Boss

by Scarlett Ross

  “Thank you, but I am fine this morning.”

  Aunt Collen looks me over as if I might blow. “Ainslee, your behavior last night was deplorable. You might want to think about the harm you did yourself and our family. An outburst like that can be detrimental to us all. Thankfully we personally saw little harm, but I can’t believe for one minute, you didn’t smear the image you are going for. The Monroes were horrified as you might expect. I hope you can make amends today, though I doubt your position is still standing.”

  I stew on her statement for one minute long enough to gather my composure. “What was deplorable was the comments made to me. I could go into detail but, honestly, my don’t-give-a-fuck meter is overloaded. If I lose my position at Monroe, I’m still not going away. This is my time. And you all need to know nothing is going to break me. Bully me all you want. The comeback is always greater than the setback from what I hear. So, if you will excuse me, I have to go to work.”

  Sliding on my purse and leaving, I hear more insults swinging to me. Who cares? This is my time to shine. A good offense makes for the best defense, and I hope my words were enough to back those bitches up. I don’t care if I have to check into a hostel. I am getting the hell out of here by next week before my deadline is up, and my stuff finds its way to the curb.

  I’m silent on the way into work despite Mr. Barrett’s attempt to coax me into a conversation. He keeps sending me worried glances in the rearview mirror, but I can’t bring myself to offer half a smile. Entering the office, I am met with a thousand stares and glares. The buzzing of whispers makes me think I’m in a giant beehive as the worker bees drone around me. My posture is ramrod straight, and I don’t even bother to look at them, concentrating solely on making my way to the thirty-eighth floor. The doors ping open, and again the buzzing rings in my ears. The interns smirk at me and begin their ritual of texting each other about my arrival. I would love to know the version of the story floating around, but it won’t be anything other than the worst-possible scenario.

  Reaching my desk, I see an envelope with my name written in bold letters on the front. Shit. So, I finally took it too far and have received my walking papers. Dad crosses my mind. How in the world am I going to explain last night’s breakdown to him? He suffered with dignity and grace. I merely had a hissy fit and a sexual dalliance with the COO. Simon was right in his words about the apple. It did fall pretty damn far from the tree in my case. Picking up the envelope, it feels surprisingly light, so I’m sure it’s merely a note from Regina telling me I have been terminated and have until the end of the day to clear out. The USB drive is securely in my suitcase in a secret compartment, but there is little on there to make much use of from what Simon said.

  Feeling like a big fat failure, I open the envelope. Lying there is a check for five hundred dollars. Severance pay? Seems a little extreme for my short amount of time here, but still I will not look a gift horse in the mouth at this point. Pulling out the check, I am floored. Written under the memo section is “bonus for most donations received from the event last night.” Is this a fucking joke? I had no donations and my basket was thrown on the ground in my fit of rage. Did another hostess pick it up out of pity and collect for me? Doubtful considering the reception I got save for the one hostess who smiled at me. However, a mere smile doesn’t equate generosity of collecting for me when money is up for grabs. Frowning, I start to pick up the phone and call down to Regina but realize she made mention of the fact she was taking a long weekend. Jamison has yet to come in, so I can’t ask him. This leaves my one option and the most daunting of them all. Standing I sneak a quick glimpse at myself in my compact and make my way to Merrick’s office.

  Each step toward his office makes me more anxious. But then I remember his non-reaction to his mother’s words, and anger rises up. He undoubtedly loved every moment of it. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he didn’t have someone put her up to it. His massive doors look more appropriate for a castle than an office, but he seems to think himself the king of Manhattan, so it’s fitting. Raising a hand to knock, I think again and just grab both handles and shove them open. He is sitting behind his desk and looks like he’s expecting this early morning intrusion. Bastard probably had the security officer announce my arrival and has been timing to see how long it took me to approach him.

  “Miss Adams.” He sternly gazes at me and lets his eyes drop ever so slightly down my body. Evan was more than happy to give him a narrative of our activities last night I’m sure. You’re out of luck Monroe, not going to happen again especially with you.

