Hating My New Boss

by B. B. Hamel

  “It’s incredible,” I say. “This room alone is almost bizarre.”

  “Yes,” she says vaguely. “It’s one of my favorites.”

  “Why?” Remi asks her. “I mean, why this… Viking thing, with the hotel right out there?”

  “I like the contrast,” Blair says simply. “We strive for contrasts here.”

  Remi gives me a meaningful look and I lock that away in my mind.

  “Well, it was a good trip and we’re excited to get to know you more,” I tell her.

  She nods imperceptibly. Suddenly, three women, all small and pale and wearing that bellhop outfit, come out from a side door carrying trays covered with domed tops. They place the trays in front of us and remove the domes, revealing…

  McDonald’s French fries and chicken nuggets, artfully arranged.

  “Enjoy,” Blair says, totally deadpan as the bellhops scurry off. I look at Remi and she seems as bewildered as I feel.

  I start eating the food. It’s McDonald’s, all right. I’m not really in the mood for unhealthy amounts of fast food, but I’m not going to be rude to my host and ignore it. Remi does the same thing, picking at the food, and sipping from the drinking horns in front of us. At least those have water instead of mead.

  I’m trying to wrap my head around the idea of eating Chicken McNuggets in a Viking replica longhouse and drinking water from what appears to be an actual animal horn when Blair clears her throat. I barely hear it at first, despite the deep and almost deafening silence in the room.

  “I am happy the two of you are here,” she says softly.

  I perk up and watch her. I feel Remi straightening across from me.

  “While you are here, you are free to do as you please. Nothing is off limits. You may leave whenever you wish, although please, tell someone before you wander off. We are deep in the jungle and it would be very easy for you to get lost.”

  “I don’t plan on doing any serious hiking,” Remi says lightly.

  “Very good.” Blair clears her throat again. “I do not think you know how much it means to me that you are both here. I hope… I hope we can create something good together.”

  I think it’s the most I’ve ever heard her speak. “Thank you for your hospitality,” I say to her, taking on her formal diction. “We really appreciate all of this.”

  “Of course.” She stands. “Enjoy your meal of McDonald’s Chicken McNuggets. They are fresh, I assure you.” She turns and leaves out a side door without another word.

  I’m just sitting there, stunned as hell, when Remi lets out a little laugh.

  “What?” I ask her.

  “I didn’t know there was such a thing as ‘fresh’ McNuggets.”

  I grin at that. “Good point.”

  She shakes her head, clearly as bewildered as I feel. “Seriously, Justin, what the hell is happening here?”

  “I have no clue,” I say softly.

  “Look at this place. I mean… it’s amazing, right? And totally batshit crazy?”

  “Beyond amazing, beyond crazy.” I take a bite of a nugget, the freshest I’ve ever tasted. “I have to admit, I love it.”

  “I do too.” She laughs softly. “What do we do now?”

  “Whatever we want, I think. We’re here for a week, so… we might as well enjoy it.”

  “And get some work done.”

  “Absolutely. But also have fun.”

  She sighs, but she’s smiling. I love that smile more than I care to admit.

  “Okay, fine. I’ll have some fun, but not too much.”

  “Just enough fun sounds good to me.” I finish my horn of water and look around. “So, uh, what? Do we just, like, leave?”

  Almost as if by magic, the same bellhop porter girl appears from a corner. I’m fucking startled as she practically materializes.

  “Were you there the whole time?” Remi asks, eyes wide.

  “Yes, mistress,” she says.

  “Mistress? What the fucking…” Remi trails off as I laugh to myself.

  “What is wrong, master?” The girl cocks her head.

  I stare in horror at her and it’s Remi’s turn to laugh.

  “Please just call us Remi and Justin,” I say quickly. “Seriously, no more of that… master… stuff.”

  “As you wish, Justin.” She shrugs a little. “I’ve been instructed to treat you two as my owners.”

  “Owners?” Remi echoes.

  “As if I were your slave.”

