RRC - My Boss

by Jolie Day

  “Fuck!” Avery exclaimed.

  “That’s professional,” Bethany mumbled in response.

  “Stop poking me already!” Avery growled. “Jesus.”

  “Don’t be such a baby,” Bethany huffed. “It’s just a pin. Haven’t you ever gotten acupuncture; it’s exactly the same.”

  “No, it’s really not.”

  “Whatever. Turn back around.”

  Avery turned and looked herself in the mirror a second time. Except for the pin fastening the front of the dress, making it fit more snugly around her belly, she looked…good. Sexy. She hadn’t noticed the lacy ribbons that stretched from the slit in her dress up to nearly her armpit, or the skin that was revealed in the spaces it left behind. She turned her torso and looked at herself from the side. The dress did wonders with her figure; she’d never felt this…desirable. She wondered if Joel would like it.

  At that thought, Avery flushed. She could see the redness creeping up her neck, almost matching the deep shade of the dress.

  “What’s wrong?” Bethany asked as Avery forced out a breath. “Too tight?”

  “N-no,” Avery replied, shaking her head and displacing a few auburn tendrils from her messy ponytail. “It’s just that I…I’ve never worn something like this before. Something so…” She shrugged, unable to find the right words.

  “Seriously?” Bethany asked, laughter in her voice, though it wasn’t unkind. “This isn’t even the nicest dress I’ve fitted today. You should see what Lila designed for Kara Nichols.” She let out a low whistle. “For a mother of three, she looks like a goddamn supermodel.”

  Avery nodded, looking down as her hands nervously smoothed down the side of her skirt, which clung to her thigh like static. “I’m sure she’s used to things like this by now, huh?” she said.

  “Personally, I’ve only fit her for a half dozen dresses, but Lila has designed countless gowns for the Harper family over the years. And suits.”

  “I wasn’t aware Lila Lord did suits,” Avery commented.

  “Only for the Harpers,” Bethany informed her. “Actually, she might have had a thing for Joel at one point; he always gets the best ones.” She winked at Avery in the mirror and the taller woman forced a laugh, but the smile fell from her face as soon as Bethany ducked back behind her body and she could feel her playing with the ribbons at her back.

  “Are they…I mean, do you know if Joel—Mr. Harper ever…”

  “Probably,” Bethany said. “These laces are nice, aren’t they? Lila thought they’d look better than a zipper; goes better with the whole aesthetic, you know?” She stood and began loosening the ties. “But, yeah, I think they had a little something a while back. I mean, why not? They’re both consenting adults and all that. Besides, he’s hot, don’t you think? I mean, wouldn’t you?” She wiggled her eyebrows in the mirror and Avery turned red as a beet and glared back.

  “No!” she huffed, pulling away.

  “No?” Bethany asked.

  “He’s my boss,” Avery reminded her. “It would be unprofessional.”

  Bethany scoffed. “Listen,” she said. “If my boss looked like your boss, then I’d toss professionalism right out the window and throw my legs in the air.”

  Avery rolled her eyes at the woman and choked out a laugh, but she couldn’t help the voice screaming in the back of her head: AMEN. She ignored it as she moved back to the changing area, slipping out of the red dress and tugging at the longer navy blue one. This one had a halter top and it fit like a dream.

  When Avery made her way back out, Bethany’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor at the sight of her. “Well damn,” she said. “I think we found a winner.”

  *****

  The suit Joel Harper wore was an original, designed and tailored to fit his broad shoulders and narrow hips. The material of his waistcoat stretched tightly across his chest and the deep blue of his shirt was an attractive contrast to the bright color of his eyes. The sleeves of his jacket fit snugly around his arms, though not to constrict his muscles, which rippled slightly as he flexed, enjoying the way the expensive material moved and stretched with him.

