Kissing the Boss

by Linda Kage

  Lana didn’t seem to care. She tipped up her nose and waved out an unconcerned hand. “What a stupid notion to have an office party, anyway. For God’s sake, why do you think we need to bolster morale? These people should be grateful I gave them a job in the first place and don’t fire them all for flagrant disrespect of their CEO.”

  Eyes widened and mouths snapped shut all around the room.

  “I mean, honestly, who here wants to lose their job?” When she glanced around and found no one lifting a hand, she turned back to Nash with raised eyebrows and a see-didn’t-I-call-it expression. “If it’s so important to you, why don’t you provide the funds for that nonsense from your own pocket?”

  “Oh, I will,” Nash assured her in a low voice, his anger tightly controlled. “You’re not ruining this for anyone.” Then he took in his employees’ reactions. I guess everyone really had been planning on attending, because a fair number in the conference room seemed horrified about the prospect of no party. Or maybe they were all just scared, thinking they were about to be fired by Lana.

  “Don’t worry,” he assured. “The party is still taking place.” He shot Lana a contemptuous glare. “With all the amenities. But you’ll have to excuse me for the rest of the meeting; I apparently have some phone calls to make.”

  His grand declaration and the passion behind it made me decide I would attend the Halloween party after all, if for no other reason than to show my support and assure Nash we did appreciate how much he went to bat for us. He was exactly the kind of boss I wanted to be myself someday.

  Nash strode from the office, his personal assistant, Winston, hurrying after him. The air fluttered across my cheeks when he passed my chair, stirring up a pleasantly masculine scent from somewhere. I wasn’t sure if it came from him, Christopher Elton to one side of me, or Brick on the other, but it made me breathe it in deeper because it was so nice. Kind of heady, actually, like I could get drunk and giddy off the magical aroma alone.

  “Well, if he’s not going to stick around,” Lana barked, “then I’ve certainly lost my appetite for this so-called meeting.” And she traipsed from the room as well, with Shyla scrambling to follow.

  So, I guess the meeting was over. Some people stood to leave, some turned to their neighbors to gossip, and Christopher Elton swiveled his chair around to address me.

  Jarring to a halt to listen to whatever he had to say, I held my breath and focused on nothing but him.

  “Don’t worry,” he assured, reaching out to grip my bicep kindly. Ooh, he touched me! Christopher Elton was touching me. This was so amazing. “White vinegar will get that stain out, no problem.”

  Stain? I blinked, totally lost. What stain?

  Again, his gaze dropped to my chest. I looked down, only to remember—oh yeah—Lana had spilled her tea on me.

  Lovely.

  So I died right there in that spot, only a skeletal shell full of mortification with a tea-stained white blouse remaining.

  Christopher smiled encouragingly, patted my arm once more, and then stood to leave.

  I blinked, hot with embarrassment and disappointment.

  I don’t know why I was so disheartened to learn he hadn’t been ogling my breasts after all. I should’ve been grateful he wasn’t a male-chauvinist fiend who only saw certain body parts when he looked at women. But sometimes, there were a few select men you actually wanted to notice your girly parts. And he’d been one of them.

  I turned toward Brick, to—

  I have no idea what, maybe to commiserate the epic failure of my first encounter with Christopher Elton. But he was—Brick!

  The idiot was totally belying his earlier claim to stay away from women and was very clearly flirting with Adelyn from the Belts department. He was even playing with the pink tips of her long, blonde hair as he grinned and said who-knew-what in her ear. Adelyn worked alongside Sabella, and according to the hot gossip at the water coolers, they were mortal enemies.

  Glancing around until I spotted Sabella, I wasn’t at all surprised to find her glaring daggers at my stepbrother and his current conquest.

  Rolling my eyes, since this wasn’t exactly an unprecedented event, I left the conference room to make my way back toward my workroom. But no sooner did I enter Shyla’s area to get to the basement than Lana pounced.

  “Were you at that meeting?”

  “What?” I swear, she’d been loitering around Shyla’s desk, just waiting for me.