  “What the fuck is this? Pity money? We both know I didn’t manage to collect anything last night, save more indignities to myself. By the way, your mother and father are even viler than I could have imagined. You must love family get-togethers, all of you sitting around and seeing who can be the most revolting.” My mouth has once again gotten the best of me without my brain having time to filter what it is about to say.

  Merrick folds his arms against his massive chest and leans back. “Miss Adams, I agree some things said last night were not appropriate. However, everyone has a right to their opinions. Much like what you just expressed to me about my family. The simple fact of the matter is that your basket was placed on a table after your unexpected departure. An anonymous donor left a check for one hundred thousand dollars in that basket. You won fair and square, despite not actually being present. We honor our commitments here at Monroe Enterprises. It is part of our company’s mission statement to be as honest and transparent as possible. If you wish to decline the bonus, that is your decision. But this is not a grand gesture to make up for any indignity you may have suffered. Emotions have no place in this company. We are all about our business model.”

  “An anonymous donor?”

  “Yes, the check was issued anonymously, and frankly, at that large sum, I couldn’t give a damn where it originated from. I only want what’s best for our charitable cause.”

  Who could have done such a thing? Grayson Gamble comes to mind. But if it was anonymous, he wouldn’t get credit and make me in his debt by extension. I am truly at a loss, but my head is swimming so much that my only coherent thought is how much I need that money to move out of the hellhole.

  “Well I apologize then, Mr. Monroe, and gladly will accept the bonus. Thank you.” Humility flows from some part of me, but in this circumstance, it seems to be the best emotion to express.

  “Apology accepted, Miss Adams. We will overlook your outburst last night but, in the future, know this will be considered intolerable. Further actions such as those last night will mean immediate termination. Do we understand one another?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. We have a meeting at one o’clock in the boardroom with the other officers. You are expected to be there to take notes. Be on time and reserved. That is all.” He turns in his chair, and I’m reminded of Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada. He is definitely the devil but seems to prefer Calvin Klein.

  Backing out of the office as quietly as possible, I turn and find myself nose to nose with Evan. He winks at me and walks into Merrick’s office, shutting the door behind him. This is going to be one long meeting.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  MY OFFICE PHONE rings around noon. Jamison breezed in around ten but hasn’t yet made me do anything except to remind me of the one o’clock meeting. Quietly enjoying my lunch for a change at my desk since I was dismissed from being Evan’s personal waitress, I pick it up.

  “Mr. Wells office, how can I help you?”

  “Ains, what the fuck is going on?” Savannah’s voice floods my ear, and I wince at her tone. The last thing I need right now is one more person chastising me.

  “Savannah?”

  “Yes! I just spoke with Simon, and he told me you’re in trouble. Did you fuck Evan Mancini on the terrace last night during the party? Girl, what the hell are you thinking? I thought this was about revenge plans, but using your body to gain insider information
is crossing a big line. Are you crazy? Do I need to come and get you to hammer some sense into your delusional skull?”

  “Why did Simon call you? He had no right to betray my confidence!”

  “So, it’s true? Ainslee, what are you doing? He said also that you admitted you’ve become infatuated with them? How is this part of your plan? I need an explanation stat.”

  Fuck you, Simon, is all I can think. Okay, yes, in a vulnerable moment after my moment with Evan, yes, I did say that. They are so calculating and antagonizing, but this isn’t a damn bully romance novel. I am not going to fall for their antics anymore. I’ve learned my lesson. Yes, I really think I have.

  “Savannah, some things happened last night that were out of control. I lost my self-control, but I’m still on top of my game. Don’t worry about me. Simon was able to pull some information for me, and I fully intend to use it. Everything is still on track.”

  “Ainslee, it can’t be if you’re having intimate moments with them.”

  “Savannah, it was a one-off. Stop being so hysterical. Forget about Simon, he’s out. He doesn’t have the balls to help me out anymore, and he’s not a reliable source of information. Trust me, okay, I’m in complete control.”

