Filthy Boss

by Amy Brent

  After a while I notice I haven’t seen anything on Jake, and after looking him up individually I realize why. Article after article is nothing but drug and theft charges, college drop out transcripts, and even a picture of a text from his mom calling him a failure. His pictures are either mug shots or him flipping off the camera, and I have to scroll far to even find one of him smiling, and it looks like he was in high school.

  I find an article dated to over a year ago about the Kennedy brothers reuniting. A few paragraphs explain that they were going no contact for several years after high school until Emmet extended an offer to Jake for a business proposal. I read several theories that their mother forced Jake to accept the offer or else risk losing all of his inheritance. But then there are a few pieces about Jake spending every waking moment invested in the restaurant. From creating the vision of the restaurant to handpicking the chefs and menus and even spending over fifteen hours a day in the kitchen helping the workers with whatever they need.

  For the first time I feel drawn towards Jake. My own father cut me off financially after failing to get into law school, no matter how ridiculous the idea was and how many times I told him it wasn’t in the cards for me.

  I shut my laptop off and get ready for bed, prepping my speech until I drift into an uneasy sleep. I dream about the twins so much that when I wake I’m even more exhausted than I was before my eyes closed.

  Homework takes up the majority of my morning, until it’s an hour till our meeting time and I change into a pencil skirt and blouse that makes my hips even wider than usual and breasts pop. I never even interviewed for my job at Kennedy’s, Camila had vouched for me, and so I start to sweat and repeat my speech aloud over and over again. I plan on bringing up my strengths, and turn my weaknesses into a pro for the restaurant. A cab waits for me outside, and I dust on some shine resistant powder before running to meet it.

  The hotel is right in the middle of downtown, at the top of one of the highest skyscrapers. I pay the cab and stand at the front of the building, surprised when a doorman appears and opens the door for me.

  “I’m here for a meeting.” I hand him the business card.

  “Elevator to your left, forty-eighth floor. The floor host will show you to the room.” The doorman instructs and leads me to the elevator. The inside of the hotel is immaculate, with gold trimming against black marbled walls. Everyone that walks in or out is dressed in outfits that I could only imagine touching, and it’s obvious as they stare at my thrift shop shoes and goodwill clothes with distaste.

  My fear of heights kicks in as the elevator soars to the forty-eighth floor. I fix my hair in the mirrors of the elevator, bunching the corkscrews at the bottom to add volume at the top. My dark skin has a natural blush to it, no doubt because of my anxiety, and I bite my lips. My suit makes me look more plump and accentuates my curves, and I hope the distraction is enough to convince the brothers to keep my job.

  A man greets me as soon as the elevator doors open, and before I can even show him the business card he offers me his arm.

  “Miss Lewis, correct? The Kennedy’s are expecting you.”

  “Let me guess, not many colored women go up and down these floors?” I try to joke but the floor host frowns in confusion.

  “I haven’t the slightest idea what you could mean.” He purses his lips and leads me to the very last door in the hallway. It opens into a parlor and he suggests to wait here. “The Kennedys should be out momentarily to receive you.” He says and closes the door behind him.

  I clutch my purse awkwardly and sit on a stiff couch that rests against the wall on the left of the door. A banquet table is in the middle of the room with breakfast pastries, and another table sits against the opposite wall with a toaster oven and a fridge. I consider getting a small plate with maybe a bagel and cream cheese, but a commotion nearby glues me to my seat.

  “I don’t give a shit what you have to say to me.” I can barely make out the muffled words. A door open and closes, and I realize it’s Jake on the phone just around the corner of the parlor. “He didn’t do any of the work behind the scenes. You gave him the credit so of course they’re only going to praise him. The only reason that restaurant is even making any money is because all the shit I put into it.”

  I try coughing to let him know I’m in the same room, but he yells over it.

  “Well I’ll just be a fuck up for the rest of my life then!” He curses as he hangs up the phone, and our eyes lock when he storms into view.

