by Nicky Fox
I cross my arms in a huff. “How do you know what I make here?”
“I’ve been here a lot longer than you have, sweetheart.”
“First, if this is for real and you’re not just jerking my chain for one last hurrah, then there will have to be some guidelines.” I’m fuming.
“Guidelines for me? Uh, no, honey. I might not call myself your boss, but I will be. I don’t need to follow shit.”
I ignore his comment and keep going. “First, you will not call me, sweetheart, honey, sugar, puddin’ pop, or anything resembling food, fruit, candy, or dessert.”
“Puddin’ pop?” He laughs.
“Second, I’ll need my own office away from you, to do my work properly.” I wait for him to say something. When he doesn’t, I move on. “Third . . . I don’t know. I’ll make this up as we go along. I’ll be your equal as a human being. I will not tolerate you talking down to me. Understand?” I talk a big game, but on the inside I’m somewhat excited about this turn of events. “How many people will be at your firm?”
He points to himself and then me. “Just you and me. I’m starting off slowly. We’ll see how it goes from there. Eventually, I see us branching out and hiring more people, which is where you come in.”
Hell, I don’t know if this will work. I have nothing to lose though. It’s a job offer, I can’t really say no. This jackass better not be wasting my time or I’ll kick him in the balls.
“Okay.” I hold out my hand to seal the deal. He takes my small hand in his and gives it a firm tug.
“Nice doing business with you, Miss Lauder.” He has that smug grin on his face. I always want to slap it off. Before he leaves my office, I have one last question for him.
“Mr. Ryder, will I have that offer in writing?”
“If you write it up, sure.” Dylan strolls out of my office without a care in the world. This morning I was cursing his name. Now, I’ll be working exclusively for him. This is seriously an alternate universe I live in.
3
Looking up at the building of the address Dylan gave me, it looks like housing. I check the address I wrote down again and it’s correct. He better not be doing all this as some ploy to get me in his apartment. Maybe I’m just meeting him here so he can take me to the new office? We could grab coffee on the way. I skipped my coffee this morning. I was so nervous about this whole scenario. There were butterflies in my stomach and I didn’t think drinking coffee was a smart idea. I don’t have a car here in Chicago so I mostly walk everywhere or take the L. Occasionally, I get an Uber, like today. With all my office supplies I wouldn’t have been able to walk. Luckily, this address is not too far from my studio so I can walk here from now on and save myself the money. It’s a much nicer area than Lake View.
Making my way through the lobby, I ask the doorman if I can leave my stuff with him. I hit the elevators and punch the button for the sixth floor. As I ride up I think about my conversation with Cindy last night. She thought it was great Dylan offered me a job. Then I asked her if she’d been present the last two years in our office. She’s all for this new position. I know she doesn’t say it, but she likes Dylan. Cindy thinks under that rough exterior he’s actually a good guy. She’s crazy. I think she just tries to see the good in people. She’s really the good person. Cindy hasn’t found a position yet, but she said she’s okay and for me not to worry. See what I mean about good? Cindy’s the best. I can’t imagine how difficult this change will be for her. I just hope she can find something quick.
The doors open and I go to number 601. There are only three doors on this floor, so this space should be large. This is promising. I straighten my pencil skirt, adjust my bag, blow my bangs out of my face and knock lightly on the door. There’s no answer. I knock more forcefully.
There’s shuffling on the other side and the door unlocks. I’m stunned to see a woman half-dressed answer the door. I glance down at the address again. It’s correct.
“Sorry, I must have the wrong address. I’m looking for Dylan Ryder.”
She yawns and gathers the too big dress shirt wrapped around her. The woman’s long dark brown hair is hanging over one shoulder. Her legs are bare and I’m sure she’s just wearing panties under that shirt, at least I hope she is. She waves me in. I look around the door quizzically. A large hand grabs the top of the door and moves it open wider. Dylan’s face comes into view, and that’s when I notice he’s not wearing anything. He’s covered with a sheet around his waist and nothing else. I give him daggers and turn on my heel to walk away. I knew it. I fucking knew it. He played me.