  “Oh, fucking…” Remi groans and stands up. “Seriously, don’t ever say ‘slave’ again, okay?”

  “Beyond fucked up,” I whisper, trying not to laugh. It’s so bizarre and weird and wrong that it’s almost funny.

  “Mistress Blair has a strange sense of what’s appropriate,” the girl admits.

  “Look, what’s your name?” I ask her.

  She blinks. “Tara,” she says. “Nobody ever actually asks my name.”

  “Well, nice to meet you, Tara. Please don’t ever say the word ‘slave’ ever again. You can act like our friend and help us out.”

  She looks skeptical. “Friends?” She sighs. “Will I still get paid?”

  I look at Remi like, I think I’m losing my fucking mind, can you believe this shit? and Remi just laughs softly.

  “Of course you will.” She stands up slowly and nods at me. “Let’s go back to our rooms and get some rest, okay?”

  “Fine by me.”

  “Follow me,” Tara says, heading back the way we came.

  We walk behind the girl, maybe ten paces back. I study the way she moves and I’m pretty sure she can’t be any older than sixteen.

  She drops us off outside of our rooms and takes her leave, melting away down the hall. I stand there, trying to make sense of what’s going on around me while Remi leans up against a wall.

  “Well, this is officially the most insane thing ever,” she says.

  “Seriously. I heard this place was wild, but this is…”

  “Way beyond that,” Remi finishes for me.

  I nod slowly. “Way, way beyond. We’re in another fucking dimension.”

  “We’re in Spine.”

  I look back at her, frowning slightly. “Excuse me?”

  “Spine.” She gestures around her. “This is their world.”

  It takes me a second to understand. “You think that Blair modeled this compound after her virtual reality game?”

  “Maybe not exactly, but it kind of functions that way, right? Timelines are all mixed up, social norms are totally dispensed with, weird crap juxtaposed against other bizarre shit…” She trails off, shaking her head. “It’s a total mishmash of everything Blair likes.”

  “It’s Spine,” I repeat softly.

  “Yeah.”

  “So how do we use this place to create any kind of cohesive vision for their brand?”

  She hesitates. “I have no fucking clue.”

  I laugh a little. “Okay, that’s actually comforting. At least I’m not the only one groping around in the dark here.”

  We stand there silently for another minute. I shift toward her, eyes roaming down her body. She doesn’t flinch away and it’s like the unrelenting weirdness of this place brings us together, the only sane people in a world full of the insane.

  Finally, she breaks the spell. “I’m exhausted,” she says. “I think I’m just going to go do some work then sleep a bit.”

  “Okay,” I say softly. “I think I’m going to explore.”

  “Good luck. Remember what Rick said.”

  I grin and look around. I can’t see Tara, but I suspect she’s lurking nearby. “Don’t worry. We made a new friend today.”

  Remi laughs a little and turns away. I watch her disappear back into her room. I stand there for a second, thinking about bringing her back out and making her explore with me, but I let her go.

  I know I’ll have other chances, even if I’m supremely impatient to taste her here and now, right away, right in this moment.

&
nbsp; 15

  Remi

  McNuggets for dinner, Viking rooms, labyrinths, bellhops. I feel like I’ve been transported to another universe, and in a way, I think I have.

  We’re in Blair’s own little world. This is probably a physical approximation of her mind, as close as we can get to the little drawers and filing cabinets inside her brain. This compound is Spine and it’s Blair and it’s the center of everything, the key to our project.

  If only I could see how it all fits together and unlocks.

  I take a shower and let the warm water stream down my skin. I try not to think about Justin this time, about his body and his wily smile, about his humor and his mind. I have to ignore him, keep it all together, because the project is more important.

  It’s like we’re in a game and Blair’s trying to distract us with each other. I’m not going to fall for that trap.

  After my shower, I dry off, put on comfy clothes, and slip into bed. The sheets are surprisingly comfortable, not at all the starchy, scratchy sheets you usually get in a hotel. I guess in Blair’s world, everything looks like what it is, just slightly tilted off-center when you peer a little more closely.

