Filthy Boss: An Office Romance

by Nicole Elliot

  “Looks like you don't even need that phone call,” he spat out at me. “Monique.” He nodded towards her.

  “Stephen, I should've known it was you.”

  I looked at her. “How did you even know I was here?”

  She smiled at me sweetly. “Oh, honey, the judge’s murder is all over the news. Though I can't imagine why you're here, actually.” She looked pointedly at the detective. “Because you’ve had hardly any interaction with the judge tonight. And there's one more thing that really eludes me about this conversation. Motive.”

  The detective stood up, and folded his arms. “And you know someone who has more motive than her?”

  Monique set her purse down on the table; it looked more like a briefcase. Made me wonder if she had some sort of law experience, and that's why she was here. Or if she was here because she was in charge of me, and I was her problem to solve.

  “Oh, you mean like his wife?”

  “His wife?” I choked out. “I didn't know he had a wife!” I put my head in my hands again.

  Perfect. Now there was someone else who was going to try to jump up and down on me. Someone besides both Monique and the detective. My first night was shaping up to be probably the worst I would ever have. At least I was going to get it over with now.

  “And what would his wife want him dead for?”

  Monique pointed her nose up in the air. “Oh, I don't know… a three million dollar payout? I mean that is an awfully high life insurance policy. Especially since it was only taken out three months ago. And we all know that the judge had more than one side girl.”

  The detective pointed at her. “Ha! You admit that she's a call girl.”

  Monique shook her head, her long hair swaying back and forth. “I admit no such thing.” Then, she moved closer to him, so that they were mere inches apart. “Also, I hate to remind you, Stephen, but I know more about your men out there than you do. I know where they lay their heads at night, and where they drink after work. And I know everything that their wives don't. I could out seventy percent of your precinct if you wanted me to.” She moved away from him, and turned her back on both of us. “Or, you could just allow my client to leave.” She turned around, and looked at him again. “And never bother her again. Obviously, she's distressed by this tragedy, of what happened to a man she just met. There's no reason to upset a young girl any further. Isn’t that right, Detective?”

  I was impressed. I sat back in my chair, feeling slightly relieved.

  “I don't make any promises. Just get the hell out of my interrogation room.”

  I looked at Monique, and she nodded, grabbing her bag, and opening the door for me. My belongings were waiting at the desk in the front, so I quickly grabbed them, and followed her out into the parking lot. An officer held the door open, and Monique winked at him as we left.

  “Holy shit! That was awesome. Are you like a lawyer for the club or something?”

  Monique turned on me, her skin becoming a deep purple. “Don't you ever make a mistake like that again! My girls only ever get one mistake. And then I drop you. Do you understand me?”

  I nodded. “But I really don't know what I did. I had nothing to do with him getting murdered, I promise.”

  “I know. And honestly I'm really sad about the judge. He was one of the good guys. You have just got to be more careful. Someone knocks on the door? You don't answer it. Because you were never there. Somebody breaks in? You always have an escape route. You have to be stealthy; we live in the shadows. It's the only way to stay safe. The only way to keep our secret.”

  I nodded again. She seemed genuinely concerned about my well-being. Or maybe the Madame had told her that if I got in trouble, or even worse, killed, that I was going to be her problem to deal with. And I could tell that Monique had gained a lot of respect in the club. I wasn't trying to lose her any of it on my first day at work.

  The sun was just about to rise, as she opened her car door. I had just pulled out my phone to call a cab.

  “So, where do I take you?” She stood with the door open.

  I shrugged. “You’re going to drive me?”

  “I came to get you, didn’t I?”

  “I guess home? Or do I go back to the club?”

  She shook her head, “No, you don't report back until Thursday night. We only work Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. What's your address?”

  I rattled it off to her and she typed it in her GPS on her phone. We took off in her Mustang seconds later.

  “So, how long have you been there?”

  “At the club? Three years. I used it to pay for law school.”

  So she was a lawyer. Impressive. “Are a lot of girls just there while they go to school?”

  She shook her head. “No, most of us veterans stick around. The Madame’s service is the longest running escort club there is, and most of us can stick around for five or six years before we get too old, and age out. I figure, I've still got at least two more. Plus, I have regulars, so if they want to continue to occupy my time, there's always a bargain to be struck.”

  “Yeah, I guess there is. How did you know the detective?”

  She smiled. “He's been trying to get into the club for years. He just wants to nail one of us, so that way he can come in, and pay for our time. He’s literally dying to get in. But the Madame has strict rules about detectives and cops; they're not allowed in, even if they're dirty. You never know when their moral compass is going to overtake them. We can't be too careful.”

  “Then, why did you say you knew all those guys?”

  “For the most part, it was an over exaggeration. But we have some girls who go off the books, make their own rules. I'm certainly not one of them; it’s too risky. But for the girls who don't stay around very long, they find their own clients, and they don't care who they are. Those are the ones who usually get caught for prostitution though. The Madame takes care of those of us who stick around and play by the rules. However, those girls are chatty, so we know lots of information we shouldn’t.”

