The Boss

by Abigail Barnette

  I’d left my loose, comfy sweater on the counter in Neil’s bathroom. It had kind of been my escape plan, if I felt the need to get away gracefully. I’d thought it had worked, but then I heard a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” I called, and quickly touched up my lip gloss in the mirror, so he’d think that’s what had taken me so long.

  “I am so sorry to spring that question about Christmas on you,” Neil said as he stepped up behind me. “Valerie asked me last week. I was meaning to bring it up, but I couldn’t think of a way to do it without frightening you off.”

  “It’s okay. For all you know, I don’t celebrate Christmas. I might be in a Satanic cult.”

  “You could come along,” he suggested. “Stay a week at my country house. We could celebrate the new year in Paris.”

  My head spun at the thought. I had only been to Paris once, and that had been on business for the magazine. I hadn’t had the chance to really enjoy the whole experience. I was dying to go back.

  But Christmas with a romantic partner? That was a bit heavy, considering we’d just started seeing each other in October.

  I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I turned and reached up to put my arms around his neck. “Thank you. That’s very sweet. But I’ll be spending the holiday with my family back in Michigan.”

  He scrunched his face up in embarrassment. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry, that was stupid of me.”

  “Nah.” I shook my head and rose on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek before I turned back to the mirror. “It’s easy to forget that we don’t actually live in our little fortress of solitude, isn’t it?”

  “Would that we could.” He stepped closer, trapping me between his body and the edge of the counter. “After the holidays, then. Let me take you away somewhere.”

  I tilted my head to the side as he bent to nuzzle my neck. The feeling of his lips brushing my skin, the smoothness of his shaved face, pulled a sigh from deep in my chest. “Is it that easy? You just decide we’ll run away to somewhere exciting, and we go?”

  “Do you have a passport?” he murmured against my neck.

  “Mmhm.” God, the things he could do to me with those lips, that voice. He could have proposed a trip to Siberia in January, and I would have agreed.

  “Then it’s that simple. If you wanted to go.”

  My stomach turned over with dread. It all sounded fine and romantic now, but what would happen after I told him about Jake and Porteras? I had to tell him, even if this wasn’t the most convenient time. “Listen... there’s something I have to–“

  “Sophie?”

  I frowned at the sound of Emma’s voice. I heard her knock on the bedroom door, and Neil guiltily stepped back.

  “In here,” I called back cheerfully. Ugh, I really hope she didn’t think we’d been getting up to something.

  I hurried out, into Neil’s bedroom, as she opened the door cautiously. “Your phone was ringing. They called eight times in a row, so I thought it must have been an emergency.”

  “You didn’t think it was an emergency the fourth time?” Neil teased her, and I shot him a look. I didn’t want him to chastise Emma, even in jest, for anything having to do with me. Not when we were at an uneasy peace about our weird situation.

  “Who the hell would call me eight times in a row?”

  The screen of my phone lit up like a light bulb over my head, and the dreaded ringtone started playing. “Imperial March” from The Empire Strikes Back. I’d changed it in a fit of pique on the first day Neil’s company had taken over Porteras.

  “Sophie, you’re white as a sheet,” Neil said in alarm. I swayed on my feet and he steered me to the sofa.

  “It’s Gabriella,” I said, feeling legitimately dizzy. I’d always heard the term “triggered” applied to stuff that reminded people of horrible things in their past. I didn’t think there was a single thing in my life that had been so psychologically scarring that I would have an anxiety attack to be reminded of it. But Gabriella’s number was on the screen, and she was waiting for me to take her call.

  “Emma, can you excuse us?” Neil asked softly. Emma left and closed the door behind her, and he sat beside me on the couch while I stared at the phone in my palm. It went to voicemail, and within seconds, the ringtone sounded again.

  Neil nudged my knee with his. “It might be important.”

  “It might not. She could be calling ten times in a row because she can’t remember the phone number for her dog’s acupuncturist.” I tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob. I dropped my head to my unoccupied hand, mortified. I was crying in front of Neil. Jesus Christ, I was crying in front of him.