  Lila Lord was a miracle worker, he thought. Her hands were masterpieces in themselves. He smirked at the memory of those hands in his, her slender, slightly callus-roughened fingers lacing with his. He’d known Lila for a long time and what they’d had was never…real; not in the way he’d wanted it be. But it was fun. Lord knows he could use a little fun in his life.

  But Lila was married now. Joel, himself, had introduced her to her current husband and they were expecting their first child via surrogate. She was happy and so was he.

  Looking back at the reflection of his face, Joel surveyed the shaven line of his jaw. He’d gone to a barber shop earlier for a touch up. He rarely allowed himself the privilege of being spoiled so—what, with work and his mother….

  At the thought of his mother, he found his attention diverted to the photography hanging on the wall behind him, in his living room. It was all his, taken over the span of his life, with various cameras and at various locations around the world—though the majority was taken right there, in New York City.

  In the center of the photographs of him and his siblings and landscapes was one that pulled all of it together, though it contained just one single person; Joel’s mother, Elizabeth Harper. It was the first photograph he’d ever taken of anybody or anything and he still could remember the way the button felt shifting under the weight of his index finger, how the shutter had clicked, the sound echoing in his ear for a few seconds, and the surprise in his mother’s green eyes as the flash reflected back at him. He remembered giggling as she chased him around, trying to take both the camera and Polaroid back from him. Even wearing a tight, pencil skirt, she’d been able to catch him and lift the five-year-old boy above her head, both of them laughing uproariously.

  She had settled him on her hip and plucked the photograph right out of his hand and held it up as the instant film slowly developed until they could both see her look of surprise, staring back at them. Joel had hid his giggles in Elizabeth’s shoulder as she wrinkled her nose in distaste, but then she’d handed him the photo with a smile and a kiss to his cheek.

  “Keep trying,” she’d whispered in his ear, before placing him on the floor with his new hobby.

  Joel had gone on to take far better photos of his entire family—his mother included—and his hobby had developed into a love of machinery as he’d taken apart nearly every camera he’d ever gotten and then put them all back together on his own. He had a fondness for parts and had always been curious about how cameras could capture images in increasingly startling quality. Moreover, how he could further improve that quality.

  Perhaps that first photograph had led him to where he was right now; part-owner of a majorly successful tech company, specializing in cameras and luxury televisions. His mother was definitely a big part of that, as well, and he kept her as close as she would allow.

  The polaroid, at first glance, might have seemed just as ornamental as any of the other photographs on his wall, but anybody that truly knew him—or Elizabeth—knew that there was a far deeper story. A sadder story.

  Joel squared his shoulders in an attempt not to think about it. He did not have the time to think about it. Not right now. Not ever. He had somewhere to be, work to do, a life to live without dwelling on…that.

  As if on cue, he felt the vibration of a cell phone in his pocket and he reached in, pulling out his phone to see a text from his limousine company, informing him that his car would be there in five minutes or less. Joel took a deep breath as he slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned, once again, to look back at his reflection in the full-length mirror.

  His suit fit perfectly and was completely unruffled, his tie straight and perfectly aligned with the buttons on his shirt. His hair was gelled back and neat, a few tendrils curling at the nape of his neck. His jaw was angled attractively and his g
lasses gave him an heir of intelligence that was not misplaced. He looked good. Better than good. Avery would appreciate it.

  The corners of his lips curled up at the thought of Avery James, his assistant. The young and fiercely intelligent woman who had proven her worth as both his assistant and a potential engineer for Harper Images if she chose to continue with the company in the long-term. He was already prepared to offer her a promotion, but Kara had held him off. As head of HR, his sister was cautious when it came to higher-level hiring. It was she who’d set the six-month training minimum and he who insisted that there was no need for it.

  More often than not, however, it was Kara who was proven correct.

  Still, even after just a month of knowing her, Joel could tell that there was something different about Avery James; something special. And he was determined to find out what that was.

  With that thought on his mind, Joel gave himself one last perusal before turning on his heel and striding right out of the apartment, on his way to pick up his date. He spared one last glance at his mother’s photograph as he flicked off the light and watched the glimmer leave her eyes, like he had so many times before.

