Bosshole by Jagger Cole

5

Delphine

“And this is your office,here. There’s a lounge down the hall by the elevators, and the conference room on this floor is available any time. Just buzz me or one of the other girls to schedule it in.”

Jenna, the head assistant, smiles at me. But it’s kind of a fake smile. It’s the kind of smile that says “honey, you’re ten years younger than me. How the fuck are you my superior?”

“So, go fuck yourself?”

I blink. “Huh?”

Jenna frowns through a plastic smile. “I said is there anything else I can help you with?”

It really is what she said before. I’m just losing it. Maybe flashing your boss, twice, will do that to a girl.

“No, I’m all set! Thanks a lot, Jen!”

“It’s Jenna,” she smiles. Her eyes are not smiling though.

“Right. Thanks, Jenna. I think I’m good!”

“Sooo good to have you here!” She smiles tightly again. Then she spins and walks off around the corner, leaving me alone. I glance around at the new, all glass-walled office. I turn around and my mouth forms the word “wow” soundlessly. The view of most of southern Manhattan is incredible.

“Settling in okay?”

I gasp and whirl. “Oh, Ms. Hammerschmitt!”

Helen smiles from my glass doorway. “Just checking in. And please, just Helen is fine. Is the office okay?”

“Uh, yeah?!” I laugh. Then I compose myself. “Yes, it’s…” I grin. “It’s gorgeous. And thank you so much, Helen.”

“For?”

“For hiring me?” I smile.

She laughs. “Your resume is impeccable, Delphine. We’re happy to have you.”

Some of you, maybe, I think to myself. Maybe I need to work on my poker face, though. Because Helen laughs.

“Mr. King is too, Delphine. He’s just…” She pauses. She turns to smile thinly at Jenna who seems to be taking her time walking past the conversation. Jenna takes the hint though and scampers off.

Helen turns back to me. “He’s guarded, that’s all. And firm.” She smiles. “Abrupt, at times.”

“I didn’t realize he didn’t…” I frown. “Ms. Hammerschmitt…”

“Helen.”

I smile. “Helen, you are aware who my brother is, right?”

“Is that going to a problem?”

“Not at all.”

“Then yes, I know, and no I don’t care.” She smiles again. “Mr. King will be fine with it, trust me.” She shrugs. “Well, I’ll let you get settled and start in on things.”

“Oh, Helen, I had this dry-cleaned.” I pass her the skirt she lent me, freshly cleaned and in a dry-cleaning bag. “Thank you so much for that, yesterday.”

“Oh, my pleasure, Delphine.” She smiles when she takes the skirt from my hand. “Just do what you do, and we’ll be good.”

When she leaves, I sit to start in on things. But the one cup of coffee I had when I woke up isn’t cutting it. Especially since I was up half the night simultaneously cringing and fantasizing about the fact that Barrett saw me naked. Twice.

I groan and stand. I head down the hall to the break room area. I spot the gleaming automatic espresso machine and grin. Perfect. I walk over and push the button to start it. The machine hums quietly—quietly enough that I can hear voices coming from right around the corner, where there’s a lounge of sorts.

“Are you fucking serious?” A woman’s voice gasps.

“Yep. He made Candice scrub it out with a toothbrush!” The second voice is Jenna.

“There’s no way that’s legal!” A third woman’s voice buts in.

“I don’t think it’s illegal,” the first voice says again.

“To make your secretary crawl around on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush?” It’s a fourth woman’s voice.

“Not illegal, just an asshole move,” Jenna huffs.

My espresso finishes, and the machine makes a loud beeping sound. The voices go silent. I groan. Great. Now it seems like I was eavesdropping. Because I was. I take a breath and walk around the corner with a smile.

“Hi!”

Jenna and what looks like a few other secretaries all clam up. They glance at each other, and then suspiciously at me.

“I’m Delphine,” I smile. “Nice to meet you all!”

“You’re Mr. King’s new analyst?” A pinched-face woman says thinly.

“I am, yeah. First day!” I make a “eek” face. They don’t crack at all. I clear my throat. “Boy, he’s a real prick, huh?”

Instantly, they all relax. The whole table grins at me. Jenna herself beams as she pulls out the empty chair next to her.

“Girl, welcome to King Equities.”

I don’t actually stayand gab with Jenna and the rest of the executive assistants. I do actually need to knuckle down and get to work. So, after a round of nice-to-meet-you’s and promises to get drinks after work sometime, I head back to my desk.

Instantly, my office phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Mr. King would like to see you in his office.”

The woman hangs up without waiting for an answer.

“Um, okay, your majesty,” I grumble out loud. I’m slowly starting to understand that Mr. King runs this place like he’s an actual king. But he is, of course. The Demon King of Wall Street himself.

I collect myself and head down the hall and then up the stairs to his floor. His blank-faced secretary merely nods at me. She whispers something into a phone and then nods again.

