Page 112 of Hard For My Boss


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It was even in my hair.

I cried, staring at myself in the mirror. I cried washing the crap off of me in the shower. Then I cried drying off and dressing.

Then I collapsed in my room and cried some more. After an hour or five, I’ve completely run out of tears. There’s not a single bit of moisture left in my face to squeeze out. Numb and struck silent by my own stupidity, I just stare across the dark room at the giant teddy bear whose glassy eyes catch the sliver of light coming from the hallway.

And I ponder my life.

It’s ruined. Everything is ruined. My career. My job. Whatever future I could have had.

But really, let’s not make this all about me. What about Ben? He’ll never live this down. He’ll be the man who fucks his interns, even if I was his first and only. If his little sexual hiccup in Mexico wasn’t bad enough, now he’ll be known as the man who really puts his interns through the rigorous ringer to achieve great heights. Yeah, achieving great heights by sinking to your knees and burying your sniffer in the boss’s bum.

“Trev. I’m coming in.”

Again, I don’t respond. Beep. Please leave a message at the tone.

Elijah slips quietly into the room, eclipsing the light from the hallway for a second. Mercifully, he shuts the door behind him, then stumbles in the dark over to my bed where he takes a seat, the springs beneath him squawking their disapproval like a family of metallic chickens.

“How are you holding up, buddy?”

I don’t respond or move. I even stopped hugging my knees to my chest an hour ago, too spent to bother with even that much effort. I’m just sitting on the squeaky bed, one leg hanging off, one splayed out before me, my back flat against the headboard and my hands resting limply in my lap.

He sighs. “Dumb question, I know.”

Elijah clicks his tongue, turning his face away. Though my eyes are adjusted to the dark, I can only barely see the silhouette of his messy hair when his head turns. The window doesn’t help much, offering little in the way of moonlight tonight.

“You know,” Elijah recalls, “I did tell you before the summer began that this job might require some ass kissing. I just didn’t think you’d interpret that so literally.”

“I’ve heard all the jokes,” I mumble, surprised by the grumbly sound of my voice, which I haven’t used once in the past several hours. “I made most of them up in my head already.”

“Some of the headlines are cute.”

I blink. “Headlines?”

Elijah turns toward me, but I can’t see his face. “Um … you do realize you’re exploding on the internet right now, don’t you? I’m pretty sure one of the YouTube videos had over forty thousand views in the first hour it was up.”

One of the YouTube videos. Just one.

You’d think I’d have a reaction to that. I don’t.

No reaction at all.

Just like the teddy bear across the room.

“Listen, I really … really … don’t want to judge you,” Elijah starts, “but I have to ask. How the hell did you seduce Benjamin Gage? And when? The man is untouchable.”

There hasn’t been any sound in this room for so long, Elijah’s voice seems unnaturally loud, rattling my skull and filling up my ears. “On a Friday night,” I murmur drowsily.

“On a Friday night …?”

“The Friday night,” I amend. “You and me, loosening up. The nightclub. The one you took me to.”

Elijah sits with that information for a second. Then, he slowly turns to face me, and in the dark, I see his jaw drop. “No way. No … fucking … way. Benjamin Gage was the guy from that night??”

“The one and only.”

“The rich prick?? Mister Rich Prick?? Oh my God!” Elijah is off my bed in an instant, grabbing his hair. “All this time! Holy shit!” He spins around suddenly, facing me. “So why didn’t you tell me back then, Trevor? This could’ve been our secret!”

“I didn’t know at the time,” I tell him. “I thought he was just a sexy man from the club. I didn’t recognize him until that first Monday when he showed up at the office—”

“And you freaking fell at his feet like you were diving into home base.” Elijah slaps his own face. “Damn, that’s fucked up. Wait a second,” he exclaims suddenly, lifting a finger as he puts even more of the puzzle together. “Wait, wait, wait. Our boss … was bathroom boy, too?”

My words are deadpan, affectless, spent. “Yep.”

Elijah starts pacing the room. “This is big. This is really big. I knew it when I saw that beach photo. I just …” He stops by the bed and stares down at me, his voice changing. “I just didn’t think this was your style, Trevor.”

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