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The room begins to fill with people for our morning meeting, leaving me stuck in this state of embarrassment and attraction. Mr. Reeves is not only my boss, he's also the sexiest damn boss I've ever had.
And now he's seen my chest. He's seen me half naked!
My cheeks are red, and my heart is beating a mile a minute. I can feel the heat of embarrassment as it spreads from my face to my neck and down over my chest. I can't believe this is happening.
I wish I could explain myself. I wish I had turned around. I wish I had just been on time today. I wish a lot of things happened differently today, then none of this would be happening right now.
The voices around me become too loud to ignore as everyone comes in and gets settled. I quickly move my pile of coffee-stained clothes to the floor and take my seat. Hopefully if I can catch a break at all today, Mr. Reeves will never mention this ever happened. If anything can go my way, I just want him to chalk this up as an odd morning and pay it no more attention than that.
It could happen. It could absolutely happen, I think to myself as I sink lower into my seat. My stomach clenches with worry about how this mishap could end. In all reality, the possibility he might fire me over this is front and center.
That's what I don't want to happen. I don't want to get fired over this, and I don't want to get fired because of being late.
Calm down, Ronda. Don't worry about this right now, just focus on the meeting.
Worrying is just as bad as fear. I can feel the worry as it runs through my veins, making my chest tight and my tongue swell. I'm shrinking in my chair, wishing I could vanish into thin air.
I just flashed my boss. . . What the hell was I thinking?
2
Ronda
He's staring at me. . . Why is he staring at me like that?
I swallow the lump in my throat as I let my eyes briefly skirt over his to the giant windows on the wall to my left. I look out at the skyline, trying so hard to ignore his glare. But I can feel him. I can feel his eyes on my skin. I can feel their weight on me like a heavy blanket.
With every ounce of strength I have, I keep my eyes focused out the window. Watching the clouds, watching the sun as it lights up the tops of buildings. Watching small flocks of birds as they dip and turn through the sky. But no matter how much I try, none of it can distract me from the feeling of Mr. Reeves and his bright blue eyes fixed on me.
His eyes sizzle like hot coal, making my skin burn, and my heart race. I'm afraid to move, afraid to even try and look in his direction for fear I'll get sucked into his gaze like matter into a black hole. But I can't help myself. Like a magnet to metal, I look anyway. My eyes dance around the room, briefly connecting with his.
His lids lower and a single brow twitches. I drop my eyes to my hands. I can't look at him too long without feeling like I want to throw up. What is that look he's giving me? Is it disgust? Maybe he's debating how and when to fire me?
I mean, why should he let me stay? I was half naked in this room. In his office. I was half naked at work, and my boss walked in on me. That's grounds for termination, period.
I don't want to lose this job. I came here to get away and find a new life. I made a leap. I'm here. Starting over again is the last thing I want to do.
Can you blame him if he does?
He's the boss, this is his business. If you do something wrong, it's his job to fire you. I fucked up. I can't blame anyone else for my mistake. If he decides to let me go, I'll have no choice but to find a new job.
I suck in a deep breath and shake the idea out of my head. No, it's fine. I'm sure he knows it was a mistake.
It's not like I screwed up something serious. I didn't lose the company any money or steal from his pocket. It's one little error. He won't fire me over one little thing.
But what if he does?
The thought makes my chest ache and my stomach twist into knots. I haven't been here long enough to hold any real leverage. My performance is still in the probationary period. There's nothing securing my spot at Reeves and Company.
I'm mindlessly listening to another employee as they rattle off new ideas and polling numbers from the magazine's major demographics. Their voice is all muffled like there's water in my ears.