“Hold up, Andy, just a sec.”
I make it to the elevators and jam down on the button multiple times to release some anger. The nerve of him rubbing whatever that was in my face. I’m the stupidest woman alive to have fallen for his job offer. He’s lucky he still has his balls right now. Desperation, that’s what I’m blaming this on. I had a weak moment and he offered me an out and I took it. Now, I just need to organize and prioritize, make some lists. I’ll be on the up and up in no time. The douche nozzle makes his way to me, almost tripping over his sheet a few times. “I slept in. I forgot to set my alarm last night. I know this makes a bad impression, but I have everything set up and waiting for you. I just need . . .”
“Some pants,” I deadpan, not giving one iota what the hell he did last night. The elevator dings and the doors slide open. I move inside and he follows me. Wow, the jerk really doesn’t want to keep his balls. Dylan’s basically naked in the elevator with me. I look up at the floor numbers and try to keep my eyes from wandering. He looks really hot in a sheet. Even though he’s a dick. I wonder what he’d look like in a towel?
“Andy, I know this looks bad, but I swear it’s all professional. I just overslept.” Yeah, right.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I give him an encouraging smile. He looks a little terrified by this, which he should. “Why are you sleeping at the office, Dylan?” I say in my sweetest voice. This should be a very easy question for him to answer. It better not be that he was breaking in his desk.
He squints his eyes, as if he’s about to get slapped in the face. Which, I may oblige him. “It’s my apartment.” Ding. The elevator doors open. I huff and walk out toward the lobby. “But it’s completely legit, Andy. I swear. You’re annoying, but I wouldn’t lie to you. I just need to get dressed and we can put this behind us.”
I turn around to tell him off, when I see some type of fluid on his beard that looks like . . . “Oh, my God. Is that cum on your beard?” I gasp, pointing at it. Disgusting.
“What?” His tongue comes out and licks around the spot. “No, it’s whipped cream.”
“Ugh! Funny how you had to taste it first to make sure.” What the hell was he doing with whipped cream? I don’t even want to know.
He sighs. “I don’t go down on one-night stands. Anyway, I’m sorry how this played out this morning. I’ll get what’s her name on her way, put some clothes on, and we can start over. What do you say?”
I turn to leave and escape this big fiasco. I mean, who does he think he is? This is no professional atmosphere. He was probably thrusting Miss Sunday Night in my face to show he can get a girl to spread her legs for him. Despicable!
“Please, Andy. Please. I really need you.” Damn. He actually sounds sincere.
That please literally kills me. He’s never uttered that word to me, even when he was trying to get two weeks off at Christmas last year. I can check out his “office” and see if everything is in order, and then make my decision. I turn around and face him. He looks ridiculous standing in the middle of the lobby with just a sheet hung around his waist. I’m sure passersby would think this is some lovers’ spat.
I stare at his chest like a creeper. He’s covered in tattoos. There are too many to concentrate on just one. Flanking his chest I see swallows in bright colors. There’s a heart, a moth, a few skulls and stars, a wolf, a bear, coy fish, a lion, some arrows, and an owl just to name a few.
Dylan is gorgeous. He’s still breathing heavily from chasing me down here. My eyes travel down to where he clasps the sheet on his hip. I have to look at his crotch. I’m a woman and I’m curious. Since the sheet is white, I can see through it a little. There is definitely an outline of a large package down there. His hand comes into view and motions for me to look up with two fingers. I blush and jolt my gaze back up to his face. His hair is tousled, his eyes bright, and he has that smug grin on his face. Jerkface. He knows he looks good.
I march on over to him. He looks somewhat afraid of what I’ll do. That makes me smile. He instinctively covers his dick. I cross my arms and give him another once-over. “This will not be happening again. If I am to work for you this needs to be a professional atmosphere. I don’t want to work around some half-naked hipster who uses natural deodorant. You’re on probation, Ryder.” I walk to the elevator and he shuffles after me.
He chuckles. “Natural deodorant?” He raises his arm in the elevator and sniffs his armpit. “I smell fantastic. I use Gillette.”
