Sincerely, Up Yours: A Grumpy Boss Romantic Comedy, page 5
“Seriously, it’s obnoxious. Like she claims she has a sort of British accent because she ‘grew up’ in the UK. But she was born in the US and didn’t move to the UK until she was way older. Like twenty or something. You don’t just get an accent like that.”
“I’m pretty sure I heard it’s seven years old,” Pollie said. “Like if you live somewhere under the age of seven, you’re more likely to develop a permanent accent. But after seven it’s not really likely.”
“See?” Elizabeth said, jabbing a finger at Pollie. “Science has my back on this. The lady is full of shit. One second it’s bollocks this and rubbish and the next she sounds like she’s straight out of the midwest. I’m going to lose my mind if she’s not off the show soon.”
“You could try watching something with substance instead,” Farhad suggested.
“Ew,” Elizabeth curled her lip at him. “Like what, nature documentaries where monkeys hump each other?”
Farhad shook his head. “Believe it or not, there’s a pretty wide range of content out there between reality TV with accent confused women and monkey humping. Explore it sometime. You may find something you like.”
“Why do we bring him again?” Elizabeth asked me. “And that’s not a rhetorical question, Darcy. You’re being too quiet tonight. Please, make a case for Farhad’s continued existence in our friend group. If you fail, he’ll be immediately exiled.”
I rolled my eyes but pushed my drink back and took a breath, thinking hard. “Okay, well… Farhad doesn’t hit on any of us, but he’s great to have around when creeps try to flirt and we want them to get lost. So he’s basically a portable pretend boyfriend. He also–”
“Really?” he asked. “You’re going to lead with that as my best quality?”
“Hey, you have to know your audience when debating,” I said. “I’m just focusing on the things Elizabeth will appreciate most.”
He sighed. “Fair.”
“He’s also pretty good at telling us if our outfits suck or if they’re cute. Uhh,” I put my finger to my chin, pretending I couldn’t think of anything else. I winced and gave him an apologetic shrug.
Everyone laughed and Farhad shook his head at me, grinning.
“Exiled!” Elizabeth shouted loud enough for the whole bar to hear.
There was a lull in the conversation that turned into dead silence when we saw who was entering the bar. Mr. Lockwood, Marcus, and two beautiful women came in through the door.
“No fucking way,” Elizabeth whispered. “Shit! I didn’t even shave down there tonight. I was planning on getting wasted and busting out the toy collection with a good book instead of dealing with an actual man. Does anyone have a razor and some shaving cream? Hell, I’ll settle for a pair of tweezers.”
“He’s with two women,” I said drily, turning my attention back to my drink. Even without looking, I could feel his presence in the room. There was a heaviness to it. Like a weight or a magnetic force that made me aware of him at all times. Judging from the relative quiet in the bar that had just been noisy moments ago, I sensed I wasn’t the only one feeling it. Every woman in the building was probably visualizing a fantasy future where Dominic fed them grapes and pumped them full of babies–and why the hell was I joining them?
I physically shook my head, trying to get my senses back.
“So?” Elizabeth asked. “They could be his sisters, and here I am rocking the wild untamed garden. Maybe I could just prepare to blow him if things went well. I could play hard to get if he wanted more.”
“What world do you live in?” Farhad asked. “The guy gives off serial killer vibes to me. Look at the way he is with those women. He’s barely paying them any attention.”
“Maybe they are just friends,” I suggested.
“As if,” Elizabeth said. “When you look like him, there’s no such thing as just friends. There’s only people who want to fuck you but haven’t figured out how yet, and people you’ve fucked.”
“Or married women,” Farhad suggested.
Elizabeth snorted. “You think a little ceremonial commitment before gods and men is going to stop any red-blooded woman from jumping on that sea snake if they get the chance? If you do, you’re delusional.”
“Let me write that down so I can read it to your husband-to-be at your wedding.”
