Chapter 7
Alessa
Oh, man, I’ve made a huge mistake.
I spent the whole weekend freaking out that I had ruined everything, and all because my boss’s touch got the best of me. I ain’t saying I didn’t want it. I’m saying that I shouldn’t have, because one night’s fantastic fuck is going to haunt me for the rest of my professional life.
I’m gonna get fired. I can feel it in my shaking bones.
My internship is tied closely to my degree. If future employers find out I was fired from such a prestigious internship, I will never work in my field again. I’ve completely boned my career before it’s even happened, and all because I wanted to screw my boss.
It was great. I dreamed about it that night. I keep thinking about it in intervals, my body shuddering from the memory of the pleasure she gave me.
She wanted me to go home with her. She was going to give me more. What did I do? Ha! I ran home like a kid who couldn’t handle adult things.
I’m not proud. I should have at least said something. I’m also not proud that I’ve ignored her messages and immediately threw the roses away. Those beautiful, lovely-smelling roses bathed in gold dust. Okay, so I didn’t throw them away. I couldn’t bring myself to do that. I threw away the note and gave the roses to my next-door neighbor, who works three jobs so she and her son can live in a one-bedroom apartment. She needed them more than me.
What do I do now?
Well, right now I sit in my Econ lecture, but my head isn’t one to listen to facts or absorb charts regarding world and local economies. Sucks, because this is one of my best subjects. I’m also not too shabby at Statistics. I like to think my skills in these areas are how I got my afternoon internship, but now I wonder if it’s because the boss thinks I’m hot.
She must still think I’m hot if she’s constantly inviting me out this weekend. I’m supposed to go to the office this afternoon.
How will I do it? Walk through those doors without collapsing in embarrassment? Does anyone else know? Was I initiated into some club I didn’t know about? Are there other interns who have been on the other end of Ms. Marcon’s attention? Do I work with them? Will they know I fucked her the moment I waltz into the office? Because I walk a certain way? Because I look nervous?
I drop my pen at the thought of everyone I work with knowing I murdered my virginity with my boss’s help.
Why-oh-why couldn’t she have been a random encounter I met at a party or something?
Something strikes me. Something that makes me feel ill.
She specifically called me to come to her empty office late Friday night. She didn’t even care about the files I brought. Didn’t even look at them. Ms. Marcon went right into flirting with me. How long did it take her to get under my skirt? Fifteen fucking minutes?
I mean, I know I’m pretty desperate for attention – let alone hot attention – at times, but that’s sad even for me. Especially my first time having sex!
My friend elbows me in the back of the lecture hall. “Hey. Take note. You know this stuff’s gonna be on the midterm.”
Yes, yes, I know. Fuck me, do I know!
I can’t pay attention. I should call out of work. Tell them I’m feeling too ill to come in. I should at least take one of Julianna’s calls, though.
God knows I won’t.
After class, I grab some lunch and stare at the high-rises in the near distance. I can easily see Ms. Marcon’s building. She’s probably up there right now.
I pull out my cell phone. There’s one last text from her.
“If I don’t see you at work today, I’ll be very cross, Miss Penrose.”
God. Fine. I’ll do it.
I’ll go to work and face the music.
By the time I reach the office, I’ve convinced myself that my fears are all in my head. Nobody knows. How could they know, unless someone told them? The only person who knows what happened between Ms. Marcon and me is Julianna herself.
She wouldn’t tell a soul! Let alone at work!
“There you are!” Cher Lieberthal, one of the other interns, leaps up from our catty-cornered desk and rushes toward me. “How could you not tell us on Friday!”
“Huh?” What is she talking about?
Everyone else in the office comes to a slow stop as well. They’re staring at me. Dozens of eyes, some of them judgmental, some of them curious, all of them wide and jealous.
This doesn’t feel right at all. Someone get me a pail to throw up in!
Cher snaps a piece of paper off her desk. “This went out this morning. You weren’t going to tell us before you came in?”
“What are you talking about? Tell you what?” She can’t mean having sex with one of the bosses. No way.
Nevertheless, I take the memo, headlined and signed by Julianna’s assistant Vern. We get memos from Vern all the time. The fact I see my name in the first line does not sit well with my stomach, which is ready to throw up.
Did she fire me and broadcast it to everyone? What has Julianna done?