  I decide to flip on the TV and let myself be a zombie until sleep comes. The screen comes on, but it’s all snow. I flip through the channels and it doesn’t take long before I realize that there’s only one channel, and it can’t be native to this island.

  It’s a public cable access channel from the Chicago area, circa 1990s. I’m guessing this is what Blair used to watch when she was a little girl.

  The current show features two old women trying to learn to crosshatch, which keeps my attention for a shocking amount of time. Four episodes slip past, and I’m still wide awake, wondering what the next crazy thing is going to be.

  A knock at the door rips me from my thoughts. I sit there, totally still, wondering: is this another test sent by Blair? Maybe Rick with a rifle, telling me we need to hunt down a crocodile that got loose from the crocodile room?

  I get out of bed and pad on over to the door, opening it without looking through the peephole. Justin grins at me, his eyes a little wild.

  “You have to come with me.”

  I hesitate. This is worse than some crazy test sent by Blair.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “I found something pretty amazing.”

  “How long have you been wandering around?”

  His turn to hesitate. He looks at his watch. “I don’t know. A couple hours. Who cares? Come on, Remi.”

  “I’m not dressed.”

  He looks down at my body, at my short cotton shorts and my loose t-shirt. “That’s perfect.”

  I bite my lip. “Justin.”

  “Remi. Come on. You’re going to like it, I promise.”

  I sigh, but for some reason, I believe him. Probably because this compound is hiding way more than I’ll ever guess at.

  “Fine. Hold on.” I slip back into my room, grab a pair of sandals, and slip them on. I find him waiting impatiently in the hall.

  “This way.” He sets off back toward the Viking room.

  We travel down a few hallways and finally come to a dead end. Tara’s there and she nods as we approach, pulling down what looks like a normal lighting fixture. Something clicks and a door appears in the wall, swinging inwardly with a creak.

  “Hidden doors,” I say. “Of course. Since we’re in a funhouse anyway.”

  He laughs. “Come on.” He takes my hand and we follow Tara into the room.

  I let him lead me down a set of roughhewn stone stairs. The modern hotel disappears behind us as we plunge into what I can only describe as a dungeon. The space is lit by torches, actual torches with actual fire, spaced out maybe every twenty yards. We keep going, descending down and down, turning corners, practically spiraling.

  Finally, the stairs end and the room opens out into a cave. I can hear water trickling ahead.

  “Fire it up,” Justin says to Tara, and she nods. I watch as she walks over to a nearby control panel set into a wall, presses a series of buttons, and the whole room comes alive.

  At first, the light dazzles me. We just traveled by torchlight, so it takes a second for my eyes to adjust. When I can see straight, I stand there, gaping.

  Pillars fill the room, intricately carved and painted. They depict battle scenes of some lost and ancient people. In the center of the room is a pool, circular and deep blue.

  I follow Justin toward the pool. “What is this?” I ask him.

  “It’s exactly what it looks like.” He releases my hand suddenly and takes off his shirt. I stare at his body, at the rippling muscles and his lean but hard lines. I have the sudden urge to press my palms against his chest, to feel his tough abs against my lips.

  “Come on,” he says. He pulls off his pants next, leaving himself in just a pair of boxer briefs.

  “What are you doing?” I blink, shocked. He’s in just his underwear, and it basically doesn’t hide anything. I can see the outline of his massive cock, straining the thin cotton. His thighs are beautifully sculpted and the V-lines leading down toward his cock send shivers down my spine.

  “Come on,” he repeats, turning his back to me, showing off more bulging muscle. He steps up to the edge of the round pool and dives in.

  I look around for Tara, but she’s gone. In her place are two towels and two robes hanging discreetly from the wall.

  Justin pops up and grins at me. “It’s amazing,” he says. “Geothermally warmed. Almost a perfect temperature. Take your clothes off and come on.”

