Free Taking Her Boss by Alegra Verde Page B
Authors: Alegra Verde
the menu. I respected Bruce Davies. The little girl in me wanted to cover her ears and click her heels.
“And you’re quite capable,” he went on.
Of what, I wanted to ask.
“I like a capable woman,” he said.
My eyebrows did their thing. Two years, I was thinking, two years of prepping, planning and hard work. I thought that I could make a home here, that I could grow. I sat up and scooted to the edge of the chair preparing to leave. I’m good at my job; I do not have to fuck the boss or anyone else to keep a job.
He tensed. “Wait,” he said, holding a hand out as if he could hold me in place with the gesture.
“Glory, I’m not making any demands on you. We can continue on as we have been. It’s just that when I saw you with Rodriquez…”
“You figured I was fair game,” I finished for him.
“No,” he said, and looked directly at me, as if he wanted me to see the truth, “I realized how much I wanted you.”
The baldness of his statement stopped me for a moment.
“Do you have someone special?” he asked.
I shook my head. It was difficult to look at him because his eyes were searing into me.
“Me neither,” he said. “Since the divorce, there has been no one I can trust. And without trust, I’d rather go without.”
I looked at him now, trying to understand.
“I like to be told what to do,” he said simply.
I nodded as though I understood, but I didn’t really, not entirely. I was seeing another side of this man, a side that he rarely shared with others. He sat there in his dark immaculately tailored suit, the tie a little loose, but still in place. His hair was thinning slightly, but his close cut made no excuses and gave the impression that he was solid, reliable. The cut was flatteringbecause its sparseness gave full reign to his sharp cheekbones and gray eyes. At forty something to my twenty-seven, he could have been…well at least an uncle, but there was still a draw there. I could feel the pull. He was telling me that he needed me, but he didn’t move. He sat and waited silently for me to issue a verdict.
“I’ll think about it,” I said finally.
He nodded, his finger rubbing his lower lip as he studied me.
I stood up.
“Glory,” he said my name softly, “only if you want to. No strings.”
“See you tomorrow,” I said as I made my way back through the door to my office.
After a few days, everything went back to normal, more or less. Alex signed with us. He called a couple of times and I went out with him, usually to dinner with dessert in his hotel room, but I was glad when he went home. Nice guy, but I knew he had a girlfriend back home in Madison, Wisconsin, and I wasn’t interested in taking her place. Mr. Davies was the same. He didn’t look at me strangely and he didn’t slack up on the work. He had a smile for me when I greeted him in the morning, and treated me with the usual courtesy when we lunched with a client or if we were having a bite alone in his office while discussing a campaign. That’s why I was so surprised when one evening about three weeks later, I turned to see him standing in the doorway that connected our offices. For one, he never used that entrance, and for another, he looked uncertain, almost pained.
“Did you think about it, Glory?” he asked.
I wanted to say, “What?” A part of me wanted to pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about, because things had been going along so nicely.
“Yes,” I said because he wanted me to, and I had been thinking about it. I had been thinking more about what he might want. I got that he wanted me to make demands, to tell him what to do , but I was afraid of how far it could go. However, if I were being truthful with myself, I’d have to admit the prospect was both frightening and alluring.
“What would you do?” I asked.
“Anything,” he said. His voice was a whisper, confiding.
“What are your limits?” I needed more information.
He thought a moment. “I won’t
“And you’re quite capable,” he went on.
Of what, I wanted to ask.
“I like a capable woman,” he said.
My eyebrows did their thing. Two years, I was thinking, two years of prepping, planning and hard work. I thought that I could make a home here, that I could grow. I sat up and scooted to the edge of the chair preparing to leave. I’m good at my job; I do not have to fuck the boss or anyone else to keep a job.
He tensed. “Wait,” he said, holding a hand out as if he could hold me in place with the gesture.
“Glory, I’m not making any demands on you. We can continue on as we have been. It’s just that when I saw you with Rodriquez…”
“You figured I was fair game,” I finished for him.
“No,” he said, and looked directly at me, as if he wanted me to see the truth, “I realized how much I wanted you.”
The baldness of his statement stopped me for a moment.
“Do you have someone special?” he asked.
I shook my head. It was difficult to look at him because his eyes were searing into me.
“Me neither,” he said. “Since the divorce, there has been no one I can trust. And without trust, I’d rather go without.”
I looked at him now, trying to understand.
“I like to be told what to do,” he said simply.
I nodded as though I understood, but I didn’t really, not entirely. I was seeing another side of this man, a side that he rarely shared with others. He sat there in his dark immaculately tailored suit, the tie a little loose, but still in place. His hair was thinning slightly, but his close cut made no excuses and gave the impression that he was solid, reliable. The cut was flatteringbecause its sparseness gave full reign to his sharp cheekbones and gray eyes. At forty something to my twenty-seven, he could have been…well at least an uncle, but there was still a draw there. I could feel the pull. He was telling me that he needed me, but he didn’t move. He sat and waited silently for me to issue a verdict.
“I’ll think about it,” I said finally.
He nodded, his finger rubbing his lower lip as he studied me.
I stood up.
“Glory,” he said my name softly, “only if you want to. No strings.”
“See you tomorrow,” I said as I made my way back through the door to my office.
After a few days, everything went back to normal, more or less. Alex signed with us. He called a couple of times and I went out with him, usually to dinner with dessert in his hotel room, but I was glad when he went home. Nice guy, but I knew he had a girlfriend back home in Madison, Wisconsin, and I wasn’t interested in taking her place. Mr. Davies was the same. He didn’t look at me strangely and he didn’t slack up on the work. He had a smile for me when I greeted him in the morning, and treated me with the usual courtesy when we lunched with a client or if we were having a bite alone in his office while discussing a campaign. That’s why I was so surprised when one evening about three weeks later, I turned to see him standing in the doorway that connected our offices. For one, he never used that entrance, and for another, he looked uncertain, almost pained.
“Did you think about it, Glory?” he asked.
I wanted to say, “What?” A part of me wanted to pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about, because things had been going along so nicely.
“Yes,” I said because he wanted me to, and I had been thinking about it. I had been thinking more about what he might want. I got that he wanted me to make demands, to tell him what to do , but I was afraid of how far it could go. However, if I were being truthful with myself, I’d have to admit the prospect was both frightening and alluring.
“What would you do?” I asked.
“Anything,” he said. His voice was a whisper, confiding.
“What are your limits?” I needed more information.
He thought a moment. “I won’t