“As of this morning, Alessa Penrose has been absorbed as an official employee of Bradford & Marcon. Starting today, she will act as Second Assistant to Ms. Julianna Marcon, alongside Vern Johnson.
Ms. Penrose has also been promoted to the position of Ms. Marcon’s…”
I look up, gasping.
“Ms. Marcon’s partner in all events. This new position is titled Executive Liaison.”
Does that mean I’m her girlfriend or something? The fuck is an executive liaison? What’s even going on?
“You had no idea?” Cher laughs. “No wonder you didn’t share. Did you find out now?”
“Yes!”
“Didn’t even realize that was a position available for filling,” says Courtney, another intern. “Otherwise, I would’ve signed up. Be the professional date for Ms. Marcon wherever she goes?” Her heavy eyelids look me up and down. “She’s boning her,” she mutters to Cher.
“I am not!” I’m such a dirty liar. Sad thing? I don’t even think I’m lying when I say that. How could I? Because of course I’m not boning my boss! Are you kidding?
Except I am. I totally am fucking Julianna Marcon. The woman waltzing into the secondary office where the plebs like we interns hang out.
“Ms. … Ms. Marcon…” I sputter.
Her. The woman. Dressed in a black bespoke power suit with a crimson red blouse and steel accessories. I never noticed the golden locket before. I only do now because I’m too ashamed to look her in the face. That face with its perfectly groomed look, fiery dark eyes, and hair that falls like silk around her shoulders. Has it been touched up? Probably in her office. I’ve seen hairdressers come in and out of there before.
“There you are.” She gestures for me to come to her. I stay right where I am. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Did you not get my messages?”
“I…”
I pass out. Well, not quite. I don’t mean I suddenly plop my face on the carpet, although I would love to go there right now. Instead, I find myself propped up against my desk, my body so overwhelmed by the news, by Julianna’s presence, that I need smelling salts.
“Here.” Vern hands me a glass. Looks like the hair of the dog, except I’m not hungover. “This will help put some spunk back in you.”
Those words may sound good-natured, but Vern has a default expression to rival Ms. Marcon’s. “Thanks,” I mutter, glancing out the open door to see my boss – and lover? – explaining something to the other subordinates. Meanwhile, I’m kicking it here in Ms. Marcon’s office, where I lost my virginity Friday night. Right there on that desk Vern leans against.
He’s got no idea, does he? Or maybe he does. Maybe this is another day ending in Y for one of the most overpaid personal assistants in the PNW. His blue and red striped tie bleeds right into his royal purple shirt, jacket off and draped on another chair. His closely cropped hair makes Vern look like Julianna’s little brother. Does she even have a brother? I think she has one…
I sip the drink. It’s as putrid as puke, but hopefully it’ll keep me from retching.
Julianna glances over her shoulder before showing herself back into her office. “Thank you, Mr. Johnson. I’ll take it from here.”
Vern leaves, closing the office door behind him. Julianna and I are alone. Again.
I still can’t look her in the handsome face.
“Ms. Penrose.”
I continue to nurse my nasty drink. “Whatever happened to Alessa, huh? You were pretty chummy with her the other night, madam.”
Oops. I said madam.
Julianna sweeps next to me. I barely have time to register her immediate presence before she’s sitting beside me, her powerful form looming over me even though she’s closed the height difference between us.
My body still yearns for her. If I thought I was embarrassed before, I am all but humiliated now. Why am I being betrayed like this? By my body?
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all weekend,” she hisses, sending chills through my traitorous body. “We need to talk about what happened Friday night.”
I sigh. “I know. About what we did.”
“I was thinking more about what you did.”
Excuse me? I sit up with a start, the very last of my drink spilling on my hand. “What did I do?”
“You left me high and dry with no explanation.”
She’s serious, isn’t she? Julianna Marcon is pissed off because I dumped her!
Is that the real reason she’s been calling and messaging me all weekend? Why she’s promoted me to her side? Why she’s made me her professional girlfriend? What the hell!
“I don’t owe you any explanation.”
Why is she putting me on the defensive like this? For God’s sake!
“Did I do something to displease you?” Oh, no. Nobody, least of all me, signed up to have Julianna’s breath ringing hot in my ear. I certainly didn’t sign on to have her presence get all up in mine. Not only is she invading my personal space without my express consent, but she’s also making me feel things that I am not in the mood to embrace. “I’d much rather you tell me what I did wrong instead of running off like that.”