Page 482 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Knock it off!” I rolled over and grabbed my phone. “The only thing I want from James is a little peace and quiet. There’s like half a dozen texts from him about work stuff.”

Steph snorted. “Boundaries much?”

“More like ‘burning the candle at both ends much.’ He works even longer hours than I do.” I scrolled through my messages, frowning. “Uh-oh, there’s also three more texts from the Bridge Troll.”

“What’s his deal?” she asked.

“The latest one says, ‘Nat, we need to talk about the assignment you turned in. Meet me at Corrigan’s. We can have drinks and see where it leads.’ Then he put a winking emoji. Gross.”

Steph made a gagging face. “Isn’t that against the rules or something? Can’t he get in trouble since he’s your instructor?”

I shook my head. “Everyone’s just so thrilled that someone so high-profile agreed to teach the class. He’s basically untouchable.”

“You need to put a stop to it somehow. It’s only going to keep escalating. He clearly doesn’t know how to take a hint.”

“What can I possibly say? I don’t want to piss him off and have him fail me.” I sat up.

Steph drummed on her knees with her lips pursed, and I started to worry because I knew she was cooking up something dangerous.

“Why don’t you invent a boyfriend?” she asked. “No, hold on, I’ve got a better idea! Pretend James is your boyfriend!”

I laughed at the thought of it. “He is pretty intimidating.”

She poked my side. “Do it! Text the Bridge Troll back and tell him you just got home from dinner with James, and now it’s time for some sexy times. Say you’ll be away from your phone for hours because he’s such an incredible lover.”

“Seriously? That’s a little creepy to talk about that kind of stuff with him.”

“He’s creepy! You need to meet him on his level. Come on—nothing else is going to get through to him.”

“I guess…” I said, still a little reluctant. “But I wouldn’t even know what to say. My idea of dirty talk comes straight from a romance novel, and that’s not the kind of tone I want to be taking with him.”

Steph’s face lit up in a smile that long experience had taught me to beware. “Hand it over,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

Just because I knew that I should beware didn’t mean I actually would. I was extremely bad at saying no to Steph. Hence all of our workouts. “Okay, okay.” I handed her my phone. “But try to keep it at least a little discreet, okay?”

“I’ll be the soul of discretion,” she promised. “How about this?” she said, reading out the text as she typed it. “‘Sorry, not possible. My boyfriend James and I are getting ready for some fun,’ then a lips emoji and an eggplant emoji.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Gotta use those emojis since that’s his love language.”

My phone dinged almost immediately, and Steph made a face as she read out his response. “Ewww. He asked what James has that he doesn’t. This is where we need to sell it. Time to double down,” Steph stated eagerly, clearly enjoying her role as my ghostwriter. “Describe how absolutely smoking hot James is, and how much you love his massive dick.”

I fell over backwards, laughing.

My phone dinged again. “Speak of the devil, it’s James wanting to know where the TPS reports are filed on the server,” Steph relayed. “But I think we should respond to the Bridge Troll first.” Steph’s eyes lit up with glee as she typed rapidly on my phone. “‘My boyfriend James is hot enough to be a model, with blue eyes and an eight-pack. And his dick is perfect. It’s so thick I can barely get the whole thing in my mouth. He loves it when I deep throat all eight inches of him.’”

“Oh my God!” I shrieked, covering my face in embarrassment. “I can’t tell my teacher that! Delete it, right now!”

“Too late—already sent,” she said breezily. “But come on, it’s for the best. If you don’t get through to him that you’re really not interested, he’ll keep at it.” She wagged her finger at me.

“Ugh, fine,” I said and stood up with a groan, clutching my thighs. “You’re evil, you know. Those squats killed me. I’m going to be in so much pain tomorrow.”

“You’ll thank me during bathing suit season, trust me.” Steph laughed as she headed for the kitchen.

My phone started ringing and when I looked at the screen, I noticed it was James. “Huh, James must really want those reports, he’s calling me.” I answered and tried to ignore the fact that his dick had just been the topic of conversation. “Hey, what’s up?”

“You tell me,” he said tersely.

My anger flared immediately at his tone. James didn’t own me. I had a right to spend my evenings how I wanted.