The Boss(hole)

by Bloom, Penelope

  I knocked on his door and waited.

  He pulled it open, looking sharp, as usual. I thought I could smell his shampoo or soap drifting from his freshly washed body and did my best not to dwell on the image of him in the shower that popped into my head.

  “You’re late.”

  “It’s not even six in the morning.”

  He looked at the coffee in my hand, took it, then had the nerve to pop the top and sniff it. “There’s no sugar in this, right?”

  I glared. “I watched the girl from the moment she poured the cup, just like you asked. She poured coffee, put the lid on, and handed it to me. I then proceeded to guard this cup with my life from any rogue grains of sugar that could’ve found their way into your cup.”

  Mr. White took a sip, then nodded. “Good. I want you to taste this,” he said, offering the cup to me.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because this is how my coffee should taste every time. I want you to be able to know if they burned the beans or undercooked them.”

  I looked at the cup. “This isn’t very sanitary.”

  Mr. White’s eyes blazed, and I couldn’t decide if it was anger flaring up in them or something more dangerous.

  I cleared my throat, then drank after him. It brought me back to my middle school years in fancy prep schools. I’d had my first brush with hormones when a boy at my table asked me if I wanted the last of his soda. I’d been scandalized and excited at the idea of drinking after him, and I thought I’d left that innocence behind. Apparently, Mr. White brought me back to the basics, because when I put my mouth to the cup, every atom in my body lit up.

  I made the mistake of raising my eyes to meet his while I was drinking, and I decided it wasn’t anger there. He looked hungry, and not for a croissant. He wants a bite of your biscuit. Anastasia’s words popped into my head, and I sputtered, spitting the foul-tasting black coffee out.

  I wiped my mouth, wincing at the taste and trying not to laugh at the memory of what Anastasia had said. Then all the humor drained from me when I saw Mr. White’s perfectly white shirt was now an unfortunate white and brown polka dot pattern.

  “It tastes bad,” I whispered. I tried not to make eye contact, but I could feel him glaring straight through my soul.

  Mr. White unbuttoned his shirt and his tie. He had on a thin, sleeveless shirt beneath. He pulled off the dress shirt and handed both the tie and dress shirt to me. “Go wait outside. I’ll have Harvey pick you up and I want you to get these dry cleaned.”

  I couldn’t help ogling his body. I thought I understood he was in good shape from the view I’d had through his dress shirts. But I didn’t expect the eyegasm of smooth, tanned skin, tattoos, and just the right amount of lean, defined muscles. My eyes lingered on his chest, where I could see the darkened shape of his hard nipples pressing into the fabric just above the outline of abs.

  “Or,” he said, voice a low rasp. “You could keep staring at my chest until the stain sets into my shirt and tie.”

  I jumped. “S-sorry.” I started for the door.

  “Miss Adams.”

  I turned, clutching his damp shirt that smelled disturbingly good, even with heavy overtones of spit out coffee now tainting the aroma. “Yes?”

  “It tastes better if you swallow it.”

  Don’t say it, Jules. Don’t you dare say it. “Okay,” I managed.

  As soon as the door was closed, I let out a breath I’d been holding. “That’s what she said,” I whispered.

  “I can hear you,” Mr. White called through the door.

  * * *

  I was exhausted by the time the office party came around. It was seven in the evening, I’d skipped dinner to make sure I finished the calls Mr. White needed me to make, and I was running on fumes. If the human body was sixty percent water, I thought today, mine might be fifty percent water and ten percent caffeine. I’d been chugging coffee like it was medicine, and my head was buzzing even as I was struggling to keep my eyes open.

  So far, all the employees at Coleton Publishing treated me like I was a leper. I wondered if Mr. White had warned them, or if they just knew how quickly he went through personal assistants and didn’t want to get attached. Either way, it was a lonely job, and the best I got as people headed out to get changed or get dinner before the party were stiff goodbyes or little nuggets of small talk.

