11. What to do when your boss finds you in a skimpy outfit?
ELEVEN
WHAT TO DO WHEN YOUR BOSS FINDS YOU IN A SKIMPY OUTFIT?
M y boss is here.
My boss is here and his parted lips and blown out pupils make my skin prickle. My nipples harden under the thick sports bra and I thank whoever invented double padding.
The air hums between us, heavy with unspoken words and his anthracite gaze roaming over me. A muscle ticks on his set jaw and I track the movement with hungry eyes, devouring the tiniest reaction from him.
I’m not a prude. I’ve always felt good in my own body but, even as sheltered as I was, I know it’s not a good look to be half naked in front of my boss. I shouldn’t like his attention as much as I do. I should cover up, but instead, I cock my hip and square my shoulders. After all, he interrupted my yoga session like he belongs in my life outside of work.
He doesn’t.
I can’t even think about why he’s here on a Sunday. And how did he know where to find me? Is he here to fire me? The sweat chilling on my skin cools me down faster than a bucket of ice water.
“Can I help you, Mr Marquesi?” My voice comes out high pitched and distressed, but I don’t flinch under his watchful gaze. The sooner this interaction is over, the sooner I can pack and settle in a motel, if I can find one. I try not to dwell on the fact that it will take my entire salary. My throat closes as dejection settles like lead in the pit of my stomach, my mouth turning downward.
“May I come in, Vanessa?” He speaks as though I’m a wild animal who’ll flee at any moment. I feel like that, too. The grey of his eyes is back in his irises and I miss the look he had a few seconds ago, like I caught him doing something he shouldn’t.
“Just one moment.”
I close the door and turn, searching frantically for anything to throw on. I refuse to get fired while looking so vulnerable.
Wearing an oversized t-shirt I found, I open the door again. Mr Marquesi hasn’t moved a muscle, but his body has grown tighter somehow. As if his muscles coiled in preparation to force my door open.
I invite him inside and point to the beaten-down grey couch and lower myself on one of the two white foldable chairs next to the round dining table by the window. I hide my hands under my thighs to prevent me from fidgeting and wait for him to speak.
But he doesn’t.
He looks at me like I’m a puzzle, then down to my naked legs, before pulling his attention to my suitcase that sits on the floor still filled with my worldly possessions.
His brow wrinkles and I know he sees this place for what it is. Unfit. Decrepit. It’s not even my apartment, and I’d never say this about my friend, but somehow, it makes me feel like I’m unfit and decrepit. Ready to be discarded. It’s what I always felt like living with my aunt. My shoulders curl inward with the sensation and his attention lands back on me.
“How did you know where I lived?” I blurt out, incapable of keeping quiet any longer.
“Jade told me. She said she told you.”
“When did you—” I trail off. Jade’s at work right now. That’s what I’m smelling on him. Whisky and sex. It suits him.
I don’t finish my sentence but can’t help but blush. I check my phone and see the missed text from Jade. I was deep into a Jivamukti yoga sequence. Those usually take ninety minutes and I always turn off my phone to focus on my body and myself.
“Vanessa.” His voice is almost scalding and I blush for another reason. Shame sticks to my skin and clogs my throat. It’s suddenly hard to breathe.
“Why are you here?” I lash out. I don’t need more problems. If he wants to fire me, he should just do it and be done with it.
“Why didn’t you tell me you needed a new place to live?”
My gaze flicks back to him, and I laugh, incredulous. “It’s none of your business.” I cross my arms over my chest like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and his jaw ticks again. For a man like him, it’s almost an outburst and I want to see more of it.
“It is my business, Miss Winfrey. If you’re not looking after yourself properly, how am I supposed to trust you with my children?” The words slap me and burrow into my chest like poison, even though I know he’s wrong.
“That’s not fair, sir. My living situation has nothing to do with my capacity to care for Anton and Livia and you know it. Now, if you’re concerned about them and want to fire me, I’ll understand, but I’m doing the best I can.”
His eyes soften ever so slightly, and I avert my gaze. I don’t want to look at him right now. I’m on the verge of panic, and I don’t want anyone to see me like this, least of all him..
“I’m not here to fire you, Miss Winfrey. I’m here because you need a place to stay and I’m in the market for a tenant.”
Silence greets his words.
“What?” I must have misheard.
“Jade mentioned that you’re looking for a new place to stay. The pool house behind my home is empty and I’m looking to rent it out,” he says, calm and collected like the usual asshole I’m dealing with.
I blink once, twice. I rub my eyes and swallow thickly, but Mr Marquesi doesn’t flinch or move from my couch. He’s not a fragment of my imagination or tired brain.
“You want me to live in your pool house?” I ask incredulously.
“Temporarily, of course. Until you find something more suitable.” He looks around with a grimace, and I echo the sentiment. Jade spent more time at her boyfriend’s house than here this week. She doesn’t seem to care that it's a death trap.
“Wouldn’t it be an issue for the kids?”
And for me.
I don’t dislike my boss, but he’s intense. And I’m not even sure he likes me, so I feel like I’ll be walking on eggshells all the time. It’s very far from what I imagined life would be when I left my aunt’s clutches. Sure, he looked at me with… something in his eyes earlier, but I still think I probably imagined it.
“We’ll establish boundaries for evenings and weekends. The pool house is separate from the house , so you’ll have privacy and it has a kitchenette, living space and en-suite. It’s small, but it’s convenient.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Yes, would be a good place to start,” he answers like this is all a normal conversation and not about to upend my entire life.
“Ugh… I, yes. Okay. What would the rent be?” A pool house near a mansion in the Hills of Sant Armellu would be a fortune to rent, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“We’ll discuss that tomorrow. I suggest you finish packing.” He gets up. “I’ll send a driver.” With that, he turns his back on me and leaves. I’m gobsmacked, wondering what is going on in the head of this man. Have I misjudged him for a cold and unfeeling boss or is the other shoe about to drop?
All signals invite me to be cautious but I can’t stay here. I throw the rest of my meagre possessions into my suitcase and text Jade.
Me
I’m moving into my boss’s pool house for a while.
Jade
Are you sure, babe? I can ask Ritchie if he knows anyone who needs a roommate. Or you can stay at ours.
I don’t know if I can tell Jade yet that her boyfriend really gives off bad vibes, and I’d rather not meet any of his friends. I’ve never had a best friend so I’m not sure what ‘code’ I’m bound by, but I will need to at some point. I go for humour instead.
Me
And listen to you fuck every night? No, thank you.
Been there, done that last Monday.
Jade
Sorry, not sorry. Call me next week, babe. We’ll go for a drink.
I close our text chain. I’m not ready to admit that I’m excited about this move more than I should be. If I don’t tell anyone, it’s my little secret that I can keep to myself. I’ve never had my own place before and the idea of it makes me giggle. I twirl for a second, joy filling up my veins for the first time in weeks.
Except when I’m with the kids, it’s been very dull and unpleasant since I arrived on the island.
My phone vibrates with an incoming text, but when I check, it’s not from Jade.
Boss Man
Your driver is outside. I’ll wait at the pool house to show you around when you arrive. Details and boundaries can be negotiated tomorrow evening, after Anton and Livia’s dinner.
This man wastes no words. The direct and to the point text sends a shiver down my spine. It should be one of dread, but it’s not.
And I don’t know how to feel about that.