I risked a look over my shoulder and saw they’d all scooted into a corner booth. Marcus and Dominic were in the center and a woman was beside each of them. The one with Dominic had shampoo commercial black hair cut into an aggressive swoop that went from above her ears to her perfect little chin. She smiled and slid her eyes toward him, then rested a hand on his arm. Farhad was right. Dominic barely seemed to notice.
He lifted his head and looked straight at me.
“Oh shit!” I blurted, turning quickly along with Elizabeth, Pollie, and Farhad. It couldn’t have been more obvious we were talking about and watching them if we’d tried. I felt my cheeks burning hot and put my hand to my forehead, ducking down like it’d make me harder to notice. “Is he still looking?” I asked.
“Yes,” Farhad said.
I was about to suggest we all simply leave the bar when I heard a familiar voice.
“Darcy? No fucking way!”
I looked up to see the shaggy-haired, bearded bad date from the other week. He was with a guy friend and his eyes lit up as he came to sit right beside me. I suddenly wished I’d opted to sit between Farhad and Pollie instead of on the edge.
“Oh, hey,” I said, trying to sound friendly enough to not be a bitch but not so friendly that I’d encourage him to stick around.
“What are we drinking?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
His friend took the seat beside him and leaned in, smiling as if he was trying to get Pollie’s attention.
“That’s up to you,” I said. I couldn’t even remember the guy's name. It was something strange and monosyllabic, like a caveman noise. Thar? Mar? Jar. His name was Jar. I remembered now because I’d gone on a drunken rant about it to Elizabeth and Farhad, cracking myself up. I think I’d guessed that maybe his mother’s name was Vase and his father’s last name was Potter.
Jar tapped his chin, smile widening. He got the bartender’s attention. “She’s getting me a Jack and Coke! Thanks,” he looked at me and gave a smile and a wink.
Apparently drinks were on me?
Something prickled at the back of my neck and I turned. Dominic was glaring at Jar like he wanted to rip his head clean off his shoulders. I focused back on my drink, chewing my lip. I’d seen what looked like jealousy when I shook Marcus’ hand the day we’d met. Now a guy at the bar pays me a little attention and Dominic looked like he wanted to go ballistic.
This wasn’t my first rodeo, and I knew exactly what that implied. But I definitely didn’t understand it. He acted like he wished he could shotput my ass straight out the window of The Squawker any time he set eyes on me. I mean, sure, sometimes I wished I could shotput him straight into my bed. The man may be cold at best and downright abrasive at worst, but there was no denying he was the whole package. Okay, the whole package minus a parcel or two, like a functioning heart and a drop or two of kindness.
But if you were looking for a little eggplant over the weekend, he was actually kind of perfect. A guy like that wouldn’t be clingy. He wouldn’t go full Jar on you and appear randomly to mooch drinks off you when you were trying to unwind from work. He’d get in and then get out–pun intended.
I chewed my straw, then my cheeks went red when I realized I was falling right into my damn vagina’s trap. Ever since his first day, my lower half had been planning an insidious misinformation campaign. Random, inexplicable thoughts would pop into my head.
Sleeping with your boss isn’t that bad.
Those are big hands. I wonder what it’d feel like with one on each of my ass cheeks.
He’s a big man. I bet IT is big.
He is obviously attracted to you. Who says you can’t just get it out of your system and move on?
Letting him put his penis in you wouldn’t be that big of a deal. I mean, how different is that really from a handshake? It’s just two people touching!
But I knew exactly where those thoughts were coming from, and I’d been doing a pretty good job of shutting them down until now.
Jar made me go stiff when he put a hand on my shoulder and leaned close, even though the bar wasn’t so loud he needed to. “Hey, I’m sorry things kinda went nowhere on our date. I was going through some shit at the time but I’ve still been thinking about you. Honestly, I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”
I gave a tight smile and tried to lean away, but he just grinned and leaned in closer.
