Bossy (15 page)

She opens her mouth and then closes it, thinking. Finally she shakes her head. “You know what? I thought maybe I could do this, but it turns out I can’t. If you want to pretend that I’m just some
convenient perk
then go right ahead. I’m not going to stick around while you figure out you’re full of shit.”

“Where the hell did that come from? We fucked. That’s it. We’ve done it before, and we’ll do it again. Don’t make this anything more than it is.”

As far as I’m concerned, we both know the score. We work together, our parents are getting married, and while we have a good time, half the time we end up angry at each other. Even if I was going to suddenly turn into the relationship type, this wouldn’t be the one I’d bet on.

In some ways I wish it was, but it’s not.

Claire’s face goes white with anger, her eyes flashing. “We’ll do it again alright. But not with each other. Have a nice day, Declan. Thanks for the wakeup call. For a second there I almost thought you were human.” She gives her clothes one last check, and walks out.

The click of the door might as well have been a slam.

I feel like I did something wrong, but I don’t know what I could go back and change, aside from never laying eyes on her in the first place. But fine, if she wants to act like she’s so high and mighty and wasn’t just right there with me begging for my cock, I’ll let her pretend.

It’ll make it all the sweeter the next time.

I
don’t know who I’m more annoyed at, Declan, or myself.

That first night I had an excuse. I was on the rebound. He was super hot. The math was easy. But even knowing what an ass he is, I went back for more. And he’s still super hot.

It was amazing. Again.

Except I’m nobody’s dirty little office secret, and I sure as hell won’t be anybody’s on-the-job
perk.
I need to start thinking of him as an addiction. Recognize and accept that my judgment is totally whacked around him, and move on as quickly as possible before I go in for my next fix.

Maybe I need some rules too.

Rule number one: Stop sleeping with my stepbrother.

Rule number two: Re-read rule number one every morning.

My phone rings, and like the idiot I am, I take it without checking who it is. “Hello?”

“Claire. It’s me.”

Rule number three: Block my ex-boyfriend’s contact in my phone.

Okay, that isn’t so much a rule as it is something I should’ve done ages ago, but maybe it would be a good basic rule of thumb going forward for all ex-boyfriends, so I’ll leave it.

“I told you to stop calling me. That night at your parents’ was the last time.” I groan in frustration. Was Michael always this dense? “Don’t make me take out a restraining order.”

He laughs softly, and there’s a sliver of menace in the sound that raises the hair on my arms. “I wouldn’t do that.”

What kind of creepy movie line bullshit is this? “No? Tell me one good reason why not?”

“I’ve been watching a movie a lot lately. It’s a really good movie. The star is fucking gorgeous.”

“So what? I don’t see what this has to do with me.” I should just hang up on him.

“You’ve always been too modest. Don’t you remember your big debut?”

“Remember what? I don’t remember any—” I go silent, because suddenly I do, and it’s bad. Like really bad. “You promised to delete that right afterwards.” I feel sick to my stomach.

“You’re so beautiful. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” He laughs again, and this time I know why it sounds so mean. “You know what? It’s really embarrassing, but I’ve jerked off to that movie a whole bunch of times. What’s not to love? Your beautiful face, your wet mouth. God, that clip’s so fucking hot.”

Oh Claire, come on. If you love me, you’ll do it. I love you. I’ll never let anyone see this.

I’d never been comfortable with what he’d asked me to do. Not once. Now I know why. I’d been so stupid. So naïve. I’d thought I was in love. With a deep sigh, I ask the inevitable question. “What do you want?”

“I want you back.” So simple and yet so impossible.

There’s no way, and him making this call just confirms why. “I can’t. It’s too late. You know that.”

“It’s
not
too late.” His voice gets agitated. Angry. “You can come back, and we’ll be happy again. Living together like before. Why is it too late?”

“Michael.” I don’t even know where to start. If he can’t even see the problem, how do I make him? “You cheated on me. In our own bed, even. I can’t trust you anymore. Not to mention you’re
trying to blackmail me into loving you.
”

For a long moment he’s silent. Did he hang up? No, his breathing’s still there. Finally, he speaks. “It’s not my fault you drove me to this, and trust can be rebuilt. In fact, do you know one thing you can trust me one hundred percent on? That I will send this clip to anyone who might be interested if you don’t give me a chance. I hate doing this to you, but you’re not giving me a choice.”

