11. Natalie
11
NATALIE
‘ H ow am I supposed to plank when my phone won’t stop buzzing?” I complained to Steph from my painful position on the floor. “Maybe it’s a sign I should take a break?”
I glanced up at my tormentor with a hopeful expression as my arms trembled.
“Don’t you dare.” She scowled, looming over me. “You’re so close.”
My phone was blowing up with incoming texts, but I knew better than to stop before Steph allowed. She punished half-assed effort by adding extra sets.
“Three…two…one. You’re done, nice work,” she finally said.
“I hate you.” I collapsed onto my stomach with a groan. “I really hate you.”
“No you don’t. Admit it, you need this release. You aren’t having sex so you gotta get that endorphin high somehow.”
“Steph!” I squealed, reaching out to smack her foot.
“What? You know I’m right.”
I rolled onto my back and wiped the sweat from my forehead. “There’s no one I want to have sex with. I’m fine being a nun right now. Besides, work is keeping me too busy to even think about sex.”
Between my design work and being James’s beck-and-call girl, I felt like I was on a treadmill that wouldn’t stop cranking up. I’d managed to vet three potential candidates for Clint’s job and scheduled them for interviews with James, only to have him hate them all. The resumes for Lorraine’s position kept piling up but none of them came close to having the scope of skills that James required. I kept pushing him to at least consider someone who wasn’t one hundred percent perfect, but he wouldn’t hear of it.
“You sure about that?” Steph asked, plopping down next to me on the ground. “Because I seem to remember predicting a certain hate-fuck in your future.”
“Oh my god!” I felt my face go hot. “Absolutely not.”
“Hmf,” she said. “I don’t believe you for a second. You want your bossman, you want your bossman,” she sang out, poking me in my aching stomach.
“Knock it off!” I rolled over and grabbed my phone. “The only thing I want from James is a little peace and quiet. There’s like half a dozen texts from him about work stuff.”
Steph snorted. “Boundaries much?”
“More like ‘burning the candle at both ends much.’ He works even longer hours than I do.” I scrolled through my messages, frowning. “Uh-oh, there’s also three more texts from the Bridge Troll.”
“What’s his deal?” she asked.
“The latest one says, ‘Nat, we need to talk about the assignment you turned in. Meet me at Corrigan’s. We can have drinks and see where it leads.’ Then he put a winking emoji. Gross .”
Steph made a gagging face. “Isn’t that against the rules or something? Can’t he get in trouble since he’s your instructor?”
I shook my head. “Everyone’s just so thrilled that someone so high-profile agreed to teach the class. He’s basically untouchable.”
“You need to put a stop to it somehow. It’s only going to keep escalating. He clearly doesn’t know how to take a hint.”
“What can I possibly say? I don’t want to piss him off and have him fail me.” I sat up.
Steph drummed on her knees with her lips pursed, and I started to worry because I knew she was cooking up something dangerous.
“Why don’t you invent a boyfriend?” she asked. “No, hold on, I’ve got a better idea! Pretend James is your boyfriend!”
I laughed at the thought of it. “He is pretty intimidating.”
She poked my side. “Do it! Text the Bridge Troll back and tell him you just got home from dinner with James, and now it’s time for some sexy times. Say you’ll be away from your phone for hours because he’s such an incredible lover.”
“Seriously? That’s a little creepy to talk about that kind of stuff with him.”
“ He’s creepy! You need to meet him on his level. Come on—nothing else is going to get through to him.”
“I guess…” I said, still a little reluctant. “But I wouldn’t even know what to say. My idea of dirty talk comes straight from a romance novel, and that’s not the kind of tone I want to be taking with him.”
Steph’s face lit up in a smile that long experience had taught me to beware. “Hand it over,” she said. “I’ll do it.”
Just because I knew that I should beware didn’t mean I actually would. I was extremely bad at saying no to Steph. Hence all of our workouts. “Okay, okay.” I handed her my phone. “But try to keep it at least a little discreet, okay?”
“I’ll be the soul of discretion,” she promised. “How about this?” she said, reading out the text as she typed it. “‘Sorry, not possible. My boyfriend James and I are getting ready for some fun,’ then a lips emoji and an eggplant emoji.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Gotta use those emojis since that’s his love language.”