  “Ains.”

  “Look I have to finish my lunch, and then I have a meeting in a few. I will call you later.” I hang up the phone and immediately feel like the world’s biggest bitch. She only has my best intentions at heart, of course, but I’m coming to realize that the only person who truly understands what I am doing is me. Best to keep the details from here on out close to me and not let too many people in. Like I said before, this isn’t something everyone has the stomach for.

  Jamison comes by and perches on my desk. Well, so much for a quiet and peaceful lunch. “Did you get my memo about this weekend by any chance?”

  He loves to pile up memos on my desk, but most are just nearly illegible Post-its with things ranging from travel arrangements to organizing a new office cleaning supply company. I look around in vain to see if I can locate the memo, but he slides his hand over mine. Guiding my fingers to the corner of the desk, he closes his hand over mine to pick up a scrap of paper. Chills run up my arm at his touch, and I recall the comments I made to Savannah just moments ago about being in control. His eyes meet mine, and for the briefest moment, I can feel him pull me toward him. But he abruptly drops my hand and cocks his head down at the note as if to say read it.

  “We’re doing some upgrades this weekend to the IT system. Someone will need to be here in an assistant capacity to help out on each floor. I volunteered you for this floor. Be prepared to stay the majority of the day as the thirty-eighth floor will most likely take the longest and be the last floor to be serviced.”

  I am sure he is expecting me to protest but a brilliant thought forms in my head. It sounds as if I will be here by myself for enough of the day, I might stand a chance of doing some research with my newly gained administrative access. Nodding, I say, “I’m happy to help.”

  Jamison tells me to follow him when he leaves for the meeting. Disappearing into his office, I wolf down my salad in record time and make a quick trip to the restroom to check I don’t have spinach in my teeth. It occurs to me this will be the first time since my initial day here at Monroe Enterprises that I will be with all four men at once. The thought excites and terrifies me at the same time. My wits are tested greatly one on one against each of them but combined together? This will be a true test of fortitude. Sliding on a fresh coat of lipstick and running a brush through my hair, I exit the restroom and stop cold.

  There they all are surrounding my desk. Evan is standing with his hands in his pockets, and the lighting picks up the blue-black of his hair. PJ is rocking back and forth on his heels and nodding. Jamison is leaning back against the desk with his long legs stretched out, ankles crossed. And Merrick is standing the tallest, arms crossed as usual against his chest as he takes in the scene. They are conversing about something, but as I draw nearer, they stop in unison. Each devastatingly handsome face turns to look at me, and it’s like being on a catwalk. My moves become a little saucier, and my hair sways against my back. I am the epitome of mercurial. I can’t help it. They are just too much when they are in a group.

  “Ready Miss Adams?” Jamison grins at me and slides himself down the desk to come to a standing position. PJ smiles at me with those cornflower-blue eyes so full of charm I feel myself melt a bit. Evan readjusts his glasses and his coat while fixating on me with the most intense stare. Merrick merely walks to the elevator leaving the rest of us to trail behind him.

  “After you, Ainslee.” PJ extends his arm, and Evan stands to the side to let me pass. They are totally fucking with my head now. This seems more like we’re off to afternoon tea together. Slowly making my way to the elevator, I stop myself from my saucy hip sway as my ass is in full view. Merrick looks bored as he holds the door open for us. Crowding in, I find myself in the middle of them all, and hot damn. The heady mix of testosterone, cologne, and pheromones is overpowering. I sway to my left, and Evan grabs my arm to steady me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, what is it with elevators?” I blush when I remember I said the same Fifty Shades reference to PJ. Turning my head under the pretense of loosening my muscles, I can see him staring at me. Shit, he remembers too. But the look we exchange makes me realize if it weren’t for the other three being present, I might be ready to have another encounter with a boss. Jamison is on my right and lightly pats my back in a comforting gesture until I sway again, and his hand grazes my ass. He grins and leans in to whisper, “Personally, I always get a little hot in elevators. What about you?” The door pings, and they exit first, leaving me open-mouthed to scurry after.