Farhad, Pollie, and Elizabeth were too engrossed in some conversation about whether it was pointless to put those little plastic swords in sandwiches and burgers or not to notice my situation. I really wished one of them would just jump in and save me from this guy so I didn’t have to be the asshole, but I was nearing my tipping point.
And then Jar simply wasn’t there. I stared in confusion at the empty stool beside me for a split second before I heard the thump of him hitting the ground.
And there was Dominic standing over Jar looking like an angry God.
Oh, shit.
8
DOMINIC
Maybe I overreacted.
The guy was squirming on the ground like a worm, confusion plain in his eyes.
My fucking chest still felt like it was on fire. I’d only been able to watch about a minute of him interacting with Darcy before I’d bolted from the booth and came over here. “Get lost,” I gritted.
“Who the hell are you?” asked the guy on the ground.
His friend got out of the stool beside him and puffed his chest out at me. Darcy still looked like she didn’t know what was going on, and her friends had all turned in their stools to stare with wide eyes.
“What the fuck, man?” the guy’s friend asked.
The one I’d pulled from his stool was back on his feet and the two of them looked like they were considering a fight, but I felt Marcus move to my side. Maybe they thought they could take me together, but they clearly saw they had no chance against both of us.
“Hey, it happens,” Marcus said. He walked up to the guy I’d roughed up and patted his shoulders, dusting him off. “Hell, I’ve fallen out of these damn stools before even getting a single drink in me. I think that one is rigged, actually. It wobbles just so they can laugh when people fall out of them. Bullshit, if you ask me.”
The guy gave me one last angry look, then moved his eyes to Darcy. “Come on, baby. Let’s get out of here.”
I stepped forward, inching Marcus out of the way as I took a handful of his shirt. “She’s not interested.”
He looked back at me, eyes searching mine.
“What my friend means,” Marcus said smoothly, easing my hands from him. “Is we work with these people. We’ve all got an insane deadline coming up. We’re just blowing off a little steam before we need to get back to the office.” He checked his watch. “Soon, actually. So,” he shrugged, giving a little wink and a shoulder slap to the guy.
I was ready for them to start swinging, but as usual, Marcus had used his supernatural ability to soothe conflict. The two of them shook their heads and stormed out of the bar.
“Um, thank you,” Darcy said in an uncharacteristically meek voice.
“I’m not going to watch my employees get harassed,” I said. I felt a little silly by this point. I’d caused a scene and everyone in the bar was still keeping an eye on me. This wasn’t me. I didn’t play knight in shining armor. I didn’t make excuses for myself. Maybe I was just hoping for a fight. God knew I had enough pent up frustration on Darcy’s account to take a swing at half the guys in this place.
Christine and Allie came to join us. Both women were Marcus’ sisters. He had six in total, which I am fairly sure was why he had to learn to resolve conflicts so effectively. Otherwise, he would’ve died in the crossfire of a catfight by now. I was closest to Christine and Allie, but I saw the rest of his sisters a few times each year.
“Cleaning up Dom’s messes again?” Christine asked. She had wide set eyes and curly black hair. Christine worked for a winery in the New York countryside called Julianne Rows. She split her time between being on location and coming to the city to work on pitching their product to various restaurants in hopes of finding regular customers.
“Dom doesn’t make messes,” Marcus said, grinning as he squeezed my arm. “He just imposes his will on the world and sometimes the people in his way get a little dusted up. But that’s why he’s lucky to have such a diplomatic best friend.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Except I wish you hadn’t been so diplomatic. I really wanted one of them to start swinging.”
“Your boss is just kidding,” Marcus said, leaning past me to address the four employees all sitting in a row at the bar. “He’s a professional who doesn’t start bar fights for fun.”
I made a point of getting to know my staff, so I knew all of them well enough by now. Pollie was one I hired recently. She was young, ambitious, and talented. Elizabeth’s writing was genuinely funny, and I made a mental note to try to keep her around once I read a few pieces she worked on. She was in her early twenties, lived in a shitty part of the city, and didn’t seem to be in a relationship.