  “Sophie...” he sounded as alarmed as I felt. His arms went around my shoulders awkwardly. “I didn’t realize you were so...”

  “Cowed by my old boss?” I laughed sadly and wiped my eyes, pulling out of his embrace. “Hey, guess what, I have been the submissive in a relationship before. I just got paid for it.”

  That depressed me so much, I cried harder. Neil took my phone from my hands, swore at it, and muted the ringer.

  “What’s going on?” he asked gently. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  I felt so horrible. He’d praised my honesty over lunch. To his daughter. Whose trust he was trying to earn back. “Look, there’s something I have to tell you, and when I do, I’m afraid you won’t like me very much.”

  He looked slightly alarmed. “Sophie, I can’t think of anything that would make me not like you. But if it’s really that bad, perhaps you’d better just say whatever it is, so we can get the fight out of the way now.”

  “You’re scheduling our fights?” I couldn’t help my tearful burble of laughter. “Okay, just... remember that I love you, okay?”

  The phone was ringing again. I reached for it, silenced it, and when I set it aside, he took my hands. I’d never seen him look so cautious, like he was braced for something really horrible, but he didn’t want to believe it would be as bad as he anticipated. Then I realized I probably looked just the same.

  “Remember Jake Kirchner?” I looked into Neil’s eyes for some kind of acknowledgement. His mouth parted, and a vertical line appeared between his eyebrows. He didn’t remember, and he was going to try a guess. I rolled my eyes. “The editor who resigned this week?”

  “Yes, oh. The insufferable one who always wedged Truman Capote references into as many conversations as possible.” He shook his head in amusement then froze. “You told Rudy to keep an eye on him. I assume this phone call has something to do with his resignation?”

  “Jake left Porteras because he’s going to work with Gabriella on a project.” I took a deep breath. I figured I might as well get it all out. “She’s starting up her own magazine. That’s where your advertisers are going. She’s going to crib Porteras’s subscribers and you’re going to have to fold. She’s got someone who can feed her the subscription list, but I swear to God, Neil, it’s not me.”

  “Well, I didn’t expect that.” Neil pinched the bridge of his nose. “How long have you known about all this?”

  “I had a vague idea something was going on while you were in London taking care of your mom,” I admitted. “That’s why I told Rudy to keep an eye on Jake. And I wanted to tell you about the subscription list, but you looked so tired and things were going so well with us... I didn’t want to stress you out any more.”

  He looked hurt. I wasn’t prepared for that.

  “Jake is trying to get me a job with Gabriella’s new organization. He told me earlier this week and I hadn’t made up my mind, so... I felt like I couldn’t tell you.” I’d picked my job over our relationship. This kind of thing probably happened all the time with people who dated coworkers, right?

  Except... Neil wasn’t just a coworker. He was my boss.

  “Oh shit,” I whispered. “I just told my boss that I was conspiring with a competing publication.”

  He didn’t look at me. He pulled his hands away from mine. Very
quietly, like he was fighting for control, he said, “Sophie. You’re fired.”

  I considered it a personal victory that I didn’t start crying again. My biggest worry was that if I cried, Neil wouldn’t actually fire me, and that would make me feel all manipulative and shitty. I already felt manipulative and shitty enough.

  “Answer your phone. We’ll talk about this, but I need a moment to myself.” He got up and left the room, and I wondered if I was supposed to run after him.

  No. He needed a moment, I would give him one. And I would see what the hell Gabriella wanted.

  I took a deep breath. The phone was ringing again. I answered it.

  “I don’t remember it ever taking twelve calls to get in touch with the Sophie I knew.” Gabriella spoke slowly, dragging each word out like honey dripping from a bottle. “I hope this isn’t a indication of what I can expect in the future.”