My phone dinged almost immediately, and Steph made a face as she read out his response. “Ewww. He asked what James has that he doesn’t. This is where we need to sell it. Time to double down,” Steph stated eagerly, clearly enjoying her role as my ghostwriter. “Describe how absolutely smoking hot James is, and how much you love his massive dick.”
I fell over backwards, laughing.
My phone dinged again. “Speak of the devil, it’s James wanting to know where the TPS reports are filed on the server,” Steph relayed. “But I think we should respond to the Bridge Troll first.” Steph’s eyes lit up with glee as she typed rapidly on my phone. “‘My boyfriend James is hot enough to be a model, with blue eyes and an eight-pack. And his dick is perfect. It’s so thick I can barely get the whole thing in my mouth. He loves it when I deep throat all eight inches of him.’”
“Oh my god !” I shrieked, covering my face in embarrassment. “I can’t tell my teacher that! Delete it, right now!”
“Too late—already sent,” she said breezily. “But come on, it’s for the best. If you don’t get through to him that you’re really not interested, he’ll keep at it.” She wagged her finger at me.
“Ugh, fine,” I said and stood up with a groan, clutching my thighs. “You’re evil, you know. Those squats killed me. I’m going to be in so much pain tomorrow.”
“You’ll thank me during bathing suit season, trust me.” Steph laughed as she headed for the kitchen.
My phone started ringing and when I looked at the screen, I noticed it was James. “Huh, James must really want those reports, he’s calling me.” I answered and tried to ignore the fact that his dick had just been the topic of conversation. “Hey, what’s up?”
“You tell me,” he said tersely.
My anger flared immediately at his tone. James didn’t own me, I had a right to spend my evenings how I wanted.
“Hold on, are you actually getting spicy with me because I didn’t immediately send you those reports? I was in the middle of something, sorry I wasn’t ready when you cracked the whip,” I shot back. “The reports are in the G drive, but if you give me three minutes I can just send them to you.”
The line went silent for a moment, and I prepared for whatever bullshit James was about to dish out. We’d been doing okay working as a team, but there were moments when his bosshole side reappeared. Like now.
“I’m not calling about the reports,” he said in a tone I’d never heard before. “I’m calling about your text.”
I frowned. “What are you talking about? What text?”
“Does ‘eight inches’ ring a bell?”
My blood turned to ice water, and I nearly dropped my phone.
“And something about ‘my boyfriend James’?” he continued. “Care to explain that?”
Now his tone was unmistakably angry. I paced in circles and Steph came out to watch me with her eyes wide.
“James, I am so sorry you got that text! That wasn’t meant for you at all. It’s not what you think. I was sending it to… I totally didn’t mean… Uh, yeah, it was super crass and inappropriate but there’s a reason why!”
Steph slapped her hand over her mouth and jumped up and down.
“I’m listening,” he said simply.
I paced in tight circles, trying to find the right way to explain why he’d gotten a message from me about what he was packing.
“Okay, um, remember I told you about my instructor? The creepy guy? Well, he’s been amping up his creepiness and asking me out, so w—I mean, so I pretended that you were my boyfriend. And I, uh, got a little crude to sell the point that I was taken and not interested. I was hoping that if I got super descriptive he’d get the hint.”
Another pause as he seemed to process the information.
“So you opted to use me, your boss , as your imaginary boyfriend?”
I was so fired.
Blaming Steph felt like a cop-out. After all, I’d handed her my phone—it wasn’t like she went behind my back. There was no need to complicate an already ridiculous story with the facts.
“You and I were texting, so I guess you were sort of on my mind?” I squeaked out as an excuse. I neglected to tell him that he was also top of mind when I closed my eyes every night. And that I’d met all eight inches of him in my dreams.
“This guy is really harassing you?” James asked, his tone less scary. “He’s escalating now?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty bad. I don’t know how to handle it.” I cringed. “I guess that’s obvious.”
Steph was frozen, staring at me with a twisted smile on her face, like she was enjoying the torment I was dealing with.
“I can help you with that,” James said. “That is, if you want my help.”
“How…how do you mean?” I asked warily, because I was sure his offer would have some sort of strings attached. Maybe I’d have to promise him twenty-four-hour phone accessibility and a five minutes or less response rate?
“You need to prove to him that I’m a real part of your life and not just a fantasy or a story you made up. Why don’t I pick you up after your next class? It might help him get the message.” James paused. “And that I’ll beat his face in if he doesn’t get the hint.”
