Page 105 of Hard For My Boss


Font Size:  

Hopefully that doesn’t end up with an orgy of interns on a beach.

“Be good, Lance,” I tell my dog an hour later, giving him a rub behind his ears as he looks up at me tiredly, before grabbing my briefcase and heading out, determined.

41

Trevor is sorta crapping himself.

I guess I’ve felt this amount of loneliness before.

It feels like back in high school gym class when we played Dodgeball and I would stand in the back picking at my fingers pondering the day’s choice of cafeteria lunch and whether the chili con carne really was made of mystery meat.

Here I am in front of a computer staring at the photograph.

And the mystery meat in it.

“Who do you think it is?” asks Ashlee, appearing at my side.

I jump, not having heard her approaching. I have, needless to say, been jumpy all morning. “I’m … not sure.”

“I think it’s a ten-dollar-an-hour Mexican prostitute,” Ashlee decides. “And that is one very, very lucky prostitute. I’m picturing a sort of Pretty Woman scenario where they fall in love, he leaves the money, the prostitute doesn’t take it, comes to America and tries to update his wardrobe … ‘Big mistake. Huge.’ I could picture it.” She giggles after that, then stares off, picturing it.

I find my skin turning to ice at once. “That’s our boss you’re talking out.”

Ashlee turns back to me, her eyes glazed over. “Oh. I … I didn’t mean to—”

“And we need to handle this situation very seriously,” I go on, apparently deciding to take the righteous high road, like I have any right to be on it. “For Mr. Gage’s sake, and the company’s.”

Ashlee gives me one sad nod, then glances back at the screen, her eyes all over the picture. “You’re right,” she finally concedes. “I shouldn’t perpetuate all the stupid jokes everyone’s making in the office. We’re above that, you and I. We can see the seriousness in situations like this.”

I feel bad instantly. “I’m sorry for snapping, Ashlee. I just—”

“No, no. You didn’t snap.” She gives me a wink and nudges me. “You’re not like the others, Trevor. I can see why Elijah thinks so highly of you.”

Dear God, is today Make Trevor Feel Like A Guilty Piece Of Shit Day?

“Speaking of whom,” she goes on, leaning in closer to me and bringing down her voice, “is Elijah okay? He’s been really off all morning.”

“He’s just got some … personal things … he’s dealing with.”

“Hmm. Okay. I can handle that.” She smiles at me. “Do you think he’s into me? Like, even just a little bit?” Before I can even respond, she sputters on. “I mean, like, I’m not trying to be that girl, the one who zeroes in on the office cutie and starts blushing, acting flustered, and stops wearing any underwear. I’m wearing underwear, by the way,” she adds in a whisper.

“Office cutie?” I lift an eyebrow at her. “Of all the guys here, you think Elijah’s the office cutie?”

“Oh, by far. He’s real. And he’s sweet … funny … charming in a totally dorky way.” Quite suddenly, she’s blushing and flustered. “Anyway. Please don’t tell him I said all of this. He’s also a totally cocky bastard. Hey, maybe we should all go out for drinks at the end of the week. Elijah’s birthday is in a couple days, right?”

I drum my fingers along the edge of the desk, then face her. “Maybe just the two of you should go.”

Her eyes flash. “J-Just the two of us? … What do you mean? Why? What are you saying?”

“I’m saying maybe he likes you, too.”

Ashlee squints suspiciously at me, then prepares to respond, but is quickly interrupted by another intern rushing up to her to ask a question, and then the two of them are off. Ashlee looks over her shoulder to throw me a smile, then disappears around the corner. I return my attention to the image in front of me and the article whose comment section I’ve been tasked to babysit.

There is nothing more meta than helping minimize a scandal you’re right in the middle of among a team of people who don’t realize they’ve been staring at your naked ass all day.

The picture could not be more focused on Benjamin if my whole body was blotted out by a Photoshop eraser. The lighting from the fire is pretty bad, making shadows look like shapes, and licks of white and red look like faces that aren’t really there. I’m a skinny blur of fleshy vagueness with my head turned away, and Benjamin is completely in view, covering me like a protective animal. It’s almost telling, the way he’s shielding me from the cold air I remember so vividly from that beautiful night.

All that beauty is wiped away in an instant when twice more I pass Elijah in the office, and twice more he ignores me. Did Elijah really recognize me from the pic, or was that glare he gave me just about his ire from before? I’d like to say I’m flattered he can point me out so well in a crowd. I mean, it isn’t often one can say they have a best friend capable of recognizing them by their elbows.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like