The Boss(hole) by Penelope Bloom

35

Juliette

My mother was the first to come to my room when I was back at the family house in New York. We spent most of our time in a twenty-two bedroom house in upstate New York that overlooked a lake and hills. My father had bought up all the surrounding lots, demolishing existing houses and preventing others from being built for privacy.

I’d also seen state prisons that were less secure.

Each exit was guarded day and night. The gate was coded. The only way in or out was with one of father’s drivers. I’d only slipped away because I became friends with one of his guards and snuck out of a party he dragged us all to. I’d pawned the jewelry I was wearing to scrape together enough for a couple month’s rent and transportation to North Carolina.

And now I was back.

My mother wore her hair in a tight bun and had on a loose flowing white top and dress pants. She always dressed to walk around the house like some high-end realtor—decked out from head to toe in the latest designer trends. She was beautiful, too. She was fifty-four and she hardly looked thirty, thanks to some of the best plastic surgeons in the world and a lot of my father’s money.

She didn’t speak at first. She just sat on the edge of my bed while I huddled by my pillow cross-legged. I felt like a child again being back here. I tried to cling to my memories of everything I’d done since I left. I wasn’t a child. I wasn’t just some pretty Coleton thing that was meant to be bartered off to the highest bidder. I was capable and being here didn’t change that.

“You can talk to me, you know,” my mother said.

“No offense, mother, but I know you have to tell father everything I tell you. So, no, I can’t.”

She sighed. “Well, there’s no reason you have to talk about that.”

That being the fact that I ran away and showed up at the gates last night like a refugee seeking shelter. I hadn’t explained why I came back or why I left yet, but father still hadn’t returned home to interrogate me.

“How have things been here?” I asked. I made an honest effort to sound somewhat friendly. I didn’t fault my mother the same way I faulted the others for the Coleton Way. I always saw her as a different kind of victim than I’d been. I didn’t exactly blame her, but I did find it hard to respect her. She just rolled over and let it all happen. None of it may have been her idea, but I’d never seen her do anything to fight the way my father ran this place.

I guess, if nothing else, she was the one who had taught me not to take his shit. She probably didn’t realize she was teaching me a lesson but watching her made me swear to myself I’d never be like that. I’d never just let things happen to me and the people I cared about. I’d do something, even if it wasn’t easy. Even if it got messy.

“Oh, the usual,” she said. She launched into a ranting story about how one of the cleaning women was caught sleeping with one of the cooks. This, of course, was a great scandal because the people who worked at father’s home weren’t supposed to fraternize with one another. Naturally, he’d blacklisted both of them and done his best to make sure none of his many friends ever hired them. But now there was a great crisis because nobody made mother’s favorite roast chicken dish as well as he had. And the new cleaning lady had broken some of the crystal.

I smiled and endured the story, nodding when I was supposed to be sympathetic and gasping when I was supposed to be outraged. Eventually, my mother smiled warmly, reaching to give my thigh a gentle squeeze. “It’s so good to have you back, darling. Being the only Coleton girl around here is exhausting. I missed you, and I’m glad you came back to us.”

I felt a small pang of guilt at that and gave her hand a little squeeze back. “Thanks,” was all I managed.

The part I didn’t explain to Adrian and the team was how much of a task it would be to make it from my room to my father’s office. Everywhere was watched, and I’d need an excuse to be seen anywhere near his office.

I left my room planning to say I was just taking a walk to clear my head if anyone stopped me.

The house was staffed by over twenty people between security, cleaning, maintenance, and cooking. It was more if you counted the occasional people who rotated through for daily, hour-long shifts like barbers, massage therapists, and personal trainers. It was like a small town, and I had to smile and nod to five people before I’d made it out of my bedroom hallway.

My stomach sank when I saw who was standing at the end of the hallway to the wing that held my bedroom. It was Haskins, my father’s chief of security. He was bald and dressed like he was part of the Secret Service, even including those curly, clear wired earpieces. He saw me, then turned, clasping his hands in front of his belt. He gave me a severe look.

“Going somewhere, Miss Coleton?” he asked.

“I wanted to take a walk to clear my head,” I said.

“Your father asked that I keep you confined to the kitchen, your bedroom, and the gardens. Which would you like to walk to?”

“The gardens,” I said, not letting my irritation show. “Thank you.”

I suffered through a supervised walk with Haskins lurking behind me. I had to admit I did miss the gardens. They might be the only thing I did miss about this place. Even with Haskins’ big shadow stretching out in front of me while I sat in the garden, I felt my mood lift. I’d come here so many times growing up to get away.

“Your father asked me to tell you,” Haskins said after almost half an hour of letting me sit in silence while he stood like a statue behind me. “There’s an event he wants you to come to tonight.”

“He does?” I asked. I’d honestly been expecting confinement and the silent treatment for weeks.

“You’ll need to be dressed and ready by seven. Formal wear. Miles will have a car ready for you out front.”

Miles was one of the family drivers. He was also the least talkative and most loyal to my father. I doubted that was a mistake. Even though I’d supposedly come back here by my own free will, it seemed like father was going to do everything he could to make sure I didn’t slip away again and embarrass him.

I eventually let Haskins take me back to my room. I tried to slip out a few more times but Haskins was always there keeping close watch. Something would need to change if I was going to follow through on what I said.

By the time afternoon came, I was laying on my bed missing Adrian. I wondered if I’d made a mistake by suggesting this. I pulled out my phone and texted him.

Juliette: Miss you.

He replied almost immediately.

Adrian: Are you okay?

Juliette: I’m fine. Just a little hungry.

I grinned at my text, waiting for him to take the bait.

Adrian: They aren’t feeding you? What are you craving? I’ll find a way to get it to you.

I replied with a handful of eggplant and banana emojis, grinning wider as I pictured his exasperated expression when he saw them.

Adrian: I’m glad it sounds like your spirits are still high. And your libido. If you take matters into your own hands, record a video and send it to me.

Juliette: Noted. I blame the high libido on my boyfriend. By the way, father asked me to come to something with him at seven tonight. Any idea what it is?

Adrian: Sounds like we’re going to get a chance to see each other. It’s a party and most of the Coleton Central brass will be there. Including your high libido inducing boyfriend.

I’d hardly been apart from Adrian for twenty-four hours, but the idea of seeing him tonight put a huge smile on my face. I was highly mature, so I replied to his message with more eggplants and a few open mouths.

I put my phone away and went to pick out what I was going to wear. All my clothes and things were right where they’d left them when I escaped. It hadn’t even been a year and I somehow felt like the girl who left all this behind was a different person. But I guessed that shouldn’t have shocked me. I had changed since all this.

I was a captive animal who had a taste of freedom, and now I knew what it was to be free from the cage.

I picked out a dress I thought Adrian would like with a plunging neckline and a tight fit. I’d put on a couple pounds since I lived here, and it was even tighter around my ass and chest than it had been before.

I had no idea what my father intended for tonight, but I had a feeling it wasn’t going to go like any of us planned.