  “I thought I told you to make me a fresh pot of tea!” she shrieked, sounding utterly unhinged.

  I slowly closed the door behind me to muffle her rage from everyone else in the building.

  “The first pot I made you was perfectly acceptable,” I said calmly. Shyla had begged me to keep my patience, so I wasn’t going to lose my temper. “Besides, I was busy making new copies and stapling the market reports you ruined. There was no time to—”

  “I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses.” Lana pressed the tips of three fingers to the center of her forehead as if she had a headache. Then she closed her eyes and hissed out a pained breath. “I needed that tea.”

  Sympathy flickered inside me. I knew she had her problems, more problems than most. No one was perfect, and Lana would never be my favorite person. But her pissy demeanor suddenly didn’t seem so big and awful when she showed her vulnerabilities like this. She just needed some help and an attitude adjustment. And apparently tea to calm herself.

  “I’ll go make you another—” I started, wanting to ease her misery, because I couldn’t handle seeing anyone in pain, even sharks.

  But she growled, “Don’t bother,” and then she ripped her hand from her face to glare. “You already decided going to that meeting—which I expressly forbade you to attend—was more important than the duty I actually gave you. If you can’t follow one simple rule, then I don’t see how you’ll ever make full-time employment, in which case, why am I still bothering with you? Turn around, right now, return to your workspace, and clear out your desk. Then go home and don’t ever come back. You’re fired.”

  I blinked. Wait, what?

  Shyla, who’d been hovering, anxiously surged forward. “What?”

  Lana glanced impatiently toward her personal assistant. “I tried to honor Arthur’s memory and take his child under my wing. I really, honestly tried. But I can’t keep accepting this kind of insubordination. She’ll never listen to me.” Turning away, she called over her shoulder, “I’m done looking at her. Make sure she’s out of the building by the end of the hour, or you’re fired too.”

  With that, she marched into her office and slammed the door behind her. I gaped at the closed entrance, blinking as a numbing shock of confusion settled over me. Then I turned to Shyla, who turned to me with a look of all the horror I’m sure I mirrored in my own expression. When tears filled her eyes, tremors took control of my limbs.

  But seriously, what had just happened?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Shock.

  Loss.

  Disbelief.

  It all roiled through me in dizzying waves. I tried to process what had happened. But it was impossible. My dream had been shattered. Not only could I never try to work my way to the top of my father’s company, but now I couldn’t even work there, period.

  By Saturday evening, I was a complete wreck. I wavered between wanting to storm JFI to tell Lana I didn’t need her—I’d go somewhere else and show her how successful I could be on my own—and wanting to beg for another chance, because oh my God, I couldn’t lose my dream of staying with my parents’ legacy.

  In reality, I sat on my sofa in my pajamas and moped as I tried to find a true, paying job on the internet. Nothing looked promising in the corporate world but there were plenty of food service or cleaning opportunities. I sighed and set my laptop on the coffee table in front of me while I scrubbed my tired face, only to wince at the smell that wafted up. As I tried to remember if it’d been three or four days since I’d last showered, a knock fel
l on my door.

  I frowned at the door, wondering who it could be, as another knock sounded, followed by the muffled voice of my stepbrother.

  “Kait? Hey, hurry up and let me in.”

  Brick? What was he doing here? I scrambled from the couch. Running my hand over my hair, I cringed when my fingers met with greasy slickness. And, oh dear, there was no way to hide the spaghetti sauce stain on my flannel pajama pants.

  Ugh. I guess stains were my new fashion motif. Christopher Elton would probably tell me white vinegar could clean this too.

  I wondered if white vinegar would remove Lana from my life.

  When I pulled the door open, Brick blew inside, right past me, already complaining. “I just realized when I stepped inside your building that I’ve never actually visited you at your apartment before, and holy shit.” He gave a full-body shiver. “This place is a dump. How can you handle…?” His words died as he focused on my face. Then his incredulous gaze dropped to my clothes. “What the hell are you wearing?”

  Crossing my arms moodily—and maybe also self-consciously—over my chest, I mumbled, “Pajamas.”