  I still hadn’t made a single work friend.

  I let my forehead sink down and rested it on my desk, closing my eyes. I thought maybe I could sneak a five-minute nap. I’d just drift off gently and take a quick, dignified cat nap. Once I’d recharged a little, I’d change into the dress Mr. White got me and-

  A loud, ear-splitting snore startled me awake. I wiped at a little puddle of drool on my thigh, then realized I’d fallen asleep hard.

  I also saw Mr. White standing in front of my desk with his arms folded. “You’re not dressed. And you snore.”

  “Somebody woke me up at the asscrack of dawn to make me get a new dress when I have a perfectly good outfit at home.”

  “But you liked the dress, didn’t you?” he asked.

  I sighed. “Yes. But I’m human, Mr. White. I can’t work all day and into the night for you and get up at four in the morning. I’ve got to sleep at some point. And eventually, I might even like to get to resume my social life.”

  He didn’t respond right away. “You’ve got a boyfriend? Is that it?”

  “What? No. I just like to have time to do things other than work. I don’t see how this is sustainable. I’ve been here for a couple days and I’m already running thin.”

  “You’ll adjust.” He hooked his thumb toward the double doors behind him. “The party started. I need you in there.”

  “Where am I supposed to change?”

  “Everybody is already at the party. Just change at your desk.”

  “What if someone comes up the elevator? Or if somebody from the party has to run out for an emergency.”

  “I’ll watch the doors, and the lobby is closed. It’s after hours so nobody is coming up the elevator.”

  “Fine. Whatever. But make sure nobody comes out those doors.”

  Mr. White headed through the doors, and I prepared for the world’s fastest costume change. I didn’t particularly care if the lobby was closed. I knew there was some freak chance that a person would come through the elevator.

  I yanked my skirt down and had my shirt halfway over my head within a second or two of Mr. White closing the door. Then I heard the doors open again.

  “Or you could use my office, if-” he trailed off.

  I had the shirt at my neck and I panicked, trying to yank it off my head but it got stuck around my chin. I lost my balance and backed into my chair, which sent me crashing to my ass with my shirt over my head and my skirt around my ankles.

  I felt someone lifting me to my feet. I got the shirt off my head and saw Mr. White had his head to the side and his eyes averted, but he was standing right next to me while I was in my bra and panties. He had to have seen when he opened the door, too.

  I whacked him on the side of his head.

  Mr. White flinched, but actually grinned at my little slap. “You didn’t mention you were a speed changer on your resume,” he said, still averting his eyes while I yanked the party dress from my desk and slid into it.

  “Usually when you close the door for someone to change, they don’t stand around and contemplate life’s greatest mysteries before they start. You don’t just open the door again,” I hissed.

  Mr. White was actually on the verge of laughing, which was a state I didn’t think I’d ever seen him in. “Fair, but seriously. I thought at most you’d have one button undone. How did you even get your clothes off that fast?”

  “I wanted to do it quickly in case someone came in.”

  “I am sorry,” he said, wiping the amusement from his features. “I had no intention of it happening that way. I was going to say it might be wiser to use my office.”


  “Well, thanks but no thanks. You probably have cameras in there to watch replays of yourself working when you run out of things to do.”

  He turned his back once he’d helped me to my feet. I got my dress back on and smoothed it out over my legs, then adjusted my bra. “Alright,” I said. “I’m decent.”

  He looked me from head to toe, eyes flashing with warmth. He was subtle about it, but I had no doubt he liked what he was looking at. I wasn’t proud of how much that turned me on, either.

  I put my fist on my hip and arched my eyebrow. “Stare much longer and I’m going to start to worry I’ve got something on my face.” Or my chest.

  Mr. White took a step closer and lifted a lock of my hair with his index finger. I felt the hair free itself from the collar of my dress. “It was stuck in there,” he said softly.

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  “Come on,” Mr. White said suddenly. “You’ve got to join the party. It’s company policy.”

