The Boss Upstairs - Roya Carmen Page 0,52

on my nerves. “No… no nookie,” I scoff as I take a seat at my desk. “Satisfied now?”

“Boy, the man needs to give you some. And soon!”

I wonder if this could be considered a hostile work environment. I ponder the thought as I delve into my current project.

“So, no sex yet?” Abigail asks, cappuccino in hand.

I blow out a breath. “I can’t complain. It was me who insisted on the no sex clause in the agreement.”

She reaches for her muffin. “You could always change it.”

“Yes, we’ve already made a few amendments… small things. But I… I feel like I’m not ready. Every time I picture us making love, Donovan’s face pops up. And sometimes Donovan’s mother’s face.”

“Oh, Lord.” She winces. “That’s horrible. His mother’s face?”

I laugh. “I know… I’m messed up. I should probably get therapy.”

She smiles. “It’s not that complicated. You obviously feel guilty.”

She’s not telling me anything I don’t know already. Of course I feel guilty. For one thing, I still don’t believe I deserve any love or affection of any kind. If it weren’t for me, Ethan would still have a father. And second, Patricia has been so helpful, putting her own life on hold to help us out. If she knew what I’ve been up to, she’d be appalled. And if she knew what really happened that day in Mexico, she’d probably never speak to me again.

And then there’s Ethan. He deserves a mother who can give him one hundred percent, and lately, I’ve been way too invested into Mr. Boss Man. Yes, this job is consuming, but it’s only for six months. And what happens after that?

I’ve seen the former Mrs. Hanson, and she’s nothing like me. She’s a goddess, and she’s an accomplished professional, probably as successful and intelligent as he is. Mr. Hanson has exceptionally high standards. It’s evident in everything about and around him. From the clothes he wears, to the penthouse he lives in, everything is top of the line.

I am certainly not top of the line.

I’m a curiosity if anything. I’m young and fun, an escape. Sure, he loves my ass, my flirty little skirts, and my blue hair. He loves his playtime with me, but does he want to settle down with someone like me? Most likely not. He’s slumming it. The sweet good girl, and the domineering powerful boss. It’s all fun and games, until feelings get hurt.

And I have a feeling I’ll be the one who will get hurt. And that scares me to death.

The man has just been through a divorce. He’s probably not ready for a relationship either. He’s just having fun. And so am I. If we make love, I’ll get attached. I just know it.

No, we can’t cross that line.

“Jeez, Gretchen. You look like you’re trying to solve global warming or something,” Abigail says. “Why so stressed out? Just have fun with it. You deserve a little fun.”

I smile. She’s right. “I know. That’s exactly what we’ve been having. Fun. I don’t think I’m ready for more.”

She breaks off a piece of her muffin, and shoots me a playful grin. “One step at a time, my friend.”

22

Weston comes bearing gifts: a bottle of red wine, a box of donuts, and a bag full of toys.

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” I say as he hands me the goods. “Thank you so much.”

I leave the bag of toys in the living room, and take the wine and donuts to the kitchen. Ethan makes a sudden appearance, all smiles. “Mister,” he cheers, excited as can be. My heart breaks for a moment. Ethan is an extrovert like his dad. He loves people.

“Hello, little guy,” Weston offers. “How are you?”

I smile, completely charmed by his awkwardness. I swoop in and take Ethan’s hand. “Remember Weston, Ethan? He lives upstairs. He brought you lots of toys.” I figure we might as well break out the toys now. No time like the present.

Ethan’s eyes are wide as saucers as I hand him the colorful xylophone, silently cursing Weston because those things are noisy. I reach for the retro style plastic television. I crank the music and the looping image. It takes me back.

“Remember those?” he says. “They’re making them again. Replicas, almost identical to the originals.”

I’m mesmerized by the slow moving image, reminiscent of a simpler time. “That’s so cool.”

Ethan is banging on the xylophone. Bing. Bing. Bing. Thankfully, he soon loses interest and reaches for the television. I pull out a wooden puzzle, farm animals and a red