dimly-lit building. They were just outside the city, and the streets seemed bare and quiet to him. Still, there were a few cars on a section of the tarmac marked ‘staff’, and one or two others scattered about.

  They got out in grim silence, and she led him into the building. The sign over the door read Harper’s: Home From Home. They stepped into a small, closed-off room, the glass door in front of them resolutely shut. Through it, he could see what looked like a large and cozy living room with a vast fish tank across its far wall.

  “What’m, Ms Johnson.” With a start, he noticed the window to their right. Behind it was an office, and an older black woman sat in the little opening, a smile on her wide face.

  “Hey, Glory. You know you can call me Jen.”

  The woman tutted. “Guh lang. You come to see your grandmother?”

  “Yeah. She up?”

  “She is. Not feeling too good, though.” She tapped her head with her palm. “She’s about five years behind, today.”

  Jennifer bit her lip. “Alright. That’s not so bad.”

  “No.” The woman, Glory, smiled at Theo. “This your gentleman friend?” She asked.

  “Something like that,” Jen said shortly.

  “Well, alright then.” Glory pressed a button by her desk and nodded. “You go on through.”

  “Thanks, Glory. See you.”

  “Bye, darlin’.”

  The glass door eased open with a wheezing electronic buzz, and Theo followed Jenny through, giving Glory a nod as they went. The room they entered was indeed a large living area, and groups of elderly residents sat about, chatting and playing dominoes. Many of them called out to Jen as they passed, and she smiled and waved and asked after grandchildren and great-nieces and -nephews. Theo watched the interactions, admiration and anxiety warring in his gut. Everybody knew her here. She must come a lot. That was great for the woman he knew they were a
bout to visit. Maybe not so great for Jen.

  He thought about the conversation he’d had with PC Goring earlier. About the way Theo had pushed for information, and what he’d gotten in return. He’d have to tell her soon.

  But then she led him into a long corridor, and headed for a door labelled 85. She pulled out a key from her pocket, looked up at him, and asked, “You ready?”

  And he thought, Not yet.

  And he said, “Yes.”

  ◆◆◆

  Violet Campbell looked up from her TV screen to find her granddaughter in the doorway of her bedroom.

  “Jenny-darling!” She smiled. “There you are! I was wondering when you’d be coming home.”

  “Hey, Grandma,” Jenny said softly. The girl seemed subdued. Violet tried to rise from the bed, but her back gave the most awful twinge.

  “No, Grandma,” Jenny said. “Don’t get up.” She hurried forward into the room, pressed a kiss to Violet’s cheek.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with my back,” Violet frowned. “It hurt just now, when I tried to sit up.”

  “Don’t worry about that, Grandma. It’s probably just stiff. You must remember to press your button over here, though, if you need anything.”

  “Right,” Violet frowned. “Because a nurse will come.” She remembered that. But why did she have a nurse, again? And how could they afford such an extravagance?

  Then she heard a man clearing his throat, and Jenny straightened and stepped aside. There behind her stood a handsome fellow with a very forbidding expression on his face.

  “Grandma,” Jenny said. “This is Theodore Chamberlain. Theo, this is my grandmother, Mrs Violet Campbell.”

  Ah. A man. Perhaps this was how they’d gotten the nurse. Violet frowned.

  “He looks quite old,” she said. “He’s not your sweetheart, is he?”

  “No, Grandma. He’s my boss.”

  “Good.” Violet nodded. “I’m sure he’s a lovely man, but he is far too old for you. You’re only twenty.” She let her eyes drift shut. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Um…”

  Violet opened one eye to study her too-silent Jenny. What was this?