  I rolled my eyes and followed him into the room.

  8

  Adrian

  I was crossing the line with Jules. I knew I was, and I still couldn’t quite stop myself from making it worse. Picking out a dress for her to wear was unprofessional in the extreme. Seeing her in her panties was a disaster waiting to happen. But deciding to stick by her side for the entirety of the company party was reckless, because I knew exactly why I wasn’t willing to leave her alone.

  The moment we walked into the office floor, I saw the way my employees looked at her. The women were jealous, and the men were curious. They wondered what she’d look like laid out on their beds, no doubt. I could just imagine if I retreated to my office like I normally would for this sort of thing. The men would be on her in an instant trying to figure out if they could land a date.

  I’d let a woman named Lythe who worked in editing set up the party. I gave her one of the company cards and told her to get whatever she thought was necessary. Apparently, a metric ton of alcohol, party tables, and catered food from a sandwich place, an Indian place, and a pizza place was necessary.

  “Wow,” Jules said. “I can’t believe they set this all up while I was passed out at my desk.”

  The office floor wasn’t unusually large. There was space for the ten desks of my employees with walking space between them. There was also a break room with vending machines, microwaves, and a fridge. It looked like Lythe had stashed some extra alcohol and cups in there. Everybody was gathered near the center of the room at the moment with food in one hand and a drink in the other, but they had stopped talking and stared when I came in with Jules.

  “A few people tried to wake you,” I said. “But you were out like the dead until I came to check on you.”

  “You came to check on me?” she asked.

  Damn it. “I prefer not to have dead bodies in my office. If you expired, I was going to call a coroner.”

  Jules rolled her eyes, smiling. “Right. You almost had me there for a second. I thought maybe you worried if I lived or died. That would’ve been totally out of character.”

  I gritted my teeth, then stepped in front of her, putting my back to the others. They’d begun talking in low voices, but I could still sense their eyes on us.

  “Listen,” I said. “I’m hard on people who work for me. It’s a business philosophy, not my personality.”

  She tilted her head. “I’m not sure I understand, Mr. White. Are you apologizing, or threatening me?”

  I sighed. “I don’t apologize to employees. I am just telling you that I am hard on everyone. Even when they demonstrate an impressive ability to handle the work I give them. And even when they possess qualities I find desirable. In an employee, I mean.”

  Jules’ eyes narrowed. “You find me desirable, Mr. White?”

  “I was trying to make things less uncomfortable. Clearly I’m failing at that.”

  “I’m a big girl,” Jules said. She lifted her eyes to mine, looking painfully sexy. “If I couldn’t handle you, I would speak up. But you’re not as bad as you think you are.”

  “Well,” I said. “We should go speak with the others. It will be strange if we don’t at least make an effort.”

  “We?” Jules asked. “I wasn’t aware you’d be my chaperone for the evening.”

  “You haven’t really met anyone here yet. As your boss, it’s my responsibility to make sure introductions go well.”

  “Hm,” she said. “If you say so.”

  I wasn’t sure I liked the knowing look on her face but decided to ignore it. I took her to the table where the others were, noticing how they all looked like they were trying to decide if they’d get fired for scattering to the far corners of the room to avoid me.

  “Everyone,” I said, “This is Jules. I know you’ve seen her around the office, but I’ve kept her a little too busy to make introductions.”

  The others gingerly set down food or drinks to reach out and shake her hand. I’d been worried the men would slobber all over her, but they looked like scared dogs. I hadn’t considered how it would look with me personally walking her over here. Everybody knew they were being watched. Or they think you’ve claimed the personal assistant for yourself, dumbass.

  I hoped I wasn’t being so obvious.

  Once introductions were through, everybody else scooted a little bit away from us and split into groups, leaving me and Jules mostly alone by the table of drinks.

  “Have something to drink. Eat, too. I know you missed dinner,” I said.