  My prepared speech is long forgotten as he glares at me with pure animosity.

  “Lamy.” He sneers. “Emmet’s running late, but he did say it was ultimately up to me so let’s just get this over with.”

  “Remy, actually.” I manage to find my voice and a bit of attitude along with it. “And I didn’t hear anything important, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I don’t worry about shit. You’re here to beg for your job, so let’s hear it.” He leans against the breakfast table and impatiently taps his foot. I realize the last thing I want to do is beg at the feet of a man like him.

  “I planned on it, you know. But after reading about you and hearing that conversation, I don’t think I’m going to beg to someone who’s not that far above me.” I stand and rest a hand on my hip.

  “Excuse me?” Jake raises his eyebrows.

  “You heard me, you big bully. You may have had success and money thrown at your feet, but deep down you still feel like a failure. You still feel like you have something to prove to everyone to get out of that shadow of your brother that you’re stuck in.” My mouth keeps moving without taking the time to even reflect on what I’m saying. “I’ve worked my ass off to prove that I’m not some spoiled daddy’s girl. I work eighty hour weeks while still going to school so I can prove that I rely on no one but myself. I haven’t taken a vacation in years, I gave up my dream of traveling the world and after years of sacrifice all I have to show for it is two years worth of college credits with no student loans and this job that I know like the back of my hand. So, sweetie, if you’re willing to fire me because I don’t grovel at your feet, then fine. I guess we both are just going to spend the rest of our lives proving ourselves to those who don’t believe in us.”

  “You think you know me?” His cheeks are red and his eyes twitch with a snarl on his lips. I’ve struck a nerve. “You can’t spend five minutes on google and then claim you know my life.”

  “But I can spend five minutes and learn that you were given a second chance after screwing up the first. I know you have a mother that doesn’t believe in you, despite the fact that you have poured every ounce of your soul into your restaurant. I know you recognize a hard worker because you are one yourself, and as difficult as it is to admit this, I know that I admire that part of you a lot more than the part of you that acts like an ass every time someone looks at you the wrong way.”

  Jake stares at me with lowered eyes, his hands gripping the edge of the table behind him. “I can appreciate being put in my place if it’s by someone who knows hers.” He finally says.

  It’s not until now that I realize I just fucked up my chances of keeping my job. But I hold my ground as Jake walks towards me. I grow anxious as he gets closer, until he takes a seat on the couch and pats the space next to him. Hesitantly, I sit on the very edge.

  “I don’t think anyone’s ever credited me for anything.” He admits. “It’s always Emmet this or Emmet that. The golden boy.” He glances at me. “Growing up some family members even called me Emmet’s brother, like they weren’t related to me. I can’t imagine a better way to set a child up for failure.”

  “But you didn’t fail.” I say and scoot closer. Our knees brush, reminding me of the dirty scene in my head, and I back away quickly. “Kennedy’s is one of the top rating restaurants in the city. And let’s be real, you’re living in a hotel like this.” I gesture at the room. “You didn’t fail at all.”

  He smirks and gives me a funny lo
ok. “So you said you gave up your dream to travel. Where did you want to go?”

  I dive in and tell him about my Paris dreams, of eating a scone and baguette on a cute little street with flowers in my hair and a French cigarette between my fingers. “Not that I would actually smoke it. I just feel like it completes the vision.” We laugh, and I find myself opening up to him about my father cutting me off financially. “He calls maybe once a month, I think, to make sure I’m still alive. But I’ll never forget what he said the last time I saw in person. Said I ain’t nothing but a black hoe statistic.”

  “Fuck the type of man who could say that to his daughter.” Jake curses. “I’d like to beat the shit out of him.”

  He moves his arm to rest besides me on the couch, and without realizing what I’m doing my hand reaches out to trace a thick, black tattoo that swirls from his hand to his biceps. He draws in a breath and I pull back, but a strong hand grabs mine and puts it back on his arm where I can feel his muscles bulge beneath the skin. I squirm against the couch as his fingers close around my wrist.