  The door shut hard behind him.

  ******

  Her hair was…shiny. And somehow sparkly.

  Avery hadn’t even noticed Edith’s hairdresser putting anything resembling glitter in her hair, but as she turned her head back and forth, she could see it clinging to her hair like it had always been there. Her auburn locks fell, loosely curled, around her shoulders; they resembled cascading waves over a waterfall and, combined with the floor-length gown that Bethany had chosen for her, she looked like a princess.

  And she felt like one, too. More than she’d ever felt like one before, even in childhood. Her mother had played princess with her for hours when she was a little girl, up until her untimely death. Avery could still remember the tea parties that had lasted for hours and their horrible fake British accents as they’d giggled about crumpets and meetings with the king, keeping their pinkies in the air as they sipped from tiny plastic tea cups. Back then, Avery had truly believed that she was a princess.

  She hadn’t felt like that since her mother was around, could never quite grasp the magic of moments like that. Her father had tried, as gruff as he was, to make her happy and to raise her the way any little girl should be raised—in his opinion—but she never really got back to that place.

  Until now.

  Looking in the mirror, at herself dressed in that beautiful designer gown, with her hair twinkling in the light of her apartment and her face painted to frame her face, Avery truly felt like a princess again. She turned to look at herself over her shoulder and admired the line of her back that disappeared under the impossibly soft fabric at her hips. She could see the soft fold at her waist, the freckled curves of her shoulders and the loose bow tied at the nape of her neck, which held up the top part of her dress. Turning back around, she admired the gaping neckline and the lace bridge that spanned across the undersides of her breasts, allowing them to swell and press together, alluringly. The skirt of the dress hugged her hips and thighs just right and the fabric split around her knees, freeing her long legs enough to walk and leaving the rest to follow behind her, like a train.

  Bethany had even set her up with a pair of silver, strappy heels that complemented the silvery sparkles that glittered all over the fabric, changing in the light the way the sparkles in her hair did. The air around her even seemed to twinkle and Avery felt her breath catch in her lungs. She just looked…so damn beautiful. And she felt it, too.

  When there was a knock at her door, she startled and spun away from the mirror, nearly twisting her ankle as her hair fluttered around, resting now over one shoulder. Avery swallowed thickly; she knew exactly who would be at her door right now. Checking her cell phone, she confirmed that it was, indeed, half-past seven. The gala started at eight. Her date was here to pick her up and she found herself wondering what Joel would be wearing tonight. Would he look as magical as she felt tonight?

  Of course he will, that voice in the back of her head chastised. Doesn’t he always?

  Avery shook her head to dispel the thoughts, careful not to muss the carefully crafted hairstyle, as she grabbed the matching clutch that Bethany had lent her and tucked her phone inside as she crossed the studio and reached for the door. Before she opened it, however, she took a moment to breathe and straightened her spine, painting on a confident smile as she tugged on the doorknob.

  The smile almost immediately dropped from her lips as she was met with the hypnotic, icy gaze of Joel Harper as he stood straight, tall, broad, and handsome in her doorway. Avery couldn’t help the way her eyes slowly dragged over his form, from the shiny black designer shoes that encased his rather sizeable feet, to the form-fitting pants that hugged the curves of his impressive thighs and the jacket that squeezed and shifted with his biceps, to the slicked back hair and the glasses perched at the end of his nose, which he casually pushed back with one thick finger. She swallowed thickly, her fingers clenching around the clutch in her hands.

  “Hello,” she greeted, her voice low and partially stuck in her throat.

  “Good evening,” Joel replied. “You look lovely tonight.” His words and the smirk on his lips were genuine, but there was a slightly teasing glint in his eyes. Instead of making her defensive, like she might have expected, though, Avery felt herself become suddenly shy.

  “Thank you,” she said. “So do you. Handsome, I mean.” She cleared her throat, nervously.