  Jules put a hand on her stomach, looking longingly at the food. “Would it be weird if I had a little bit of everything?”

  “Make yourself comfortable,” I said. “I’m going to finish up something in my office. You know where to find me if you need me.”

  “You’re bailing on your own party?” she asked with a slice of pizza in one hand and a piece of crusty naan bread in the other.

  “I’ll be in the office. I just need to handle a couple things.”

  Jules shook her head. “It’s not healthy to be that focused on work, you know. Everybody is scared of you. Maybe if they saw you relax and let loose a little they wouldn’t be so terrified.”

  “It’s good that they’re scared. I’m their boss. It keeps them from thinking we can be friends. They do their work well and they keep their jobs. It’s simpler this way, and I don’t have to worry about my personal feelings clouding my judgment.”

  “Right,” Jules said. She stared at her pizza and bread like she’d just had an incredible idea. I watched in distant horror as she folded the pizza inside the bread and took a bite, then nodded appreciatively. “It’s a good thing you’re so skilled at being professional with your employees. Imagine if you saw these people in their panties or went dress shopping for them, right?”

  “I owe you an apology,” I said, even though I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. I hadn’t been lying before. I didn’t apologize to employees. If they didn’t like it, they left. That was how it worked. So what the hell was I doing? “I crossed the line, and I won’t let it happen again.”

  “Mr. White just apologized to me?” she put a hand to her chest in a show of mock amazement. Then she smoothed her expression and formed a small, pretty smile before locking those big blue eyes of hers on me. “I appreciate it. But I also think I like you better when you’re crossing lines. It’s an improvement over growling at me about all the calls I need to make for you or how full your inbox is. It makes you a little more human, and that’s not entirely bad.”

  I hadn’t been planning on drinking, but I picked up a cup and filled it with a finger of tequila. With a shrug, I threw the drink back and gave Jules a shrug. “Maybe it would be good for productivity if I appeared to enjoy myself.”

  “See?” she said, raising her naan and pizza abomination for a toast. “Fun can be good.”

  I gave her a reluctant smirk, poured another shot in my cup, then raised it to meet her toast. “To appearing to have fun.” />
  “No,” she said. “To forgetting about appearances.”

  A healthy intake of alcohol helped me begin to do exactly that. As the minutes rolled on and the alcohol took effect, it suddenly didn’t seem as important to always be a hardass in front of my employees. They were having fun once I showed them it was okay to let loose, and there was an infectious quality to Jules. The others were still keeping their distance from us, but Jules was going into painful detail about her favorite book series.

  I was doing my best to listen as she told me about how all the men could turn into dragons and the women were fairy creatures, but she was utterly distracting. Her lips were hypnotic, and her mannerisms were adorable. She had a way of getting unusually close when she talked until her breasts were in danger of pressing against me with every wild waving hand gesture she made.

  “And of course,” she said, speech just beginning to slur slightly from the drinks she’d had. “Every dragon man is extremely well endowed. It’s only natural.”

  “Do these fairy women sleep with the men while they are in dragon form? That seems… logistically difficult.”

  “Leave it to you to worry about logistics,” she said. “No. When they get sexually aroused, they turn into humans. But the fairy girls are so tempting the dragon guys are almost always in human form when the girls are around. But when they’re in human form, they’re kinda ready to go, if you know what I mean. Not a lot gets done in these communities, as you can imagine.”

  “It sounds like the fairy women get done quite a bit.”

  Jules pulled her chin back, raising her eyebrows and then laughing. “Mr. White. Did you just make a joke? Has humor been hiding in there this whole time? If I’d known a little alcohol would get you to loosen up, I would’ve been spiking your coffee from day one.”

  “I try my best to keep work and my personal life separate. It’s simpler that way.”

  “You can be personable without getting personal,” Jules said.

  “In some cases, maybe. But in other cases, I think it might be unwise for me to get too personable. It could send the wrong message.”