  Just a few hours ago I was cursing this particular Kennedy brother, but now all I want to do is find out how the rest of his skin would feel beneath my touch. His clear blue eyes meet mine, and I realize he is going to be a lot more complicated than I initially expected.

  Jake Kennedy’s right arm circles around my shoulders, his fingertips tracing the top of my blouse. It makes me shiver, but I don’t want to move.

  “Remy,” He says, and I want to hear my name on his lips again. Jake locks eyes with me and opens his mouth as another door slams shut. We both jump to our feet while putting distance between us as Emmet casually strolls in. He notices us and takes a double take before smiling pleasantly.

  “I was worried I’d find the two of you in a wrestling match. This is unexpected.” He hands a folder to Jake who opens it. “I went ahead and got a few character testimonies from Miss Lewis’ coworkers, and a record of her employment. She’s never called off in over a year, and comes in about eighty percent of the time that someone else calls in sick.”

  Jake nods, his eyes glancing over at me.

  “Thank you.” I turn to Emmet. His eyes are even lighter with the soft gray sweater he wears, and dark slacks compliment his shiny business shoes. Even with the thick fabric the muscles on his arms are still visible and I force myself to look at his face. Which also isn’t a hard thing to do. “I didn’t even think to bring a copy of that.”

  “I wanted a convincing argument. Shall we take a seat?” He gestures to the couches as Jake hands him back the folder and shakes his head.

  “She keeps her job.” He says.

  “And what we talked about earlier?” Emmet raises his eyebrows.

  “Yeah, that’s fine.” Jake crosses his arms.

  Emmet sighs in relief and turns back to me.

  “Somehow you and I both have not only managed to convince Jake to keep your job, but we also wanted to offer you a raise. An extra ten thousand a year.” He tells me. I cover my mouth with my hands and take a seat behind me.

  “What? Why?” I say between my fingers. An extra ten thousand? That would cover the rest of my tuition easily.

  “You’ve done an incredible job at the restaurant. David and all your coworkers vouched for you, saying you bring in the most tips. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as dedicated as you are.” Emmet turns to Jake and suggests he adds something but his twin merely shrugs.

  “You’re saying it all.” He mutters.

  Emmet kneels in front of me and puts a hand on my knee. I gasp lightly, squeezing my thighs together so he doesn’t see the effect he’s giving me.

  “Thank you.” I whisper. Emmet praises me even more, but I can barely understand anything. Instead I’m watching his mouth as he speaks, fascinated by his heart shaped lips. I notice a tiny dimple when he smiles, and I glance over to Jake to see if he has one as well. But Jake is scowling and watching Emmet intently, and as our eyes meet he straightens his face and looks away. But I can’t help but feel his usual animosity in the air towards me, despite our bonding not that long ago.

  “We decided to stay a bit longer.” Emmet finally says. “There’s a building we’re looking at to open the second Kennedy’s about an hour away, and the negotiations are taking longer than expected so we’re going to be visiting the restaurant a few more times.”

  “Hopefully you can manage to not ruin a paying customers’ dinner and actually show us why so many people are impressed by you, because I’m certainly not.” Jake says. I bite my tongue from a response, knowing how thin the ice is with him.

  “We just want to see you in action.” Emmet clarifies and throws his twin a distasteful look.

  “I promise I’ll prove myself to you. To the both of you.” Jake refuses to look at me and instead merely nods at the wall across from him and storms out, glaring one last time at his brother.

  “I’m not sure how you did it.” Emmet murmurs. He squeezes my hand softly, and though they’re much softer than Jake’s I still react to them the same way. “You’ve seem to have done the impossible.”

  “What’s that?” I ask. Emmet stands, leaving my hand cold.

  “Despite his words, you’ve impressed him. He wouldn’t have agreed to give you another chance had you failed.”