I shake my head. “You smell like sex,” I say with disgust. He actually doesn’t smell, which makes me hate him more. Dylan’s so cocky he drives me crazy.
“Are you jealous, princess?” He moves to stand in front of me. My jaw drops at his insinuation. Jealous of what? I’d never want his bearded ass.
I poke my finger in his strong, well defined, tattooed chest. He’s like walking sex right now. “Let’s get one thing straight right now. We will not talk about my sex life and I don’t care to know about yours. That’s final,” I say with venom.
“God, I have a hard-on right now.” He laughs. I punch him in his arm and get off on his floor.
“Ouch!”
“You probably do get off on this don’t you, you Neanderthal.” Swinging my purse back over my shoulder, it grazes him and he lets out an “Oof.” We head back to his apartment/office. I was so tempted to check to see if he was hard. I smile to myself, because I didn’t give him the satisfaction. One point for Team Pink!
“Okay, how can I be a hipster and a Neanderthal?” He gives me a side glance as he opens the door to his apartment.
“You’re a Neanderthal trying to be a hipster,” I say gruffly. He just sighs at me.
“That makes no sense, Andy.” Dylan moves over to the kitchen where the half-naked woman is perched on a barstool eating a banana suggestively. I grimace at her ability to swallow the whole thing in one go. Damn, she has skills. I have a high gag reflex. “Babe, I gotta work now. I’ll walk you out.” Smooth, very smooth. She doesn’t even realize she’s getting the boot. She follows him to what I figure is his bedroom.
I’m left alone in his space. It’s huge. This would be a great office, if not for the big screen TV, couch, and beanbag chair in the corner. He has windows all on one side that look out over the city. Chicago looks great from here. I spot a desk near one of the windows, with a lamp and some paperwork already piled on top. I walk to the desk and notice he does already have work for me.
The woman walks out of Dylan’s room all dressed in a slinky dress. He follows her to the door. He has a pair of jeans and a black Smashing Pumpkins shirt on today. I hate the Smashing Pumpkins. The lead singer’s voice sounds like a goat crying. He gives her a quick kiss at the door and shoos her out, oblivious to the dismissal she just received. What a jerk. Looking back to the desk, I notice something . . . there’s only one.
“Are you ready to get down to business?” Dylan says as he grabs a box of Frosted Flakes cereal.
“So, there’s just one desk.” I motion to the one behind me.
“Yeah, I don’t need one.” He takes a handful of cereal and munches on it while simultaneously chugging a carton of milk. He’s like a child, a big man-child. He’s also barefoot and kind of sexy like that. Wait, no he’s not sexy. He’s a Neanderthal. I go back over to the desk and look over the paperwork. Everything seems to be in order. I notice a few things though.
“Dylan, these are some of our clients at Johnson and Banks.”
“Yes, princess, they are.” He doesn’t offer up more than that. This sounds fishy.
“Are you working for the new company?” I start to pace the floor in front of the desk. He’s relaxed at a barstool two fisting his breakfast.
“In a way, but I work for myself. Whatever it is you’re thinking, don’t. It’s completely legal. I can show you the paperwork if you’d like.” He seems annoyed. Dylan’s a smart guy and I know he’s intelligent enough not to do anything illegal. I still nod my head. He huffs and picks up a piece of paper under one of the many files on the desk. “Here. Just think of me as an independent contractor for them.”
The document says the name of the new company, P. Revere Accounting Firm. Dylan Ryder is listed on the forms and he seems to be working for the new company but not under anyone. Everything seems to be in order.
“Okay, what would you like me to do first? Oh, and one of my conditions was that I would have my own office away from you. I’m basically on top of you here.”
“Yeah, you are.”
Rolling my eyes, I set my purse down next to the desk.
4
“Dylan, this contract needs to be signed and you have to have a form for this. Oh, and where’s my insurance card?”
Dylan pauses his Halo videogame and saunters over to my desk. He signs the document and places it on top of the massive stack. “Your insurance card is in the mail. You should get it by Friday.” He smiles and returns to the couch.