  He blinked. Then blinked some more. That’s when I noticed what he was wearing, along with the black garment bag draped over his right arm. He looked like freaking Prince Charming with a white polyester suit jacket, gold buttons, a gold cord hanging from one shoulder to the next where gold tassels dangled, and a gold belt cinched his waist to match the gold stripes racing up the outsides of his red pants.

  I blinked, sure I was seeing things.

  “You’re not ready,” he finally stated, as if suffering from his own shock. “Why aren’t you ready? I told you I’d pick you up at a quarter to eight and I’m ten minutes late.”

  My mouth fell open. “Huh?” I said dumbly before running my hand over my hair, and wincing again from the grossness of it. Then realization finally settled in my brain, and I gasped. “Oh! The Halloween party! Ohmigod. I’m so sorry. I totally forgot about that.”

  I wasn’t exactly the forgetful type, so Brick squinted his eyes as if suddenly suspicious. “You forgot…?” Then he shook his head, trying a new approach as he waved a hand. “You know what? I’d probably forget all about office parties too if I found myself living in this kind of squalor. Seriously, Kaitlynn. Is this why you’ve never invited me over before? So I couldn’t see how you suffered?”

  “I… What? No!”

  Shaking my head, absolutely confused, I just gaped at him.

  All this time, I thought he hadn’t stopped by before because he just wasn’t interested. It was startling to realize I had never actually invited him. To me, he’d always been welcome, no invitation needed. Except, I guess, he hadn’t known that.

  And… Now, I felt like a crappy sister.

  But when I opened my mouth to apologize, he was already off again, demanding, “How much does my mother pay you if you’re forced to live in a place like this? You do know how to manage your money, right? You don’t give it all away to the poor, do you?”

  With a painful swallow, I just stared at him. I didn’t realize he hadn’t been aware I was an unpaid intern, and wow, I suppose the gossip of my dismissal hadn’t gotten around yet, either.

  “I don’t…” I shook my head and bit my lip, dealing with one answer at a time. “Well, she never paid me. Didn’t you know? I agreed to work for her for free until I proved my worth enough to make full-time employee status.”

  “You agreed…” he started slowly, only to drop his jaw in shock. “You agreed to work for Lana Judge for free? Are you completely insane? You’ve actually met my mother, right? She’ll never pay you now that you agreed to those idiotic terms. And what the hell…?” He spun in a circle, taking in my living room. “How are you surviving on no income? I thought the trust fund your dad left you only paid for college and then like a measly thousand each month until you’re thirty.”

  I nodded enthusiastically. “That’s exactly right. I get by fine with that.”

  “You…” Again, his voice fell short, a loss for words. Then he once again exploded. “Are you trying to tell me Arthur Fucking K. Judge’s daughter has been living below the poverty level since she was, what…?”

  “Twenty,” I nearly whispered. I’d been twenty when Dad had died. It still stung to think about, and my guts twisted with misery. But I had enough energy to say, “You know, the poverty level for a single person household is actually below twelve thousand per year, so I’ve been keeping above…” But I couldn’t even successfully argue against that, because yeah, I was broke, there was no way to deny it.

  But now that I no longer worked for Lana or JFI, I guess I could find a job that paid enough to get me into a better apartment, though strangely, this place had kind of grown on me. I’m not really sure I would move if I could.

  Brick sniffed bitterly and shook his head. “Un-freaking-believable. You’ve been living like this and never once came to me?”

  I pulled back, startled by the venom—and even hurt—in his tone. Shaking my head in confusion, I sputtered, “I… Well, I didn’t want to bother you.” And honestly, I hadn’t thought he’d really care.

  “Bother me?” He lifted a single censorious eyebrow. “I’m your brother and probably the only fucking family you have left who gives a shit about you. Who else would you consider going to?”

  “I…” I shrugged, feeling lame. “I didn’t think I had to go to anyone. I’m doing just fine. I don’t exactly need help.” Honestly, I’d been proud of how self-reliant I’d become.