He’s lost it. He’s finally gone off the deep end. “Can you hear yourself? If you try anything I’ll call the police.”

“No, you won’t.” The certainty in his voice is unnerving. “I’ll send this right to your new boss. How do you think stepdaddy dearest will feel about your little internship then? How about the Admissions Department at Stanford? Your mom. Your friends from college. We were together for a long time, Claire. I know all of them.” He pauses. “Your new stepbrother. I’ll make a special cut just for him. I bet he’ll love it as much as I do.”

“Don’t do this. You can’t make us work this way.”

“Just give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking. We’ll start off easy. Simple date, no big expectations. Try to rekindle what we had.”

The idea of spending a whole evening with him makes my skin crawl. It was bad enough before when I was just mad, but now he’s taken an all-out turn for the creepy. What do I do? It’s easy to threaten to call the cops, but I have no experience that covers this sort of thing, and I let him take the video.

The only thing I can think to do is appeal to his own self-preservation. “You’re all over that movie too. I’m sure you’d get tons of dude points for starring in homemade porn, but have you thought about your own career? If you spread it, I’ll make sure your name is right there with mine.”

“Please, you don’t think I’ve edited the clip? You can’t tell I’m in it and nobody cares about some random dick. It’s you they’ll be watching. I’ve even slapped on some titles and credits so it looks like you did it for an amateur site. You’ll look like a wannabe porn star.” He laughs softly. “I’ve thought of everything. Don’t make me use this. I really don’t want to. Seriously.”

I take a moment to come to terms with dying my hair, changing my name and living in a shed, because seriously.
Fuck him.

He must take my pause for indecision. “Come on, Claire. My parents would love it if we got back together. They don’t blame you for that scene at the party. Not you, the daughter they never had. Imagine how happy they’ll be.”

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no. Do it. Ruin my life. I’m not the one who messed us up, and I know you don’t know this, but I’ve had a
really bad fucking day.
So do whatever you think you have to, because whatever it is would still be better than getting back together with you.” I close my eyes, pushing down the tightness in my chest and taking a deep breath.

My life is over, but suddenly Declan doesn’t seem like such a bad guy. Relatively speaking. I laugh, because it’s that or cry, and I’ve already done that once today.

The line falls silent. I feel a little sorry for him. Michael’s screwed up in a way that ruined whatever he thought he wanted, and it’s obviously driving him nuts. Even if he could be underhanded and manipulative when we were together, he never went all out crazy like this. He should be getting help somewhere. Like professional help.

“You know what. You’re upset. I’m sure this is a lot to take in for you.” He clears his throat. “Take a couple of days to think about it. I’ll call back on Friday.”

“My answer’s not going to change.” Not now, not ever.

“Just think about it. I’ll talk to you on Friday. I love you, baby.”

I try not to scream into the phone.

“Michael—” The phone goes dead. He’s gone.

Now what? I drop my head into my hands, defeated. I said I wouldn’t cry, but it’s making its way up anyway. Swallowing hard, I force it back down, quickly wiping a tear that escaped. How can he do this to me? He’s going to destroy me. And what can I do about it?

The only answer I can think of fills me with despair.

Nothing.

Rule number four: Never, ever assume the day can’t get worse.

D
ing.

Fucking emails.

I slap shut my laptop and lean back to look at the chaos on my desk. Papers are everywhere, and I can still tell where Claire was stretched out across the top. But now I’m back to being just a cog in the damn machine.

Checking my email, making calls and drafting legal documents about shit nobody cares about but other lawyers. Was I ever like her? Dreaming of making a difference?

No, because this job was always just something I expected myself to do. I enjoy it most of the time, but the only difference I was thinking about making was in my bank account. I appreciate having a case that feels worthwhile, but not enough to go looking for them.

I choke down the last of the cold sludge in the bottom of my coffee cup. How fucking low have I sunk that I want a new cup of coffee, but I’m hiding in my office so I don’t have to look my assistant in the eye?