  We turn toward the boardroom, but I slow my steps. The last time we did this was less than ideal, and after our intense ride, my concentration is more than a little off. How can they not see I’m a bit terrified to re-enter the lion’s den as I came to think of it last time? Yes, their actions just now didn’t seem in any way hostile, but these men seem to pride themselves in keeping me on my toes. The boardroom seems like an overly large escape room with no escape. Panic sets in, and I wonder if I can feign sickness.

  My gait slows to nothing, and I see PJ look back to me with genuine concern. Smiling weakly, I move faster. The rest continue the journey into the room. Merrick, of course, heads to his position at the head of the table. Evan removes his coat, and I can see the strain of his shirt as he goes to swing it on the back of the chair. Last night that chest was pressed to my back, and now here we are, business as usual. As for Jamison, he just plops down in a chair in a very Jamison manner. These men are all in their element, and maybe it’s the power they seem to take on when they enter this room, but it’s intoxicating to see. Who knew polished mahogany and leather could cause such a state? But if I’m honest, it’s not just the meeting causing my giddy schoolgirl mind to race. I feel myself slipping, my confidence waning. My need to avenge washes away like the rain beating on the windows. Where is that outrageously sharp tongue I have? I can’t tell you where it is. My only thought for a sharp tongue right now has nothing to do being combative. Licking my lips as they begin to pull out folders, I’m not enraged at the sight of them. The men of Monroe are getting to me. I start a fight in my mind with myself. Ainslee, get it together, and stop with the sexual thoughts.

  “Miss Adams, if you’re ready?” Merrick says, and I pull out my iPad to take notes. The men begin to drone about new ventures they are all currently working on, and I diligently take notes, but I find myself with wandering eyes. It’s insanity for four men to be so attractive. I mean Bill Gates and Jeff Bezos aren’t exactly the stuff of fantasies, and yet they are two of the most powerful men in the world. But with the men, it’s different. It’s not anything tangible even, just the aura around them makes you feel like you’re being sucked into some type of sexual vortex. If they are this sexy talking about property acquisitions, t
hen what are they like in the bedroom? You could find out, you know. Where the hell did that thought come from?

  Mickey Avalon singing “Stroke Me” comes into my head as if my nether regions now have their own soundtrack. I look around as if I expect all the men to be able to hear the inner dialogue in my head. I go to raise my arm to wipe away the droplets of sweat that have accumulated on my forehead. Breathe, Ainslee, I tell myself and force my thoughts out of my head. But one thing about myself I know is that when something enters my mind, it’s damn near impossible to get it out. If curiosity killed the cat, then I would have used all my nine lives up before the age of ten. Granted, I wanted to know how far away galaxies were back then and now I am wondering about the sexual prowess of my bosses. Harvard did me a fat lot of nothing, apparently, if this is my newest obsession to research.

  It’s like my vagina is talking to me. “It’s me, your long-forgotten friend! You’re here for revenge, but surprise, I’m here for a good time! I look at the men. Evan, where do those tattoos go down to? PJ, do the curtains match the carpet, you blonde stud? Jamison, how do you look when you come; let’s see because you’re always looking like you want to. Merrick, I know time is money, but could you lose a little time in me?” My vagina is conversing with me, and I know now I’m either officially horny as hell or schizophrenic.

  “Miss Adams?” I see them all looking at me like they know exactly what I’m thinking. Shit. Fuck. I realize too late I have been humming and drumming my fingers against my iPad without actually dictating anything other than my craziness.

  “I apologize, I got off track for a minute. Could you repeat the last few items?”

  Merrick scowls at me and repeats the last few items again. Hurriedly I make notations, and the meeting commences without any further incident. Sighing deeply, I decide to hang back under the pretense of gathering up my belongings. The men congregate by the door, and I hear mention of Grayson Gamble.