by Emily Bishop
Find the love of your life, then see them for the first time.
Does that sell it? I’m not convinced. Maybe I do need to get some sleep. My brain might be busted.
My phone buzzes and makes a little noise. My eyebrows narrow in confusion as I open the app. It’s not Angel. I’m sure she must be sleeping soundly after our little interlude. What is the app trying to tell me?
“Congratulations! You have chatted long enough to reveal images. Good luck in the next phase of your relationship!”
My stomach drops. Kieran was right. It didn’t matter how long we put off answering the question. In the end, the app made the next step for us. There is a Next button to touch to see the clear image of the woman I’ve been giving tiny pieces of my soul to all this time. Maybe I can hack into the app and find a way to delay the reveal.
A small box appears on the top corner of the screen.
“Your partner has seen you!” it says. So cheerful. So excited.
I release a breath and prepare for what’s next. I tap the button, and Sasha’s face appears, bright and clear as day.
Fuck.
With that little bit of blur, I was able to hold out hope that there might be a chance this wasn’t our situation. Now things are going to get messy. I don’t know how to handle messy.
I only know one person who does.
I tap in Kieran’s phone number and press the Call button. It rings twice before he answers.
“This is Kieran’s late-night secretary. How can I direct your call?”
“Don’t you ever sleep?” I ask.
Kieran laughs. “No. I’m just getting in from the club. Some pretty hot ladies there. I almost brought a few home, but I’m trying to cut back on chances of STDs.”
“Great,” I say. I regret calling him. Maybe I should hang up now.
“What’s up, Bo? You never call me at this time unless it’s something terribly unimportant. You working on the marketing plan?”
“Am I that transparent?”
“Yes,” he says.
There’s a pregnant pause while he waits for me to get on with it.
“Before I go on, I need you not be an asshole about this. Are you capable of that?”
“Hmm, not sure, but I can try. Did someone die? You sound like someone died.”
Yeah, my first potential relationship with a human being. No big deal.
“Remember when you made the assumption that I had been dating someone using the app?”
“Yes. I take it that relationship isn’t going well, now?”
“It’s Sasha.”
“Who’s Sasha?”
I frown. Just the other day, Kieran was mooning all over her, hitting on her right in front of me. Tonight, he can’t even remember her name.
“My assistant,” I remind him.
He hoots into the phone. “Oh my god. The hot redhead? You’ve been dating her in secret this whole time? You fucking dog! No wonder you were so snippy with me when I talked about asking her out!”
“I wasn’t snippy with you. And I didn’t know it was her until just now when our time ran out and revealed our pictures. I can tell that she’s seen mine, too. How the fuck are we going to navigate this, Kieran?”
Kieran laughs into the phone. I might slam it against my desk. I don’t have time for this bullshit.
“Kieran, this isn’t a fucking joke. We could be in serious trouble here if she decides to file harassment. You feel like losing all that money we’ve earned?”
“Well, I still have my parents’ money to fall back on, so that’s not really a threat to me. Also, she clicked the accept button when she signed on to that account. It renders her a consenting adult to whatever activity may have gone on. If she was going to report you for misconduct, I should hope she would have used that option already. Besides, were you abusive to her?”
“No. But we… we…”
Kieran bursts into laughter again. I’m so glad he’s getting such enjoyment out of my ruin. Fucker.
“What, so you had virtual sex with each other? Is that even considered sexting when it’s through an app? I wonder if we can coin a new phrase and circulate it around social media. It can be the new sex trend. We could start a sex trend!”
The business part of my brain agrees. We could sell to a lot more people if we do that. I store the idea away. The other part of me wants to punch Kieran in the face.
“Kieran, can you be serious for one fucking minute? I’m fucked here, and you’re laughing in my face. Be a fucking friend.”
That seems to dull his mood a little.
“All right, all right. So, you accidentally had relations with your assistant at work. Neither of you are at fault here. How were you to know that you were talking to each other? All you were doing is researching to recreate the consumer experience.”
I feel minutely better at those words.
“Now you can work together to create the sex culture that will change the world!”
There’s humor back in his voice. He was able to be serious for approximately thirty seconds. Why am I friends with this asshole again? Because he was there for me as a kid? Does that even hold clout anymore?
“You can get some practice in at the office now, too, now that you know who you both are.”
“Fuck off, Kieran,” I growl.
“You fuck off. You’re the boss. You can fuck whomever you like. You think you’re the first person to screw his assistant? Are you living under some kind of rock? That’s kind of what CEOs do.”
“Kieran, when did you become such a repulsive person? Have you always been like this, and I’ve just never seen it?”
“Chill out, Bo. I’m just telling it like it is. This is the way of the world. Women get fucked by men, and then we move on. It’s a short end of the stick for them, but hey, it works to our favor, doesn’t it?”
“Fuck you, Kieran. That is not the way things work. If I find that you’ve been disrespecting any of the women in my office, I will fire you on the spot. Do I make myself clear?”
