Sincerely, Up Yours: A Grumpy Boss Romantic Comedy, page 9
I really didn’t know, and that scared the shit out of me.
15
DARCY
Music played from the fuzzy speakers of the ice cream shop in a jolting, carnival-like tune. The place was decorated in 80’s era teal, purple, and yellow with obligatory lightning bolts on the backs of every booth. The teenage girls working the counter all wore paper hats and striped uniforms that completed the time warp effect the place had.
Dominic asked if they had strawberry, and the girl behind the counter gave a big smile.
“We don’t just have strawberry. We have four flavors of it.”
I couldn’t help grinning while I watched Dominic sample each flavor with a tiny little plastic spoon. He spent so long frowning between the four containers of ice cream behind the glass that I thought he was making a life-or-death decision.
“Strawberry Cookie Monster,” he said seriously.
“Bowl or a cone?”
“Cone,” he said flatly, as if she was an idiot for even asking.
His ice cream was strawberry with chunks of real strawberry and vanilla wafers mixed in. The whole thing was topped off with whipped cream and graham cracker crumbles. I took a more normal amount of time deciding between two flavors and ultimately landed on “Blueberry Crush”, which was a neon blue ice cream with chunks of brownies drizzled with caramel syrup.
“This place is exactly like I remember,” I said, stealing a taste of my ice cream while we headed to the back patio. A brief moment of strangeness cut through me. I was practically on a cute little date with my terrifying boss. At least, that’s how I’d seen him before tonight. Maybe it was him losing the suit or the way he’d stood up to my dad, but the butterflies in my stomach made me wonder if this had anything to do with the interview for me.
“It’s nice,” he said. He’d seemed distracted ever since we got in the car and a little distant, but I figured that was just him preparing to stonewall me for the interview.
“Mom and dad used to bring me here after music lessons. This was the table we always got.” We’d headed outside and claimed a picnic style bench in the narrow back area of Swirlie’s. There was a grassy area above the patio with cornhole boards, a small playset for kids, a giant Connect Four set, and some outdoor party games. The whole area was enclosed in a fence that was painted in bright pastel murals featuring trees and happy face masks hanging from rusted nails. Being back here made me think of childhood.
I noticed they were putting a fresh mural on part of the fence and someone had even taken the trouble to replace the old nails holding up the masks. It made me think about how people always say nothing lasts forever. Maybe that was true in some senses, but not all of them. If people cared enough about something, they could make it last. They could take care of it, just like this place was being looked after.
I didn’t know why, but that thought struck me as important.
“Music lessons, huh?” Dominic asked after a little while. He’d been mostly focused on his ice cream and looking all around, taking in the scene. “What instrument?”
I took a bite of my ice cream, smirking. “I’m supposed to be interviewing you. Not the other way around.”
“A good interviewer builds rapport with their subject.”
“Touche. It was piano. My dad was a college professor back then and was always trying to get his big break writing for journals.”
“Ah,” Dominic said, nodding as if he’d already pieced it all together from the sparse details. “Let me guess. You got into writing because it was what your dad wanted?” Without waiting for an answer, he nodded again, smiling to himself. “Yeah, it makes sense now. You hate my guts, but you still like pleasing people. That’s one reason you’re so obnoxiously good at your job, isn’t it?”
“I’m not sure if that was a compliment,” I said carefully.
“I don’t give compliments.”
I rolled my eyes and folded my arms. “Why do you try so hard to be such a grump? It’s pretty obvious you’re forcing it.”
“I wasn’t done building rapport.” His gaze locked with mine and a spark of fire ran through me. God, with one look, it was like he could cut straight to my core and make me feel so… seen.
“Well, as a matter of fact, you’re not entirely correct. Dad didn’t necessarily care if I became a writer like him. He just wanted Eloise and me to do something meaningful with our lives. He’d say things like chasing a paycheck was for pawns in the system, or you can’t take money with you after you’re gone, but you can leave your reputation behind. Back then, I wanted to play soccer and basketball, but he’d only get us lessons for things like piano or a private art tutor for Eloise.”
“Do you still play? The piano, I mean.”
“No,” I said. I looked down as a sudden wave of sadness washed over me. “It brings back bad memories, I guess. I spent a few years really trying to get good. Eloise was thriving with art and dad was always so proud. Then there was me, never really managing to do anything but reach ‘expected competence.’ That was his phrase for it. Like when you’re as good at something as you probably should be, given the work you’ve put in. He’d talk about it like it was a knock against me, and it drove me crazy. It never felt like I could try hard enough to make him happy. So when I started getting some emails home from teachers saying I was excelling with writing, everything changed. He let me give up the piano lessons and started giving me mock assignments every night and making me hit deadlines.” I flashed a sour smile. “I’ve been training for this since I was in pigtails, basically.”
Dominic scowled. “Fuck your dad.”
My eyebrows bunched together. “Aren’t you supposed to at least pretend to like my dad? It’s not exactly the best way to start a r–” I hesitated. I’d been about to say it wasn’t the best way to start a relationship, like this was a date and not an interview. My cheeks burned red.