  “Sorry, I wasn’t near my phone.” Why was I apologizing? I didn’t work for her anymore. I didn’t have to answer the damn phone if I didn’t feel like it. Given my current state of unemployment, I wasn’t going to mention that part.

  “The details don’t concern me. I need you to meet me for brunch tomorrow afternoon. One o’clock. My assistant will text you the restaurant.”

  And then she hung up. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I’d thought she might not treat me like her employee, since I wasn’t anymore. I guess that faith was woefully misplaced.

  I found Neil in the living room. A few weeks ago, he’d replaced the white couches Elizabeth had chosen with a black leather sofa and matching armchairs with deep seats that were perfect for curling up in, but which probably infuriated his daughter. Neil was on the couch, slouched in the corner of it, one foot up on the cushion, his wrist braced on his bent knee as he stared at the flames in the fireplace.

  “Hey,” I said from the door.

  He looked up. “That was fast.”

  “She just wanted to ask me to lunch tomorrow.” I shrugged. Then, without thinking, I blurted, “I’ll probably go home tonight. You know, be well- rested.”

  He gazed silently at me for a long time. I felt like I was on trial. I suppose I did that to myself, so I endured it.

  Finally, he said, “Please keep in mind as we have this conversation that I do still love you, and I am in no way suggesting we end our relationship. I would rather cut off my own thumb than break up with you.”

  “So, fired from the magazine, not fired as your girlfriend. Got it.” I breathed a long, shaky sigh of relief.

  That struck me as odd. I wasn’t as bothered about losing my job as I would have been by losing Neil? Where the fuck were my priorities?

  “But,” he began, and he let that “but” hang between us a moment. “You didn’t tell me you had a potential job offer at a competing company. And you knew the situation was serious. I can’t help but feel a bit betrayed.”

  “It wasn’t personal,” I said quickly. “Please, don’t feel like I was thinking I would pull something behind your back.”

  He nodded. “I don’t think that. I think that you considered your career options, and you considered how this might affect our relationship, and you chose your career.”

  “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?” I thought that was what I was supposed to do. Not give up career opportunities for a guy, not let love get in the way of business... It’s how I’d ordered my priorities. “I love you, Neil, but I didn’t want to throw away an opportunity for myself because I was dating you.”

  “You didn’t have to throw away the opportunity. But you could have at least had the decency to give me some clue, some warning.” He got up from the couch and went to the door, shutting it firmly. I had the same sense that he did, that this conversation might get... loud.

  “I did give you warning,” I reminded him. “I told you the way Porteras was running, you were going to have trouble. And we weren’t supposed to talk about business, remember?”

  “That is such bullshit, Sophie. You offered conjecture on the future of the magazine when you knew there was a greater threat that actually existed. And the only reason you didn’t tell me was because you apparently didn’t trust me to handle the problem in a way that wouldn’t cause negative consequences for you. I have been a far better boss than Gabriella, and your loyalty still lies with her.”

  So, this was a professional beef? I didn’t know how to get around that one. “I told Rudy. I followed the chain of command at Porteras for this kind of thing. I wouldn’t have done anything different if I’d still been working under Gabriella.”

  “I think,” he began, weighing each word carefully before he said them, “that you’re right when you say you were submissive to Gabriella. In a purely non-sexual, and a completely unhealthy way. What job has she offered you?”

  Oh, this wasn’t going to be fun to admit. “She hasn’t offered me any job, yet. Jake thought she might want me to come back as her assistant.”

  He nodded slowly. “So, you risked your job at Porteras and your relationship with me to be an assistant to a demanding, borderline abusive boss who calls you until you cry? When you’re already a beauty editor with my publication?”

  “Assistant beauty editor,” I reminded him quietly.

  “Then maybe it is better that you don’t work for me, after all.”

  “You’re right. That was a sad truth we were going to have to face eventually, anyway. I can’t work with you and look out for myself. I’m always going to be in a position where I can spy for you, so I’m always going to be wondering if I should use what I know for me, or for you.”

  “Spy for me?” he was audibly disgusted. “I have asked you to do no such thing!”