  “But not lovely?” Joel teased, good-naturedly. Avery felt heat in her cheeks as she rolled her eyes, relaxing a bit. He chuckled and offered his arm. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Avery replied, curling her fingers in the crook of his elbow as her opposite hand held the clutch against her midsection and she allowed him to guide her out of the apartment, the lock clicking into place behind them as they glided down the hall towards the elevator.

  Avery could feel the flutters in her stomach start up again and, for the first time, she didn’t fight them.

  Chapter Eleven

  The limousine was silent as they made their way to the banquet hall. It wasn’t too far away; less than a mile from the apartment building, but Joel had insisted that they arrive in a limo.

  “For the paparazzi,” he explained. “I rarely allow them to take my picture out in public, but this is a special occasion.” He gave her a dimpled grin and Avery felt her stomach flutter. She’d not been able to get rid of the butterflies since the second she first saw Joel in his perfectly tailored and custom-designed suit. Her fingers clenched around her purse in an attempt to keep from smoothing down the material over her stomach. It wasn’t wrinkled or mussed in any way, but her hands tended to flutter there when she was under a great amount of stress; a nervous habit she’d picked up from her mother as a child. She turned her gaze to look out the window as the city passed them by, in a blur of color and lights.

  Even after living there for two months now, Avery was still taken aback by the fact that she could walk the streets of New York City anytime she wanted, weather-permitting. She walked to work every day, taking in the colors of Autumn, which had started just the week before, and the few leaves that fluttered past her on the way. She took in the scent of Pumpkin Spice everything that the café served and was reminded of the university café at Northwestern. She’d yet to call her father, whose birthday had passed without much notice. She wondered if he missed her or if he was just worried about where she’d gone.

  “Would you like a drink?” Joel’s voice broke through Avery’s thoughts and she turned to blink up at him. He was giving her that smile as he held a few tiny bottles of liquor in one large hand. He offered them to her and Avery hesitated.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Should we be…? I mean, we’re almost there.”

  “Exactly,” Joel chuckled, unscrewing one of the bottles of amber li
quid, skillfully, with one hand. His fingers were deft and sure, making Avery swallow thickly as a decidedly unprofessional thought crossed her mind. She could feel her cheeks flush. “I always take just one before a big event,” Joel was saying. “It’s not much more than a shot.” He tipped his head back, downing the entire bottle in one goal. Avery’s eyes watched his Adam’s apple bob with too much interest, but she was able to divert her eyes before he met them, pretending to look at the selection he was offering.

  Swallowing the rum was harder than she thought, despite the scant amount of liquid. She tried not to cough, lest she stain her dress with the refuse, but she could feel Joel’s eyes on her and her throat tightened in response to his hot gaze. Still, she was able to get it all down and only coughed once or twice as it burned a path down her trachea.

  “Thanks,” she said, handing him the bottle back. Joel took it and tossed the empty ones into a small trash bin attached to the door. “I needed that.”

  “You really shouldn’t be too nervous,” he told her. “This isn’t even one of our more important events this year. I don’t even know why they’re calling it a ‘gala’.” He huffed, giving her a crooked grin and rolling his eyes. “It’s just a formal dinner, really, with some dancing. The next one…that’s when you should be nervous.”

  “Thanks,” Avery replied with an edge of sarcasm to her tone, though she did feel her body relax a bit as she felt her bare shoulder brush against his. Ignoring the heat in her cheeks, she turned her gaze back outside. The limousine had slowed with traffic; she could hear the honks and yelling through the cracked window, pedestrians crossed the street at odd places, looking both ways to avoid being hit by oncoming cabs.

  When the car picked up speed again, she sighed as the wind provided some much-appreciated relief to the flush that was now spreading over her entire body, thanks in part to the rum (and in larger part to Joel’s shoulder still brushing against hers every so often). Avery focused on her breathing and the colors and the lights and…and then suddenly, it all stopped.