Dominic smirked. “I’ve never pretended to like someone and I’m not about to start now. Fuck pretending. It’s a waste of time, and time is one thing I never waste.”
Everything about him was always so intense. Maybe it should’ve been off-putting, but it sort of made me feel like I was seeing life in higher resolution when I talked to him. “Was it really so wrong of my dad to push me to write? I can never completely decide. I mean, couldn’t you say he just wanted what was best for me?“
“It was your dad wanting what was best for him, from the sounds of it. That’s why Eloise does art, right? Your dad pushed it on her.”
“Sort of, but sort of not. He pushed her to try it, but she loved it once she started. She always had a talent for it. He brags about her all the time to his old college teacher friends. He had to quit teaching and take up real estate when money got tight and the journals stopped showing interest in his submissions. I know he’s super ashamed about it because it’s not the kind of thing he sees as ‘meaningful.’”
“So he tries to get his daughters to do what he couldn’t. That’s why he looks down on you working for The Squawker? Because of his own insecurities?”
I chuckled, but there wasn’t much humor in the sound. “I didn’t realize it was so obvious. But yeah, I think you’ve pretty much figured out why my childhood was so fucked up after hearing my dad speak for about fifteen seconds. That’s impressive.”
He took a bite of his ice cream, nodding thoughtfully. “I meant what I said, Darcy. About wanting to fire you and not being able to. Yet,” he added with a rare grin. “With the headaches you caused me, you would’ve been gone if I had the slightest excuse. But you’re good at what you do, and that’s not a compliment. It’s a grudging acknowledgment of the state of things.”
I smiled, chewing my lip. “It sounded a lot like a compliment, and you can’t stop me from taking it as one.”
“Sounds like I need to bruise that ego of yours now before it gets too big. Like mine.”
I remembered calling him out in front of the staff that first day and cupped my hands around my eyes, ducking my head a little. “Maybe I should apologize for saying you needed a bigger office to fit an ego your size.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said seriously. “People have always avoided speaking their mind to me. I mean, there’s Marcus and Tristan, but everybody else…” he pursed his lips and shook his head, as if he didn’t know why he’d even brought it up.
I was tempted to press him to continue, but I didn’t think I needed to hear the rest to know what he meant. A guy who looked like him coming from the family he came from probably had to deal with either flattery or fear. People probably always wanted something from him. I could see how me being a smartass might actually feel like a refreshing change.
I felt my ice cream drip on my hand and realized I’d been too absorbed in the conversation to touch it for several minutes. I took a quick bite, and decided to change the subject. “Well, I did want to say it meant a lot to me. The way you stood up for me back there. I’ve never really tried to tell my dad how I feel about him dismissing what I do, but it felt good to know he heard it. Maybe he’ll realize what a dick he’s been after that.”
“Yeah, well… don’t start getting emotional.”
I grinned behind my ice cream, then my attention drifted to a group of teen girls who came to sit outside at one of the other tables. They immediately started giggling and whispering to each other when they saw Dominic. I couldn’t say I really blamed them. As a teen, I probably would’ve had a hormonal meltdown if I saw him. Adult me wasn’t faring much better, actually. It was a constant battle with my body around him. Every bone in my body wanted to jump over the table and mount him. My brain was like a chaperone at a pre-K field trip trying to tell the kids not to jump the fence of the gorilla enclosure to get a closer look. It was a constant, mostly losing battle.
It wasn’t completely physical, either. His straight-to-the-point no-nonsense manner made me feel like I’d been plugged straight into some kind of energy source. My body and brain were buzzing with stimulation, and I wanted more of that feeling. And all of those were very dangerous thoughts. Dominic was only here because I’d convinced him to let me do these interviews, and I needed to make sure I didn’t start complicating things. There was also the fact that his family was the main reason my life was upended two years ago. I was starting to wonder if I had read the situation wrong, though, and decided I could subtly start the interview there.
“So, uh,” I said. “The thing my sister brought up. About Columbia. I realized it was you that first day at the office, but I didn’t want to say anything. I thought maybe you remembered and just didn’t want things to be awkward. You really don’t remember me from back then?”
“No,” he said. “I remember my dad trying to tell me there was some damaging article circulating the campus. I had no idea he got you expelled over it. He’s a complete bastard.”
His words were a gut punch. In a few short seconds, I could feel my brain start rearrange the pieces that had been in place for two years. “You really didn’t know?” I asked.
“I didn’t. My dad does what he thinks is best for himself. He always has. If you wrote something that made our family look bad, it made him look bad.”
I nodded slowly. It made sense. I’d never really believed Dominic urged his father to take action against me, but I’d lumped him in as the enemy. They were both Lockwoods, and it had been easier to think all of the Lockwoods were the bad guys.
I was having a hard time processing this new reality. On his first day, Dominic had been the enemy. I had two years of pent up anger ready to unleash on him. But what did I make of this? Did I hate him as much if he was just my grumpy boss who was hoping to be able to fire me? Worse, he was now my grumpy boss who had defended me in front of my dad and even told my whole family I was too valuable to fire. He was dangerously close to being downright likable, and I had no idea what to do with that information.