“You can go in.”

I walk up to the big double-doors. I steel myself, take a breath, and then open them wide. I step in. The doors swing shut with a heavy click behind me. And there he is, at his desk up on that dais, like he’s sitting on a freaking throne.

I stare at him. This is the same boy who used to smoke cigarettes, listen to rock music, and work on engines with my brother in the garage. I remember the rough hands, and the oil slicked muscles. I remember the dirty, secondhand clothes and the beat-up car.

Now, he’s the King of New York.

“Did you hear me?”

I blink. I realize Barrett is staring at me. “Sorry, what?”

He glares at me. “I asked how the numbers on the Dina-Tech acquisition proposal looked.”

“The Dina-Tech….”

He rolls his eyes. “The pharma company? They make that cancer drug—”

“I know who they are,” I snap back.

“Oh, good, welcome to the conversation.”

I narrow my eyes at him. Barrett smiles thinly.

“Yes?”

“Nothing,” I mumble

His smile widens a touch. Smugly. “How do they look?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen them yet.”

“Oh, wonderful,” he smiles sarcastically. “I’m so glad we hired you. Great, great work, Delphine.”

I frown. “Sorry,” I stammer.

“Just fix it,” he growls. “It’s time to hit the ground running, Delphine. You can go.”

It’s the hand wave, like he’s brushing crumbs away, that makes me snap.

“Okay, you know what?!” I hiss.

He looks up. He almost looks amused. “Yes?”

“I haven’t had time to look at the Dina-Tech numbers because I’ve worked here for all of eleven minutes, okay?!” I glare a him. “And are you being a prick to me because I can’t slow time, or because I happen to be related to Roland? Who, by the way, I also think is a giant bag of dicks.”

He smirks. My pulse roars. Neither of us says a thing for what seems like a very long time.

“Are you done?” He finally grunts.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

His mouth thins. “This is your first real job, so, I’m going to chalk this up to that.”

“Chalk it up to me calling you out on being a—”

“Stop.” The word cuts through the space between us like hatchet. Barrett slowly shakes his head as he stands and glares down at me from his pulpit. “Whatever our background, or that we used to sort of know each other through your miserable fuck of a brother? That was ten fucking years ago,” he hisses. “And I am not that guy anymore.”

“And I’m not that little girl any—”

“I’ve picked up on that.”

The way he smirks makes me flash back to what he saw yesterday. You know, just all of me, naked and sprawled on the fucking floor. Oh, and giving peep shows in the front door of my apartment, apparently.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know,” he growls.

“Why don’t you tell me, Barrett,” I hiss.

He narrows his eyes. But then he smirks. “Wearing panties today, Delphine?”

I blush deeply. “You can’t ask me that.”

He laughs. “Oh, yes I can.”

“It’s sexual harassment.”

He rolls his eyes. “To ask if you’re wearing fucking panties? After yesterday, I’d say it’s fair question.”

“That is not—”

“And you flashed me, Delphine,” he shrugs. “I’m the one who’s been harassed in the workplace.”

I stare at him smirking at me. “That’s not funny.”

“I disagree.”

“Well, good thing I’m running a multi-billion-dollar firm, not a comedy special. And seeing as I am, running a multi-billion-dollar firm, that is, why don’t we get to work,” he grunts.

“We?”

“You,” he snaps. “You get back to work. That thing I pay you to do here?”

I glare back at him. “What made you such a prick?”

He freezes. I get the distinct feeling I’ve crossed a line. But I also don’t care. He’s being an asshole, and I know he’s punishing me for who my family is. And it’s pissing me off.

“You didn’t used to—”

“You never knew me, Delphine. No, stop,” he snaps when I open my mouth. He stands abruptly. His shoulder muscles coil under his fitted dress shirt. His huge hands slam down onto the desk.

“You think you did. Or maybe you painted a pretty little fucking picture of me in your pretty, rich little head from then. If you did, I’d throw that painting out though. Because that was never me. Or maybe you couldn’t tell from up in your ivy-covered tower of roses.”

“That’s not fair,” I hiss softly.

“Deal with it!” He snaps. “This is me, Delphine!” He almost yells. “And this is our relationship. I am your boss; you are my fucking employee.”

I know I should be scared. I should be terrified when the Demon King himself roars at me like this. But I’m not. The problem is, I’m ashamed to admit even to myself that what it does is make me tremble. It makes me hot in places it probably shouldn’t…

It also makes me want to roll my eyes. The rest of Wall Street might cower in fear from his wrath. And maybe I do a little bit. But I also just see the boy with the dirty jeans and the charming glint in his eyes.

So, I roll my eyes. I turn and I start to walk to the door to his office. “Try not to guillotine too many people before lunch, your majesty,” I snap sarcastically.

“Try to keep your clothes on on the way back to your office, princess,” he snaps.

I blush furiously as I storm out and slam the door.