“Ooh, big scary boss man comes out. This whole Sasha thing has you messed up in the head. I recommend you get some sleep. When you wake up, you’ll realize that this really isn’t a big deal. You’re both adults. Act like it. Adults have sex and get on with their lives. Don’t turn it into some kind of drama.”
Clearly, this phone call was the biggest mistake I’ve made, just short of creating a damn profile in the first place. I can’t count the number of mistakes I’ve made at this point. It’s impossible. I’m such a fucking mess.
“Yeah, sure. Thanks for the pep talk, friend.”
“Any time! I’ll be in early tomorrow to watch the two of you be uncomfortable around one another. Can’t wait.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary. I require you in the office uptown.”
“No, you don’t. You can’t ship me off just because you don’t want an audience to your humiliation. That’s what friends are for!”
Something tells me after all these years that my friendship with Kieran may need to be reevaluated.
“Regardless, I have a new staff member starting in our branch office, and I need you to be there to welcome them and give them the tour in the morning. I’m looking ahead to the next project, and that person will be able to help. It’s not a request, Kieran. I want you uptown tomorrow.”
“You have never once ordered me to be anywhere. Are you seriously going to try this now? How about this, instead. I catch a flight to Aruba and spend the rest of the week there. Would that suit your fancy?”
“Whatever. I just better not see your fucking face tomorrow. I’m sorry I ever called you.”
“Aw, come on, Bo. Don’t be like that.”
I hang up the phone. I can’t stand to hear his voice a moment longer.
I lean back in my chair and think about when I met Kieran. We got into some crazy shit together as kids. He was my best friend. I lived with his family for the rest of my tenure as an orphan. Do I
owe him my friendship still? I’ve paid him back tenfold with the businesses I’ve managed while he flitted around, taking half-credit for investing.
Anyway, Kieran is the least of my problems at the moment. I glance back down at my phone. The screen has gone black with disuse, so I poke it awake.
Sasha’s smiling face looks up at me. A part of me must have known, on some level. I pictured her face when we fucked. Something in me has wanted her this entire time, even knowing that I would never really be interested in my own assistant.
I poke through our conversations, and my heart pounds in my temples. I told her so much. So many personal things. Things I would never in a million years want a worker of mine to know. What was I thinking? How could I let myself get so caught up in the mystery of it all, in the game?
Obviously, the premise of the app works. If it worked on me, it will work on anyone.
I frown as I scroll and scroll, reading through our overt sex conversations. There is now written proof of my indiscretion. If she decides to take me to court for any reason, she has everything I’ve said in writing. Was that her plan all along? To find me out, trick me into a relationship with her, then bilk me of my money?
I can’t believe Angel would do something like that, but would Sasha? She seems like an ambitious person. How far is she willing to go for her own success?
I click through the settings. Now it’s time to test one more thing, and let’s see how easy this part is. A few more taps and I find myself at the area to delete my account. I tap the button. It asks me if I’m sure.
Oh, I’m sure. I’ll never do anything as foolish as this again. I can’t stand myself for letting it happen in the first place. I confirm that I want it to end, and just like that, the login screen appears, asking me to create an account.
Goodbye, Angel.
A heavy weight sits on my chest as I lean back in my seat. I’ve lost something big tonight, without meaning to. Now I’ve got to face the consequences of my actions. I have to find a way to get Sasha to move on from this, so we can both move on.
It’s over.
Chapter Fifteen
Sasha
At some point in the night, I cried myself to sleep. Sunlight pours over my pillow. It presses against my eyelids, willing me to wake up to a world I want no part of.
A world where Master doesn’t exist.
I crack open a puffy eyelid and glance at my clock. It’s still early enough to get to work on time, but I consider calling out sick. Like maybe for the rest of my tenure. Maybe Booker can just send me a termination letter, and we will never need to speak to one another again.
Even that idea makes me sad. As much as I dislike Booker Knight, I know that he is also the man behind the screen, the one I was falling in love with.
What a mess this all is.
A sense of dread settles over me as I force myself out of bed. When I catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror, I cringe. My eyes are puffy from crying, and my hair is in complete disarray. I look broken, and I promised myself I would never let myself get broken by a man.
One month in New York, and that promise is already dissolved.
I think about going into the office, and a wave of panic washes over me. How am I going to face him, after all I’ve shared? After all we’ve… done?
I wash my face and hope it will make me feel invigorated. Maybe give me the strength to carry on and survive this complicated little situation I’ve gotten myself into. I go into autopilot mode. I pin up my hair. I put on some makeup. I dress in a sleek gray pantsuit and slide into my heels. If I can do things as I normally do, maybe I’ll survive this day.
I glance at my phone.
Maybe he’s said something, and I didn’t hear the ding. Maybe Booker can be the one to give me some kind of direction for how to navigate my world after this mix-up. I open up the app and click on our conversation history.
“Master has deleted his account. This chat will be deleted in five days. If you wish to delete it now, press the X at the top of the screen.”
I go numb. He deleted his account shortly after learning it was me on the other side of the screen.
Well, that doesn’t bode well, now does it? I walk across the room to grab a bagel from the kitchen, but my stomach lurches at the thought of food. I plop into a kitchen chair as another bout of fear and anxiety and despair hits me at once.