The protective growl in James’s voice sent warmth through my chest. I felt like I could finally breathe again. He wasn’t going to fire me! In fact, he was actually stepping up to help fix the problem. It was the last thing I expected after mentioning his dick in a text. Maybe he liked the fact that I said he was packing eight inches?
“You okay?” Steph mouthed to me.
I nodded and settled onto the couch, and she sat down in the chair opposite me so she could have a good view to continue observing the car crash that was my life.
“Seriously? You wouldn’t mind?” My heart swelled at the thought of James stepping up to be my knight in shining armor. This seemed like the James that Christopher had talked about—the one who really came through for the people who mattered to him. Not that I mattered to him, of course—but he did need me clear-headed and calm so I could do my best work for him.
“There’s nothing I hate more than men in positions of authority taking advantage of their power. I’m sure he thinks he can intimidate you into going out with him. I’d be happy to help you prove him wrong by squashing this bug of a human.”
I beamed at the ground, because I knew if I looked at Steph she’d try to make me laugh. “That would be amazing. And totally above and beyond. I need to come up with a way to thank you.”
Steph snorted at me, and I looked up at her against my better judgment, only to see her doing a vigorous hand job motion. I threw a pillow at her head.
“You don’t have to thank me, just keep up the good work around the office,” he said.
“That’s my job; I get paid to do that. What you’re offering me is something more. I definitely need to thank you for your help.” I bit back a grin. “I have a fantastic idea! What if I serenade you? I know you love my singing.”
He chuckled. “ Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on,” I teased, settling into the couch and crossing my legs. “I could do a ‘Beyonce’s greatest hits’ concert for you! Can’t you just picture it? One solid hour of me hitting those high notes. You’ll love it.”
“I’ll pay you not to,” he shot back.
There was a lightness in his voice I’d never heard before. The big bad boss man was actually having fun with me!
“Ooh, this is getting interesting,” I purred. “How much are we talking here? Because I don’t come cheap, Mr. Branson.”
“Lots. Lots and lots of money.”
I could hear the smile in his voice.
“You’ve got my attention,” I said. “But I really do think you’d be missing out.” I cleared my throat. “ Mi-mi-mi-mi ,” I sang, purposely sounding rusty and off-key.
Steph laughed at me.
“Stop!” he pleaded. “Stop it right now. It’s painful .”
I pouted. “Boo. You’re so mean.”
“I’m offering you money not to sing, I’d say that’s a pretty fair trade-off.”
I grinned. “Okay, you’ve got a deal. We can work out the exact terms when you pick me up from class.” I paused. “And seriously, thank you for stepping up to help me.”
“No problem.”
The line went quiet, like we both weren’t quite sure what to say next, but it seemed like neither of us was ready to hang up.
“Um, those TPS reports,” I said, grasping for a safe topic. “I’ll grab them off the server and send them to you as soon as we hang up.”
“Right, right, of course,” he said, back in business mode. “Appreciate it.”
“Okay, um, good talk!” I said, blushing when I remembered the dick-centric reason why he’d called me. “I mean, weird talk, but we figured it out, right?”
“Yup, see you tomorrow.”
We both hung up and I stared at my phone in silence.
“Wow,” Steph said.
I shrugged at her. “It turned out okay in the end.”
“Nat, your face ! I haven’t seen you light up like that in ages. You should see how big your smile is.”
I squirmed because I knew she was onto something. “Stop. We were just being stupid.”
“Exactly, you were having fun and flirting . I’m shocked that you remember how to do it! But you were actually pretty good. I guess it’s like riding a bike.”
“I absolutely was not flirting with my boss!” I tried to glare at her, but my face felt like it was fixed in a perma-grin. “I was trying to save my job, which I almost lost thanks to your X-rated texting.”
She threw her hands up at me. “Okay, okay, whatever you say. I’m just calling it like I see it. So he’s going to help you out?”
I nodded. “Yeah, he’s going to pick me up from class so we can sell the couple thing to MG.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Hm. How kind of him to swoop in and save you. Sounds like a dedicated ‘boss.’” She made air quotes around the word.
I ignored the implication. “That’s exactly what he is and nothing more.”
“Maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll get to see if our guesstimate was right?”
“Huh?” I didn’t like the devilish gleam in Steph’s eyes.
She held up her hands like she was measuring something. “Eight inches?”
“Knock it off !” I shouted, and we both fell over laughing.