Chapter 3
OFFICE GAMES
Lety
I think I’m getting fired.
César has gone out of his way not to talk to me, going as far as denying my phone calls, only to send a quickly worded email to communicate with me. It doesn’t take much to read between the lines that my boss is unhappy. The question I’m left with is what the fuck did I do?
Nothing has changed. These last two weeks, I have made his appointments as normal, juggled his schedule, met with his clients, and all the other small admin tasks that come across my desk.
Then again, maybe he’s frustrated that nothing has changed.
Like he expects me to get better at my job.
Which is a load of shit, because I’m already damn good at what I do.
I’m timely, efficient, and extremely organized.
I don’t drop the ball, and that’s a lot more than I can say about the other admins and secretaries here.
I don’t see how I could be any better at what I do.
It got even worse when César sent Melanie and Kase to deliver messages he could’ve given me over a quick call.
That’s not like him—he’s never shut me out like this before.
Normally, he makes a point to greet everyone in the building each morning, always stopping by my little office for five minutes to shoot the shit and I’d fill him in on his day.
But now? He hasn’t approached me once in the last two weeks.
Not a word. And I can’t shake the feeling that something’s seriously wrong.
Despite these turbulent weeks, I’ve stayed focused on the work.
It seems to pile up daily at this point, and I’ll be relieved when the expansion is finally complete.
César and Elias can hire more people then.
I’ve been in back-to-back meetings today, not even having a moment to work on the mountain of paperwork piling up on my desk.
Looks like tonight is going to be a long day in the office, and thankfully, I have no scheduled shows that would conflict with my day job.
Being a camgirl has brought in a lot of confidence—and money.
I know people say this all the time, but I truly don’t do it for the money.
Though it is nice—I won’t lie about that.
However, I enjoy the power it brings me.
The way I can command an entire audience, who have all paid to watch me—it’s a big boost to my self-esteem.
Half of these men wouldn’t ever admit to liking bigger girls in real life, but they certainly eat it up in private.
So, if I lost this job, I wouldn’t be completely without pay.
But the benefits here are great, and the income is more than I would get anywhere else.
Plus, I actually like my job. I don’t plan on being a camgirl for the rest of my life, and I don’t want to rely on it to be my main source of income.
It’s a job, sure, but it’s also a fun way for me to distress, and I don’t want that feeling to go away by making it my sole source of income.
I prefer it being more of a hobby, so it doesn’t lose its sexy appeal.
By the time I finish with the first stack of paperwork, the office has cleared out.
The room is dark, except for the dim light filtering in through the windows.
The sun is setting quickly, bathing the room in a soft honey glow.
The janitorial team has started their nightly routine, and I wave at Mr. Anderson, the head janitor for our floor.
I’ve gotten to know him a bit over the last few weeks because of the late nights.
He waves back with a cheerful smile before getting back to work.
I turn back to the stack of papers on my desk.
One page leads to another, and soon I’m in the zone—focused, tuned out from the world around me.
The hum of the office, the occasional voices in the hallway, all fades away as I immerse myself in the reports.
Time slips by unnoticed. It isn’t until my eyes strain against the dim light that I realize the sun has set, stealing away the only natural light in the room.
I reach up and flip on the desk lamp, barely pausing before diving back in.
Just as I reach for the next report, something brushes my shoulder.
I scream like I’m the lead actor in a horror film and shoot out of my chair, heart pounding.
I whirl, hand on my chest to see what touched me.
Leaning against my door, with an amused smile on his face, is César.
I freeze, both shocked and terrified to see him here.
I should have known he’d be here just as late, but considering he’s kept me at arm’s-length these past two weeks, I forgot he was in the building.
“Have you ever heard of knocking?” I snap, unable to hide my embarrassment from the overreaction. Part of me realizes I shouldn’t be snapping at the man who holds my future in the palm of his hands and signs my check, but I’ve never been good at hiding my emotions.
“I did. Multiple times,” he muses, pushing off the door, moving into my closet-sized office. The space suddenly feels suffocating with César’s large body taking up the room. We’re so close I can smell the spearmint from his aftershave.
“You…did?”
“Mm-hmm.” He perches on the edge of my desk. “Saw that you were still here and wondered why you’d be here this late.”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“Could you?” He raises a brow. “And here I thought you managed my calendar.”
“Oh, so you’re acknowledging me personally for the work I do?
And here I thought you only did that through your other employees.
” I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.
Because the truth is, I’m hurt. I hate that I’m coming to work each day, nervous it’s going to be my last. I hate the added stress put on an already stressful job.
The look of bewilderment on César’s face takes me by surprise. Which only further confuses me. “Did you come in here to fire me? Because if you are, just say it already.”
“Fire you?” His eyes go comically wide. It would be funny if it wasn’t such a serious topic. “Why the fuck would I fire you?”
“Because…” All the pent-up rage leaves me in an instant, leaving me feeling foolish. Maybe I was reading into things that weren’t there? I’ve seen his schedule. Hell, I run his schedule, so I know how busy he’s been. He’s doing all he can to keep afloat. So am I.
“I’m sorry,” I say after an awkward pause. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess we’ve all been under a great amount of stress.”