Instead I fire my machine back up to deal with the rest of my email. Walking on the wild side.

My phone rings, and I’m glad for the distraction. “Talk to me.”

“Hey, fucknut.”

I wish I didn’t recognize that voice. “You have exactly five seconds to tell me what you want before I hang up.” Why is Claire’s dipshit ex calling me? And why am I even still on the line? “Four.”

“It’s in your best interest to talk to me, fucknut. Life is about to get really unpleasant for our mutual friend, but there’s something you can do about that. I don’t know why she’s bothering with you, but I have a feeling you’d do quite a bit to avoid what I have planned.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mikey. Your mom and I are just good friends. I promise. Three.”

“Oh bravo, fucknut. That really told me.”

If he says “fucknut” one more time, I’m going to reach through the phone and strangle him. “Two.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to shoot your mouth off if I were you. It’d pay for you to listen to me.”

“You keep talking, but you keep not answering my question. I don’t have all day. One.”

“Alright. Fine. No beating around the bush. I can appreciate that. The short of it? Stay the hell away from Claire. Drive her off, make it obvious that you’re not interested. You don’t deserve her.”

I laugh. She doesn’t even want to talk to me right now. Driving her off seems to be something I’m particularly good at. That doesn’t mean I’m going to let dickless here boss me around though. “I’ll do whatever I want with Claire. Was she a screamer for you too? Man, I thought the whole office was going to hear.”

There’s silence at the other end, and I can almost feel him seethe through the phone line. “Do you really want to know? Because here’s the deal. I’ve got some footage that would answer that question for you quite well. If you don’t back off and leave her the hell alone, I’m going to send it everywhere I can, starting with your dad.” The glee in his voice is sickening.

I can’t imagine straight-laced Claire doing anything blackmail-worthy. “What is it, drunken karaoke?”

“Yeah, sure. Except instead of singing, she’s moaning, and instead of a teleprompter, it’s my dick. Are we clear now?” In the background I hear what sounds like porn, but my gut tells me it’s private vintage.

“And you think I care because? So what if you mess up her life? I’ve had my go with her. Take your threats to someone who fucking cares.”

He laughs, high pitched and nasal. “Oh, I think you care. You act like you’re so cool, but you keep showing up to get in my way. I saw how you two kissed. Do you think I’m a fucking idiot?”

Fuck, am I that transparent? “An idiot, yes. And a moron, a dimwit and a fucking monkey, shit-for-brains.”

“My finger’s hovering over the send button right now. One little click, and this private gem goes to your dad, to Stanford, to her mom, to anyone who’s ever known her. You can prevent that. Just step back and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“I’ve got a better idea. How about we meet up and I break your face? I can’t make it much uglier, but I think knocking out your teeth would be an improvement.”

He tsks me. Fucking tsks me. “Now, now, Mr. Big Shot. That’s not going to make this any easier. Attack me again, and all that’s happening is that you’re going down for assault. I’m sure that’ll thrill your dad. He was so happy to hear about your fuck up at the party. I’m sure he’ll love it when I tell him about round two.”

Of course. “So you’re the fucker who called to tattle on me, huh?”

The shitty thing is, that while I don’t really care what he does with me, he might actually fuck things up for Claire. Maybe he’s just fucking with me, but can I risk it? I’ve got my job here, even if it’s... well, what it is. She’s just starting out, and doesn’t deserve to get dragged through the mud.

Fucking hell, am I about to make a goddamn mature decision? “Alright, so say I believe you’ve actually got something on her. I still don’t see why you’re calling me about it.”

“I told you, you’re going to do your damnedest to drive her away. Whatever you have to do to convince her you’re done. The end. Finished. If you so much as touch her again, I’ll ruin everything. Hell, if you play nice, I’ll send it to you as a bonus. It’s almost as good as the real thing.”

I very much doubt that.

Every fiber of my being tells me to hang up on the fucker, but I don’t. Will I go along with his messed up request? Hell to the no, but maybe I can buy some time. If I can find out what he’s up to, I can fix it before things get messy.