  “You’re asking me to right now!” How couldn’t he see that? “You want me to be your girlfriend some of the time, your employee the rest of the time.”

  “You’re asking me the same thing!” His gaze shifted to the door, and he lowered his voice. “You don’t want me to treat you differently than any other employee, but when I don’t listen to your doomsday predictions for the magazine, you’re hurt and offended.”

  I was hurt and offended now. Not because he wasn’t right. He was. We were clearly two people who were not equipped to navigate the oceans of ethical problems we had made for ourselves.

  “I think our situations are a little different here. I’m making the choice to fight for my forty-thousand a year job, you might take a hit on a few of the millions sitting in your bank account.”

  “Billions,” he was infuriatingly quick to correct. “And I regret to inform you that forty-thousand is far less than a few million. I still have more to lose. Besides, do you really believe that you would be in danger of homelessness or starvation if you lost your job?”

  “Yes, Neil, that’s what people do! If they don’t have as much as you do, people start to care about losing a paltry sum like forty-thousand dollars!” I didn’t care if Emma overheard, or Sue in the kitchen. “And if they lose their jobs, they sometimes lose their apartments or their friends when they can’t repay rent money.”

  He pushed his hand through his hair. I had never seen him this angry, even when we’d argued in the kitchen that morning he’d cut his hand. “And you could prevent all of that from happening with a phone call. If things were really bad, if you were going to be thrown onto the street, you could come to me! But you don’t want to admit it, because you know that if you asked me for anything, if you asked me for a million dollars right this instant, I would give it to you. I would do that because I love you, and that terrifies you because you don’t want to love me!”

  I felt like someone had jammed their shoulder directly into my sternum. I thought I might have trouble breathing, but luckily, the pain was completely emotional. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You do it with everyone in your life. Do you really think Holli will kick you into the street? No, of course you don’t really think that, but the thought makes it easier to hold her a
t arm’s length rather than trust that she loves you and would never treat you that way. When people care about you, you get scared. It’s why you’ve never had a serious relationship before. And you’re doing it to me now.” He looked so... wounded.

  He swallowed, and his voice sounded painfully dry when he spoke again. “You knew I would be furious with you over something like this.”

  “You are furious,” I pointed out. My vision got all wavy. No. I was not, under any circumstances, going to start crying.

  Why? Because then he’ll see you’re vulnerable? And he’ll know he’s someone worth crying over?

  Oh god. He was right. He was completely right.

  “Yes. I’m incredibly angry with you right now. But I’m not stupid, Sophie, and neither are you. You knew you should have told me what was happening at Porteras, but you were too afraid to admit that you might care about me more than you care about your job!” He paused, clearly frustrated. “I love you. If you had come to me and told me this was going on, I wouldn’t have prevented you from leaving the company to work for Gabriella again. I wouldn’t have liked it, but I wouldn’t have stopped you. I trust you to do what’s right for you. You can trust me to do what’s right for you, too.”

  That made the tears start flowing. Damnit.

  He came over and took me in his arms, and I didn’t resist him. He held me and let me cry all over his shirt that had probably cost more than my rent. He kissed the top of my head. “I don’t want you to go to home tonight.”

  “I don’t want to go home, either.” I buried my face against his chest and gratefully accepted the tightening of his arm around me. “I hate fighting with you.”

  “We’ll get past this. It will still be a sore spot for me, for a while, but we will get past it. Just promise me that you won’t let Gabriella suck you in again. You deserve better than the way she treated you.” He paused. “Make sure you get anything she offers in writing. Benefits, salary, bonuses - “

  “Neil?” I said gently, looking up. “I’m sorry. It’s very difficult for me not to - “ “Meddle?” I laughed through my tears. He sighed. “I was going to say help you avoid major mistakes.” “I don’t want to avoid major mistakes. This is my life. I only have one chance to live it, and I’d like to be the one in the driver’s seat. I love you. But I don’t want you to live my life for me.”