César sighs, running a hand through his hair. I can’t help but stare at how much his shirt strains, showing off the muscles he’s hiding underneath. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve been preoccupied. You thought I was going to fire you this whole time?”
My face flushes, and I nod, not trusting my voice.
César mutters a low string of Spanish curses and storms around my desk. Before I can react, he’s in front of me—his body pressing in, backing me against the wall. My breath catches as his chest brushes mine, solid and unyielding. This is far from appropriate, but I can’t bring myself to care.
“You are my best damn employee,” he growls, voice rough with emotion.
“I’m not losing you.” His eyes burn into mine, fierce and unwavering.
“If you ever feel like this again—like you don’t matter—you come to me.
You tell me. Because you”—his hand comes up, fingers skimming my jaw in a phantom touch—“are too damn important to me to be walking around thinking I don’t want you. ”
His voice dips lower, husky now. His eyes dip down to my chest, and I swear his pupils dilate. “Because I do. Maybe more than I should. And your happiness is important to me.”
His words slam into me, stealing the breath from my lungs. My body reacts on its own accord, arching closer to him. My nipples pebble, almost painfully so. Heat rushes between my legs. Get yourself together. This is your fucking boss! You’ve sworn off men, too, remember?
I remember. I just can’t seem to get my vagina to remember that. César and I walk a precarious line. At this moment, I don’t feel like his employee. He licks his lips, and it takes everything in me not to close the space between us and kiss him until I consume every part of him.
It would be wrong. Very wrong.
And yet the temptation is nearly impossible to ignore. With the air thick with heat, my body is ready to surrender to something raw.
I’m seconds from leaning in when César suddenly steps back. The distance between us hits me like a bucket of ice water, shocking me back to reality.
He stands there, calm and composed, like nothing just happened.
Like the tension crackling between us was entirely one-sided and he didn’t just say he wanted me.
I blink, stunned, my heart still racing.
Did I imagine it? That electric pull, the way his eyes darkened, the way the world seemed to fall away?
Or is my overtired mind conjuring fantasies I shouldn’t be having about my boss?
“You should go home, Lety. It’s getting late,” he says. Lety. Not Miss Zavala. He speaks my name like a gentle caress that leaves me feeling warm all over again. It also gives me whiplash. Like one minute, I think he wants me and the next, he’s cold and distant.
“I can’t,” I manage to say, somehow finding my voice. “I have reports I need to go through tonight.”
César stops and turns to look at the stack of papers on my desk.
Without another word, he leaves, and I’m more confused than ever.
A moment later, something squeaks against the tile.
César comes back, pulling an office chair, which he parks right in front of my desk.
To my amazement—and horror—he takes a seat, grabbing the top report. “Then we better get to work.”
“Oh, I don’t need your help—”
“I didn’t ask if you needed my help,” he replies, head bowed as he pretends to be fascinated by whatever is in the report. “Besides, I’m not leaving you alone in this building and letting you walk to your car at night by yourself.”
Again, he steals my ability to speak, which is really fucking annoying because I always have something to say. Instead, I sit my ass down at my desk, peering over at him like that will somehow help me make sense of the situation.
“We could be here late,” I say in hopes it will persuade him to leave. “Don’t you have anything you need to do? A date or a bar you want to go to?”
“A bar?” He smirks. “Do I look like I’m in my twenties?” It’s not lost on me he mentioned nothing about a date. “No, Lety, I think I would rather be here.”
“But—”
“What about dinner?” He completely ignores me and pulls out his phone. “You like those street tacos from Las Trancas, don’t you?”
“I do …” I confirm, suspiciously. “But how did you know that?”
“Because you ordered it twice last week. You also mentioned it to me awhile back.”
I don’t ever remember talking about places I like to eat, but he somehow pinpointed my favorite place in town—a small, local food truck ran by the sweetest family. My face heats at the thought of César knowing how many times I’ve ordered food. A girl’s gotta eat, but a girl hates to cook.
“Fine, but I’ll pay for my half. I want—”
“Carnitas. And no, you won’t pay for shit.”
I’m getting really tired of this man talking over me, but I’m also not going to argue if he wants to spend his money on me. I’m not going to try to convince him otherwise. I make a living out of taking money from men.
“Okay, I suppose if you’re going to feed me, you can also help me with the reports. They’re all for you anyway.” I settle in my spot, rolling my head from side to side, and grab the next report.
César’s lips curve into a slow, confident smile. “I’ll feed you whenever you want. As long as I’m the only one buying you food.”
The words hit me like a spark, warm and confusing all at once.
I open my mouth to ask him what he means.
If he’s flirting, staking some kind of claim, or just being his usual charming self, but before I can get a single word out, he’s already returned his attention to his phone.
The sudden shift leaves me sitting there, blinking, my mind spinning with questions.
Does he see me that way? Was that a joke, or something more? Why do I even care?
I replay his voice in my head, trying to decode the tone, the look in his eyes, the timing of it all. But I get nothing—no clues, no certainty. Just a lingering heat in my chest and a million thoughts I can’t quite stitch together.
And as the silence stretches between us, I realize something dangerous is beginning to bloom.
And I have no idea what to do about it.