  Brick, however, wasn’t so afflicted. And he certainly seemed to be on a roll with repeating me tonight because he sneered, “Just fine?” as he glanced around my apartment before settling his gaze on me and shaking his head, clearly disappointed. “Jesus, Kaitlynn. You’re a real piece of work, you know that? You can be so selfless and giving with everyone else, but it’s like some kind of crime for you to ever ask for help in return.”

  “But I don’t need—”

  He cut me off by pointing and snarling, “Don’t.” After taking a deep, calming breath, he exhaled through gritted teeth, rolled his shoulders and sent me a pointed glare. “We’ll figure this out later. For now, just… Go change into your costume.” He flung the garment bag into my arms. “We have a party to attend.”

  I cringed at the dark bag, wondering what kind of awful, skin-revealing costume must be inside. “I really don’t feel like going.”

  He gave me no sympathy. “Too bad.” His stony voice held no room for argument. “I’m not leaving you alone in this dump. Now put on your damn gown and get ready for the damn ball, princess.” Then he clapped his hands, stressing my need to hurry. “Chop, chop. Your fairy godbrother has spoken.”

  “Brick,” I started, an exhausted sigh in my voice. Halloween and parties were the last things on my mind right now.

  He shook his head, eyes beseeching. “Don’t flake out on me, Kaity. Not tonight.” Then he pulled out the big guns and said, “Please.”

  I groaned and flung my head back. “Okay, fine. But I’m taking a quick shower first.”

  “Yes.” He nodded encouragingly. “Please do.”

  Sending him a scowl for so easily talking me into this and letting me know I really did stink, I turned away and stormed down the hall. I knew why I’d given in, though. Brick had been right; he was the only family I had left that seemed to like me. He had no idea how much that meant. And because of it, I’d probably drag myself with him to every party he wanted me to attend.

  I didn’t realize he’d followed me down the hall until he started talking to me through the door of my bathroom about two seconds after I shut it.

  “So did you notice the present I left for you at work?”

  I jumped, in the middle of slipping off my pajama top, then shook my head with an amused smile. He’d never been able to handle being alone, even when he was young, which was probably why he’d actually talked to me when our parents were married. Too many times I’d been th
e only person around to keep him company.

  “What present?”

  “The sticky trap,” he prompted, which made me frown in confusion. “Jeez, kid, you really didn’t notice, did you? I replaced your old archaic mousetrap for a new, improved glue board.”

  My eyes bulged. “You did what?”

  My heart began to pound. Jacqueline. I’d completely forgotten about her. What if she’d starved to death after I left, or worse, gotten caught in Brick’s new trap?

  My stepbrother chuckled on the other side of the door. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re welcome,” he sang, imitating Maui’s song from Moana, as if trying to get me to thank him, but the gratitude stuck in my throat. He might’ve just killed my quasi-pet. How could I thank him for that?

  “Uh, you… You didn’t have to do that.” I cringed as I spoke, hoping I sounded as if I were grateful for what he’d done.

  He cheerfully answered, “It was nothing. I wanted to.”

  Suddenly needing to make it to that party so I could rescue my tiny friend, I stepped into my shower and turned on the water, drowning out whatever Brick was saying. For the next few minutes, I concentrated on washing and devising a plan to break into my old workroom so I could remove all traces of mousetraps.

  I’m coming for you, Jackie, don’t you worry.

  I barely had the water off before Brick started talking to me again through the doorway and then pounding on it with his fist. “Um, Kaitlynn? Why are you looking for a new job?”

  I froze, before quickly drying and pulling on underwear. “What?”

  “I said—you know what? You heard me just fine. Now quit stalling and answer.”

  I opened my mouth, still not sure what to say, but Brick growled, “Yeah, never mind. You don’t have to answer. Mom fired you.” A disgusted sigh hissed from him. “Didn’t she?”

  Instead of answering, I clenched my teeth and yanked my costume from its garment bag. “Were you snooping on my laptop?”

  “I was bored.” And, yes, the man said it as if that justified why he did anything.