“Okay, um, I’m gonna need help bringing up my office supplies. There’s a lot. I left the boxes with your doorman this morning.” I move to stand in front of him, when I hear his player die in the game. He sneers at me.
“All right.” He gets up and puts on his shoes, then stops suddenly. “Wait a minute. You’re not doing what I think you are, are you?”
“What do you mean?” Stopping near the doorway, I turn to look at him. I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“I don’t want a bunch of your frilly, pink, flowery shit in my apartment.” The nerve of this asshole!
“Rule three, I need my office supplies in order to do my job.” A smug smile graces my face. I hold the front door open for him. This is a non-negotiable issue. My supplies are a necessity to do my job. He’s just going to have to deal with my pink shit.
Dylan runs his hand down his face as he groans. “Shit. Motherfucker, flowery shit.” He places his hands on his hips and then points to my desk. “All that pink shit stays in that corner, princess, no bleeding anywhere else like the kitchen or bathroom, got it?” Dylan sounds so stern. It’s kind of turning me on.
“I just had my period, so we’re good.” Internally I high five myself for making him uncomfortable. I think I’m going to like this job after all.
“God, Andy. I do not want to know that crap.” He rubs at his temples. “We are not girlfriends watching Golden Girls while putting oatmeal face masks on. This is business and there will be no talk about that . . . at all, EVER.” I smile and open the door for him. He stalks over and points in my face like he’s about to say something and then resigns to the elevator. Team Pink: two, Smashing Pumpkins Loser: zero.
We finally get down to business after moving in all my supplies. Dylan’s still dressed in his jeans and T-shirt. This will definitely be a different work environment. I have to say he looks just as sexy filling out those dumb band shirts as he does a dress shirt. I mean if I’m stuck with him day in and day out, I can at least appreciate the view. After I have everything in order and where I want it, I turn to him. He’s sitting on the couch playing video games. I watch for a little while. “Top left,” I say.
“Wha?” The shooter in the videogame takes him out. “Damn it, Andy. I was on a fucking killing spree.” He lobs his controller on the coffee table and gets up. “I’m going to make some calls.” The bearded monster slithers to his natural habitat, his bedroom, and shuts the door. What’s a girl to do when all her work is done? I t
ap my fingers on the table itching to snag his controller. Fuck it. I’ll shatter his killing spree.
I move to the couch and sit on the black leather. Everything is black in here. I haven’t seen his comforter in his bedroom yet, but I bet that’s black as well. Not that I would ever want to go in there. I grab the controller and hit continue. I wait to join a group and then it’s on like Donkey Kong. By the time Dylan comes out of his room, I’ve obliterated his killing spree and ranked him up.
His phone dangles in his hand to his side. He’s completely speechless. I like this Dylan. I giggle to myself.
“What the hell? You play Halo? Please don’t tell me this was your first time playing.” He collapses on the couch next to me, completely gobsmacked.
“What? Oh yeah, I’ve never played before.” I try and hold in my laughter when I see his jaw drop. “I’m just fucking with you. Halo is my favorite game. Well, besides the old-school games.”
“Old-school games?” He looks from the TV to me. See Neanderthal, there is more to me than meets the eye.
“Yeah, I still have my old N64 and SNES.” He slides down off the couch onto his knees next to me.
“Marry me.” Laughing, I push his shoulder. He falls back on his ass near the coffee table. “How did you get into gaming?” Wow. He actually seems impressed. This is a new turn of events. He’s always quick to pigeon hole me. I’m busting out of this cage.
“I was an only child. My dad gave me video games to keep me preoccupied. It worked.” I rub my stomach because it’s lunchtime and I’m getting hungry. Walking over to his kitchen, I checkout his refrigerator. Typical guy, has nothing in there but cheese and sodas. I turn to look at him but he’s right behind me. It startles me but I don’t let on. “So, what about those free lunches you mentioned?” I give him a big smile and he returns it. I think he’s starting to realize that we have more in common than he originally thought.