  As we pulled into my apartment building's parking lot, I realized that I had had a hellish night, and didn't have a single penny to show for it. I was going to have to go back later that week. I had to pay my rent.

  “So, I guess this whole situation killed my paycheck for this week. Sucks.” I looked out the window and watched the building that would clean out my bank account.

  Monique parked the car. “The men all pay beforehand. When you show up to work on Thursday, there will be a nice little payout for you. The club retains me, so you don’t need to pay me. But from now until then, you don't talk about what you do, and if some cop shows up to your house, you tell them to leave you alone. You understand me?”

  “Yes. I understand.” I sat in silence for another moment.

  “Well then, go, girl. I got other stuff to do besides sit here and watch you.”

  “Of course! Have a good week, Monique.”

  She took off as soon as I shut the door. I looked up at my enormous apartment building, and thought about how Alexis was probably sleeping. I didn't want to wake her up, but at the same time, I had to tell her about my night. She would want to know everything. And if I were in her place, I would've done the same thing. I walked up the exterior steps carefully because there was still dew on the walkways. When I entered our apartment, I saw Alexis sleeping peacefully on the couch. Clearly, she tried to stay up and wait for me.

  As I slowly shut the door, I heard her mumbling, evidently waking up from her sleep. When I turned around, she had sat up, and her eyes grew wide as soon as she saw me in the red dress.

  “Holy shit, girl! What happened? I thought you would be back hours ago. Tell me everything!”

  She put her arms over the side of the couch. As she was talking, her hands moved frantically with her words.

  “Hold on, let me get some coffee first. It's been a really long night.”

  I told her all about the judge, the card, and the Madame. And then I t
old her about how the judge was murdered, and how I had to go to the precinct, and was put under investigation.

  “It was the scariest thing I have ever done, Alexis. I swear to God, I thought they were going to throw me in jail right there. And I had known the guy what? An hour? And then I find out that his wife took out this crazy life insurance policy on him! So, why weren't they questioning her?”

  Alexis shook her head, clutching her own cup of coffee. “That is some crazy shit. I can't believe you actually stayed. As soon as I got in the cab, I wanted to call you, and tell you to come with me, but I just thought you needed to do this on your own. I should've stayed with you. I'm so sorry. It’s totally my fault you went through any of this.”

  I shook my head. “No, it's mine. I decided to stay. None of this has anything to do with you.”

  Alexis finished her coffee, and then set it down on the coffee table. “But you're never going back, so it doesn't matter.”

  I shrugged. “I'm not really sure I get to make that choice. Monique told me I’m supposed to come to work on Thursday.”

  “You're kidding me. You can't go back there! That place is obviously dangerous.”

  “It doesn't really matter. Look, Alexis, I have to tell you something…” I took a deep breath, and folded my legs underneath me. “I need the money. I need to work there. And I get that it's crazy and dangerous, but it's also exciting and incredible. I feel like I'm a totally different girl when I'm there. And I like the way it makes me feel.”

  Alexis smiled. “You act like it makes you a superhero or something.”

  I smiled back. “It kind of does.”

  “What about the money? If you needed money… you could've just told me.”

  “No, I couldn't. You're my best friend, Alexis, but there are some things that friends just can't always share. I'm poor, and it sucks. This is my way out.”

  Alexis put her hand on mine. “Your way out is your college degree. But if this is something you want to do on the side, your secret is safe with me.” She sighed. “Just don't call me from jail anytime soon. I don't think I could handle another night like we just had.”

  “Deal.”

  Chapter Six

  I mostly laid in bed all day, watching reruns of Friends, and eating a ridiculous amount of food. The best treatment for a hangover. Alexis gave me space while she did her homework, and then went out to lunch with a friend. It was nice to have time with my thoughts, but it also set me on edge. I was suddenly counting down the days until I would be back at the club. I was also counting down the minutes until a cop showed up at my door, and ruined my whole world.

  Once I was in hour three of my small pity party, I received a text from a number I didn't recognize.

  Will I see you this week?

  I typed back, Who is this?

  It's Shane from the library. I thought we could hook up again. He even put a winky face. It was cute, but it wasn't what I wanted anymore. I now had higher aspirations, but I had to let him down gently.

  Sorry, I have midterms. It was true, I did have midterms, and I really needed to study, but my hangover wasn't getting the books into my head through osmosis. Not that I really expected that to work, anyway.

  Sucks. I was hoping we could spend more time at the library together.

  Geez. He wasn’t giving up easily. I'm sorry it's just not going to work out for me. I have other things to focus on.

  Like school? Or like a new job?

  How the hell did he know? No one was supposed to know. That was the rules. There was no way he was there last night, but did he know someone who was? I didn't type anything back. I just sat on my bed with my knees curled up under my chin. I certainly wasn't close with my parents. My mom was a deadbeat, and my dad was remarried, but if he had found out that I was an escort, he would certainly disown me. I had a younger brother to consider, too. He looked up to me. Maybe I should end this before it even begins. I pulled out Monique's business card, and started to type her number, when one another text came through from Shane.

  Your secret is safe with me. Just be careful.