Farhad was in his thirties. I’d read his work, too, which was why I moved him to politics. I needed to see if he could adapt. His piece on fashion and trends had been well written and showed an understanding of the market, but the content was a waste of his abilities. If he could learn to adapt and learn under Kirk–the poly sci major I hired–then he could stick around too.
And of course I knew Darcy. She was the beautiful little thorn in my side. The worst thing about her was that she’d grabbed my attention so fully that first day and then mostly made good on her promise. She had been a model employee. She worked her ass off and was clearly one of the best all-around writers at The Squawker. Her pieces all had a voice that was just the right blend of chatty and approachable without leaving professionalism behind. It was a unique blend that she wove well. I couldn’t help but admire her eye for stories, too. Whether she was writing about some obscure and ignored charity or a gossip piece, she knew how to find an angle that captivated.
I didn’t want to admire Darcy. I wanted to fire her. She was too damn attractive. Too damn distracting.
“Well,” Darcy said. “Are you proud of yourself, Mr. Lockwood?”
Her friends at the bar all seemed to shrink back. Normal people didn’t like making eye contact with me, let alone taunting me. Of course, Darcy wasn’t normal. That was half of the problem.
“He had it coming,” I said.
Allie stepped forward, extending her hand. “I’m sorry about him. He’s your boss, right? I’m Allie Fitzroy, Marcus’ sister.”
Darcy’s eyes shifted between us in a way that made me realize she assumed we were together. Was that a spark of jealousy? No. She acted like I didn’t exist ever since our first few confrontations.
Darcy caught my eye. “Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?”
Everyone else had been starting to mingle, but the tone of her voice caused a hiccup in conversation. I sensed several pairs of eyes on us.
Apparently, I was allergic to common sense because I shook my head. It felt like she was challenging me, and I wanted to remind her she wasn’t in charge. “No,” I said. “If you have something to say, you can say it here.” Call it payback for when she refused to speak with me in private on her first full day. I’d wanted to try to dissolve some of the tension before things got out of hand, but she stubbornly refused to let me get her alone, and now here we were.
The entire group was waiting, eager to hear whatever it was she wanted to say.
Darcy folded her arms. “Alright. I was going to tell you it would be nice if you made up your mind. Either fire me, chase me off, or stop trying to play hero for me. So which is it, do you want me gone, or are you trying to protect me, Mr. Lockwood?”
“I’m not looking to fire anyone,” I said. It was a bold-faced lie, of course, but I couldn’t openly admit I was hoping to prune most of the existing staff in front of Pollie, Farhad, and Elizabeth. “Any capable employees will find they’re more than secure in their jobs at The Squawker.”
“And what would you call me, Mr. Lockwood?”
Obnoxiously attractive. A pain in my ass. Her eyes were big and accusatory with just the faintest flicker of flirtation. I knew we were being watched, but I could only see her. I only saw that heart-shaped face and that short sexy hair of hers that was growing more my type by the day.
“Insubordinate,” I gritted.
The corner of her mouth twitched upwards. “Is that a fireable offense?”
“We’ll see.”
“You know what I think?” she asked. She draped her arm over the back of the barstool and tilted her head. “I think you are full of shit. You wish you could fire me, but you realize you shouldn’t.”
“I think you overestimate yourself.”
Marcus cleared his throat. “Boys and girls,” he said, moving to step between us. “I think this is going nowhere good. Maybe we should all go to our table in the corner and get some appetizers. I think it might be physically impossible to be mad while eating appetizers.”
“Let him finish,” Darcy said, never taking her eyes from me.
The air between us might as well have been charged with electricity. I could feel the hairs on my arms starting to stand and an excited chill running up my spine. What the hell was this effect she had on me? Even while crossing me and testing my last nerve, it was like my body was priming itself for a night of mind-blowing sex.