  “I think I have a long way to go before he thinks highly of me.” I admit, but Emmet shakes his head.

  “I know my brother. He respects hard work. As I’m sure you know, I’ve had an easier life than him. He’s worked hard to get where he is, while sometimes it feels like I was handed it on a silver platter.” He takes a seat next to me, where Jake had been sitting not long ago.

  “That doesn’t mean you haven’t had your struggles.” I say. “And I can’t even imagine the pressure of having everyone watching your every move. The constant struggle of being perfect, saying the right things at the right times.” I play with the bottom of my skirt. “I was always told that as a black woman people were going to pick my words apart. ‘Is she educated?’ ‘Did her daddy abandon her?’ ‘Is she from the hood?’. I’ve had to convince my professors and employers that I was serious about school and work. But you have to do the same thing to thousands of people on a daily basis.”

  “Remy,” Emmet says. “Don’t ever think you have to convince us of anything.” He’s politer than Jake was, keeping a safe distance between us, but I’m surprised when I realize I want to close that space. “You’re beautiful, smart, and incredible. And anyone who doubts that because you’re a different shade than them is seriously lacking in the brain.”

  “Thank you.” I say. My body leans towards him, gravitating to his warm and friendly smile. Emmet’s eyes soften as mine lower, but his entire body stiffens abruptly.

  “I just remembered I have a meeting to attend. Jake is probably already there.” He rushes to his feet, shifting awkwardly as I stand and clutch my purse. “I’ll ring Albert, he’s the doorman, and he’ll call you a cab to take you anywhere you want to go. Free of charge.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary.” I argue but Emmet’s already on the phone with Albert. “Thank you.” I say when he hangs up.

  “It’s no problem.” Like Jake, it seems Emmet is having a hard time meeting my eyes. “We’ll see you at the restaurant sometime. Good bye, Remy, keep up the good work.”

  Emmet leaves me alone in the million dollar parlor. I grab a banana nut muffin and a small glass of water, feeling dizzy and anxious. It’s not until the cab drops me off at the front of my apartment complex and I’m checking my mail that I realize something.

  I wanted nothing more than to touch both brothers, and it’s a thought that both terrifies and excites me.

  My thoughts are jumbled the following day at work. I’m slow and ask customers to repeat their orders and even mess up a few specials while listing them. Camila notices it and asks what’s wrong, but I shrug and say I must be getting sick. Scott comes in at his usual time and I scowl, already
dreading our interaction. The hostess tries to seat him in Camila’s territory but he refuses and asks to be seated in mine. The only thing that keeps me from losing my cool is knowing I’ll at least get a decent tip out of him.

  “You’re looking awfully sweet today.” He says as I bring him his regular beer.

  “I had yesterday off. A night off does wonders for the skin.” I leave before he’s able to continue the conversation. Not even Scott Picton can take my mind off of the twins.

  I desperately want to be near them again. Jake’s cold fingertips and Emmet’s warm hand were all I could think about for the last twenty four hours. Twenty four hours that I had to keep from touching myself or else risk imagining them in risqué positions. Every time the door opens I suck in a breath, waiting to hear their voices. I come to work the next day again, longing to hear their voices.

  But it’s not until the third day that they do come back.

  “I don’t have a table available.” I interrupt the hostess as they stand at the front. “But it should only be another fifteen before one’s ready.” Jake and Emmet glance at one another.

  “They requested Camila’s table.” Sophie says and gets their menus. “Sorry, Remy.” She whispers as she leads them to the other side of the restaurant. The twins don’t look back at me.

  I know I wasn’t imagining things yesterday. Not the way Jake looked at me or the way Emmet touched my knee. Camila takes their order with a red face, no doubt stumbling over her words as Emmet charms her with his smile and Jakes offers nothing but a disinterested glare. I’m always on the other end of a flirt, brushing off men’s admirations and catcalls, but I’ve never been one to chase after a boy.