“Well,” I said. “You need to be careful. You’ve been trying very hard to make sure I don’t like you, but if you keep this up…” I shrugged and couldn’t quite make myself say the rest of my thought out loud.
Dominic’s eyes blazed with some unknown emotion. “It’s not that I’m trying to make you not like me, Darcy. I am your boss. I’ve been working my whole life for an opportunity like this, and I’ve put a great deal of thought into the way I want my work at The Squawker to go. I decided a long time ago that I wasn’t going to be the sort of boss who made friends with his employees.”
“Right,” I said, once again noticing my ice cream was melting on me. This might be the first time in my life I’d taken long enough to eat ice cream that it even had a chance to melt. Or maybe the energy crackling between us was speeding up the process. “Becoming friends would be a bad idea. But staring at my ass all the time–not such a big deal, right?”
Dominic’s jaw ticked. For a second, I thought he was about to grab me by the hair and kiss me, but he took a slow, deep breath and seemed to brace himself for something. “Fine. Let’s get it out in the open. I’m attracted to you. Obviously I’m fucking attracted to you, Darcy. And if you didn’t work for me, yeah, I’d pursue my attraction. But you do work for me.”
“I’m attracted to you, too,” I said. I had no freaking clue where this boldness was coming from. Maybe it was that extra packet of sugar I put in my coffee this morning because I was feeling spicy. Damn you, artificial sugar. “And I’ve also put a lot of work into this magazine and don’t want to screw it up.”
“Then we agree we shouldn’t do anything about our… feelings,” he said. It wasn’t exactly a statement. Was I just imagining the question mark dangling there?
“What should we do?” I asked.
“I could think of plenty,” Dominic said.
My core clenched and my whole body went into high alert. I felt it then–like the offer was something physical I could reach out and grab. With the right word or gesture, we could be speeding back to whatever fancy apartment Dominic lived in. Within an hour, I could be pinned beneath his weight and gasping his name.
I had to actually close my eyes for a few moments, forcing myself not to take the bait. I sensed he didn’t fully want me to, either. After a few tense heartbeats of silence, I opened my eyes and pointed to his ice cream. “Can I try that? It looks good.”
Dominic jumped a little like he’d been stirred from a daze. “Yeah. Sure.” He scooped some up on his spoon and extended it towards my mouth. I raised an eyebrow. I hadn’t expected him to feed it to me, but I leaned forward and parted my lips. My eyes met his as he carefully turned the spoon over and dragged the contents across my tongue.
Holy. Shit.
Our eyes were locked the whole time and I felt like I’d just violated the innocence of the group of teen girls who I now noticed were staring at us with wide eyes and slack jaws.
I cleared my throat and ran my tongue across my lips, shifting a little uncomfortably as my freaking vagina started pounding down the door to my brain and asking if she could take it for a little joyride. No, Vagina. You are not getting anywhere near my brain when Dominic is involved, because we both know exactly where that joyride would take us.
“That’s good,” I finally managed. The truth was I had no idea what the ice cream tasted like. I’d been transported to full blown bliss-town because my boss was spoon feeding me while making erotic eye contact.
If a little bite of ice cream from him was this arousing, I frankly wasn’t even sure I would survive a sexual encounter.
“You still have some,” he said, pointing.
I rubbed at my lip a few times and Dominic shook his head. He finally leaned over the table and rubbed his thumb down the side of my mouth. I thought he was about to suck the ice cream from his finger and I would’ve officially melted into a puddle of horny desire right then and there, but he snatched up a napkin and rubbed his finger clean.
I felt like I could finally breathe again. “So we’re both attracted to each other but we’re not going to do anything about it?” I asked. “Just making sure I’m clear on the plan, here.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Why would it be?”
“The look on your face says it might be a problem.”
“It’s not.”
“Good.”
“Great,” I agreed. When I couldn’t think of what to say next, I blurted the first thing that came to my mind. “Did you look at my pitch yet?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I don’t think it fits the new vision I have for the magazine.”
I felt gutted. That pitch was my creative baby. It was going to be a weekly piece on under-utilized scholarship programs for students. I still owed my brief stint at Columbia to a lesser known scholarship I’d won. My future hadn’t exactly played out the way I expected, but I knew that scholarship was the reason I’d even had a shot at something big. I wanted to find similar opportunities and give exposure to them every week. It’d be a resource for parents to inform their kids and it might even bring more attention to the scholarships themselves and help increase their funding.
“What’s wrong with it?” I asked.
“It’s too local. I want The Squawker to be national and eventually international.”
“Local? There are students all over the country who could benefit if you let me write that piece. And international students are a thing, too.”
“I’m not here to argue about it, Darcy. I’m your boss and I made a decision.”
“Yeah, a shitty one.” Just like that, I was seething with rage.
“That’s enough.” Dominic stood and threw his napkin down.
I felt a huge lump in my throat as I watched him go. For a few flickering moments, it felt like something was starting to form between us. I had no idea what I would’ve called it–a bond, chemistry, or even just mutual respect–but with a snap of his fingers, Dominic had ended it.