  “No way,” I say.

  “Underwear and bathing suits are the same thing.”

  “That’s what every guy says when they want you to take off your clothes.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I do want you to strip, but that’s not really my goal here.”

  I watch him swim backwards lazily. “I’m not wearing a bra,” I finally admit.

  He stops swimming. “Huh. Well, whatever. Come in. I won’t look.”

  I dip a toe into the water. “Maybe. It is pretty warm, I could just—”

  I don’t finish my sentence. He suddenly lunges at me, grabs my ankle, flies up from the water, and pulls me in by my waist.

  I topple into the water, landing on top of him. I sputter, kicking and pushing him away as he laughs.

  “There you go, problem solved,” he says.

  “You fucking asshole!” My clothes are soaked. My shirt, too big to begin with, balloons around me, a sodden mess.

  “It’s fine, don’t worry. We’ve got robes to walk back in.” He gestures back toward where they’re hanging on the wall.

  “Forget the robes. You can’t just pull me in like that, asshole.”

  “Too late.” He swims toward me, moving to my left.

  I sigh. “You’re such a prick.” I swim back toward the edge.

  “Come on. Isn’t it perfect in here?”

  I hesitate, hanging on to the side. He’s right, as much as I hate it. The pool is a perfect temperature, not too hot or too cold. It’s like they somehow figured out our exact body temperatures and set the pool for that.

  I kick my feet as Justin floats toward the center. I watch him, my anger slowly subsiding.

  It’s actually pretty pleasant. I hate to admit it, but it’s nice. He looks at me, a little wicked grin on his lips.

  “Told you,” he says.

  “Told me what?”

  “You’d like it.” He starts to drift back toward me.

  “I never said I liked it,” I grumble.

  “Come on. Look at this place. It’s like some kind of temple to a water god or something.”

  I look around. He’s right. There’s even something that looks like an altar toward the other end of the room with a single light shining down on it.

  “Where’d Tara go?” I ask him.

  “I told her to make sure we have total privacy,” he answers.

  “Why?”

  He shrugs, making litt
le waves. “We’re in our underwear, I figured you’d be more comfortable that way.”

  I nod a little. He’s right about that much, at least.

  I release off the edge of the pool and swim into the middle. Looking down, it feels like it never ends, like it’s water inside of a bottomless pit.

  “It’s only like twelve feet deep,” he says to me, “but I think the bottom is made of glass or something.”

  “Seriously?”

  He nods. “Yep. Go under and look. You won’t need goggles, the water’s fresh, and I’m pretty sure there’s no chlorine.”

  I dive down. Normally I wouldn’t open my eyes, but this time I go for it. Everything’s a little blurry, but Justin was right, my eyes don’t sting at all like they would in a chlorinated pool.

  I swim downward and am surprised by my own reflection swimming toward me. I get to the bottom, the pressure just starting to push against my ears, my breath starting to run out, and I kick up to the surface.

  I break the water. “You’re right,” I say. “This is amazing.”

  “See?” That smile again. I almost hate it. “Gorgeous.”

  We swim together lazily, floating in the middle of the pool. “How much do you think this all cost?” I ask him.

  “Millions,” he says. “Honestly, I don’t know how she affords it. Spine does really well, but not this well.”

  “What do you know about her? You know, before Spine.”

  “Not much,” he admits. “I did some research but there’s really nothing out there. She says she’s from Chicago and lived with her uncle for a while, but that’s pretty much it.”

  I nod once, unsurprised about the Chicago bit. “I was thinking. This compound, it’s Spire, but it’s also Blair. I mean, this is like her world inside the game, but made into a real place.”

  “So each of these weird rooms has significance to her.”

  “I think it all does,” I say. “Every little detail.”

  “Hm.” He splashes toward me. “What does this room mean?”

  I look around, at the murals on the pillars, at the altar, at the breathtaking tilework. “No freaking clue.”

  He laughs. “Maybe she’s some kind of pagan priestess in her spare time.”