  I wasn't going to type back because I didn't want to confirm or deny what I was doing with my free time, but it was interesting to me that he was warning me, not trying to blackmail me. Normally, he was such a pompous ass that I would've totally expected him to try to out me as fast as he could. But, instead, this kinder side of him had taken me by surprise. And, it had certainly put me into an overwhelming spiral. One text had made me rethink everything. What would another week do?

  It didn't take long for me to find out.

  Chapter Seven

  I studied all day Monday, to catch up on my readings from the weekend, and by Tuesday, I was ready to take on the world and my midterms. But, as I put on my sweatpants and a hoodie to catch my 8 AM, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I didn’t look right somehow; I didn’t look like myself anymore. I mean I looked like me, but not how I could look. The club had showed me that. Things could be different for me.

  I wanted to be in the corset and ruffled panties with a pair of high heels and deep red lipstick. It made me feel confident and beautiful. But, when I walked into my class in my sweatpants, I just felt like every other girl that was taking the test. Though looking at some of their hair, I could see I fared better than others, and one girl actually look like she pulled some out. I felt sorry for her. I was still definitely concerned about my grades, but considering I was waiting for cops show up at any moment, I had bigger fish to fry. But I kept my head down, and did my work the rest of the week, soaring through my midterms and feeling good about myself by the time Thursday rolled around. I had a final Friday morning, but it was an essay, and I decided to turn it in early, in case I was occupied for the entire night once again. I prayed that this time it wouldn't be with a murder.

  I had been watching the news all week; his wife had definitely been behind it. She was splashed across every news headline. They claimed that she knew about his multiple mistresses, and how he never paid any attention to her anymore. Apparently, they'd been living in separate homes for over a year. I just felt bad for the children; they were all adults, but having their names smeared in the tabloids wasn't fair to them. Their mother had gone off her rocker, and honestly, to me, it had seemed like their father was just a lonely old man. The kids didn't seem like people that deserved this kind of attention.

  On Thursday afternoon, I watched them parade the wife around in handcuffs in front of the precinct. I heard Alexis come in, as I sat on the couch, glued to the TV. But I tore myself away to focus on her. She had been a bit more stressed out than I was about midterms. It was surprising because her grades were usually really good. When she got home, I understood why she was so worried.

  She flopped down on the couch next to me, looking completely exhausted. She put her hand over her eyes, and shook her head in frustration. “What's going on with you? I mean midterms weren’t really that bad.” Honestly, they hadn't been as difficult as I was expecting.

  She pulled her hand away from her face. “My dad is coming to visit. He thinks that I don't focus enough on school, and he wants to make sure that I'm not partying all the time.”

  “Oh.” Alexis's relationship with her father was a bit strained. When her mother took her on shopping trips in all the famous cities in the world, her dad paid for it. But he never came along, always too wrapped up in the business world to take time to see his own daughter. And any time he did come, it was just to tell Alexis that she wasn't doing a good enough job. It always riled me up, though I never said anything to her about it.

  “I don't understand why he doesn't think I'm doing a good enough job. I mean, I made the Dean's List last semester. Just because I am hanging out with some guys, and going to some nightclubs doesn't mean I can't keep my head on straight. Right?”

  I nodded. “Of course you're right. Your grades are fine, I’m sure. When was the last time you saw him?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe Chris
tmas? I don't really remember. Oh God, that's terrible too.”

  “What's terrible?”

  “That I can't remember the last time I saw him. Like, I think he was there for Christmas Eve, but my mom had a huge party, so I don't even remember if I saw him. Oh, Calla, what do I do?”

  I looked around our apartment, and I knew exactly what we needed to do. “The first thing that we’re going to do is hide all the booze.” I pointed to the top of our cabinets, where we had at least ten bottles of liquor, and a few other bottles of wine that had been given to us as gifts.

  She made a face. “Yeah, I guess that would be a good idea. And, then, I'm also going to have to hide my lingerie that’s hung in the back of my closet in the trunk.” The trunk. It was where we hid everything we were embarrassed about when someone important was coming over. Sex toys, condoms, porn, and any lingerie that we had. The trunk was infamous. We never actually told guys about it, but somehow they already knew. I think it was just that type of talk that happened in the gym when guys were showering together or doing something else equally manly. Not that a bunch of straight guys in the shower was that manly.

  “I will vacuum and dust before work tonight. I'm sure it'll be fine. How long is he staying?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I mean he’ll probably just come for dinner tonight, and then stay for his meeting in the morning. I doubt he’ll stay any longer than that. It would definitely fill his quota for family time for the year. Wait. Did you just say that you have to work tonight? But it's Thursday.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I'm on tonight, tomorrow, and Saturday. Though I'm not really sure how it works. If I get a date tonight, then would I see someone else tomorrow? It seems kind of weird to me.”

  She shook her head. “It's all weird to me.”

  She decided not to press any further, and stood up, moving over to the kitchen where she grabbed a stool so she could start to pretend to reach the bottles. After she had missed three times, I offered to trade places with her. I could tell she wanted to do it on her own, but short girl problems made her realize she needed my help.