Master… Booker… was the strongest connection I’ve ever had with a man. I’ve lost the one tenuous tie to the one person in the world who might have cared for me on a romantic level, whom I could confide in and trust. That future is gone. The rug has been swept out from beneath my feet, and I am left with my back to the ground, dazed and confused.
Not only that, but I could lose my job today as well. I’ve been scared to get fired since the moment I started, but the possibility has never been more real. Texting in a meeting, being a little fresh, those are minor infractions.
Sexting with the boss under an alias? That’s kind of a bigger deal.
I bend over and breathe in and out in an attempt to calm my mind. There is nothing for it. I’m going to have to face him. I can’t hide in my apartment for the rest of my life.
I slide my jacket on and grasp the strap of my work bag. I square my shoulders, but they sink right back down.
Nothing can cheer me up today. My feet are like lead as I trudge through the crowds. I pack myself into a train car and stare ahead with a blank expression. I wish I could let my mind go numb. I wish I could have a drink and laugh this all off.
If only.
The train reaches my stop, and I pour out with a group of other people as we wind our way to our jobs. Normally, I love the feeling of being in this crowd of productive, innovative people. Today, I feel confined, trapped, forced along a road I am not ready to walk.
My building looms ahead.
What is he going to say? He was equally a part of this, after all. Maybe I should point that out to him. I’m not the only one who was in the wrong through all this.
I hate calling it wrong. It felt so amazingly right. Why did it feel so right?
Clearly, it was a huge mistake.
The elevator carries me upward as my blood pulses through my veins. I wonder if I’ll faint before I get to my office, and then I’m instantly annoyed at myself. I’m being ridiculous. This is a situation that is uncomfortable and strange, but we’re going to find a way to get through it.
I’m going to find a way to do that and keep my job at the same time.
The doors open. The office looks as it normally does, with people working like bees in their offices and cubes. The steel bars along the ceiling cast a blue glint in the morning sun. When I look straight ahead to Booker’s office, I see the door is firmly closed.
I release a breath.
OK, at least I don’t have to deal with it first thing out of the gate. Or maybe that would be better. Now I have to deal with wondering what’s going on behind that door. Perhaps my termination paperwork?
No. I have to believe he values my work enough to spare me the rod in this case. I have to. I force my legs to work as I grimace at my colleagues in greeting. I receive a few curious glances in return as I book it to my office and quietly unlock the door.
Maybe if he doesn’t hear me come in, we don’t have to have the conversation.
I slide into my chair and turn on my computer screen. One look at the app logo and I can hardly stand it. I rise from my seat and step out of my office, though I have no idea what I intend to do with myself.
Maybe a cup of tea will help. Yes. Tea soothes nerves. I could use that.
I make my way to our staff kitchen.
“Hey, Sasha!”
I jump and turn at the sound of a man’s voice. It’s Rick, who looks deeply confused as to why I just jumped like someone spooked me.
“Whoa, you all right? You seem a little on edge this morning.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a weird night’s sleep.”
“Y
ou’re not the only one. I’m pretty sure Mr. Knight like, spent the night here or something. He was here before we got here at five to do some testing, but he’s had his door closed the entire time. Super weird. He’s not the most social person, but he always has his door open.”
“Yeah, that is weird,” I mumble.
I heat up a cup of water and dip a green tea bag in.
“Maybe it’s just stress as we get closer to the launch. I haven’t worked here during a launch before, so that could be it. Maybe he’s just getting in the zone,” Rick hedges.
I shrug. “Far be it from me to try and puzzle out the complex man that is Mr. Knight.”
Rick laughs as he walks out of the room. “You said it. I hope that tea helps you wake up a bit!”
“Thanks,” I say. I keep my eyes down as I trudge back to my office. I can’t help but sneak a glance at Booker’s door.
“Sasha! You never said good morning! What’s going on with you?”
Lucy pops out of her office. Her voice rings down the hall, high-pitched enough that I’m sure Booker can hear it.
“Hey,” I say in a near whisper. I glide into her office, right past her. When she turns to look at me, her gaze is confused.
“What is going on, Sasha? You always say hi to me in the morning. And you never drink tea.” She looks me up and down, taking me in. “You look terrible. What’s wrong? Did you go out drinking last night? On a work night?”
“No. I just didn’t sleep well. That’s all.”
“No, it’s not,” Lucy protests. “Look at you. You’re totally freaked out. What happened to you?”
“I’m not freaked out. I’m allowed to be tired every once in a while,” I snap. I hear a noise behind us, and I can’t keep my gaze from darting back toward Booker’s office. When I look back at Lucy, she crosses her arms.
“Oh my god. Do you have a crush on our boss?”
Her tone is accusatory. What does she have to accuse me of?
“Of course, I don’t. Why would you even say such a thing?”
“Because you’ve been perfectly normal until today, when Mr. Knight’s door is closed off to the world. What, are you sad he’s not available for you to stare at him? I’ve seen the way you look at him, you know. You need to be more careful.”
