The Anti-Crush by Harper West

1

Rebecca

After spillingcoffee on my brand-new discount shoes, lint-rolling my sale-rack outfit, and donning my most upscale costume jewelry, I found myself standing before a glass wall trying my best to perfect my makeup.

I’d made a sticky mess in the front lobby of my new workplace and had effectively scared everyone off the elevator with my combination of angry lint-rolling while verbally chastising myself. Oh, and I had also tripped over my own two feet while asking the receptionist for directions to my new boss’s office.

I was not starting this job off on the right foot. Today was onboarding day, and he wanted to meet with me before I began signing paperwork. At some point, I’d managed to smudge my matte red lipstick to parts where it shouldn’t be. If this was Halloween and I was going for a ‘joker/crazy lady’ look, it would have been perfect. However, this was probably the worst first impression I could make.

So before I destroyed my initial reputation any further, I used the glass wall to make sure I appeared presentable again and no longer a disheveled mess. Finished, I pursed my lips together before capping off my lipstick and digging around for my hand sanitizer. I squeezed some out into my palm and rubbed my hands together.

My eyes focused beyond my own reflection in the glass wall only to find the one person in the world that still scared me to my core.

“Holy shit,” I whispered.

I blinked a few times as the man leaning back in his chair locked eyes with me. For as long as I lived, I’d never forget those steel gray eyes. Ice cold, without a soul to guide them. I watched his eye twitch as he leaned forward, folding his hands together before placing them on top of his desk.

And as a nauseating shock rolled throughout my body, I cleared my throat.

“Miss?” I asked.

The receptionist caught my stare in the glass wall. “Yes, ma’am?”

I drew in a shaking breath. “The man in this office. Is he…?”

She giggled. “Yep! That’s the bossman, Mr. Joseph Ryker.”

It was the man who tortured me all throughout high school for something I didn’t even do.

For a split second, I thought about running. I thought about slipping straight out of my heels, booking it for the stairs, and never looking back. But I’d spent the last dime I had on this new outfit and some fresh jewelry to look like I had my life together and my fridge wouldn’t let me go two more months without a job.

“I can’t run out,” I murmured to myself.

“Miss? You can go in whenever you’re ready,” the receptionist said.

Or maybe she was a secretary?

I whipped around in panic. “Where’s the restroom?”

She furrowed her brow. “Mr. Ryker doesn’t like it when people are late.”

I strode up to her desk. “It’s kind of a feminine emergency.”

Her lips pursed. “Around the corner, last door on the left. I’ll let Mr. Ryker know you’ll only be a few minutes.”

I put my hands together and gave her a little prayer sign while mouthing “thank you” from the bottom of my soul. Then, after taking one last peek in through the glass window, I rushed off to the bathroom. No, not rushed. I fucking sprinted. I ran as quickly as my heels would allow, feeling my purse and its contents sloshing against my side. They threatened to spill out onto the floor as I charged into the women’s bathroom, and I locked the door behind me so I could have some damn privacy.

Then, I turned and looked at myself in the mirror.

“You are so fucked,” I said breathlessly.

This can’t be real. There’s no way I didn’t know this beforehand.

Maybe my boss simply looked like him. Maybe my boss simply had JoJo’s gray eyes and his bombastic scowl and his broad shoulders and his impeccable, shining black hair. Maybe my boss had his features, but it wasn’t really him.

However, the tears that crested my eyes told me differently.

“My God, it’s actually him,” I murmured.

Maybe he’s here to see someone. Maybe he isn’t actually the boss.

It seemed unlikely, though. Who the hell visits an office only to take a seat at someone else’s desk? I racked my brain for any explanation as to how I missed this. I searched my brain for anything that could have tipped me off to the drastic mistake I had just made. But, as I filtered through the three rounds of interviews as well as the building tour I’d had last week, there had been nothing signaling me.

There had been nothing warning me about this.

“Shit,” I hissed.

I planted my hands onto the bathroom counter and hung my head. I drew in a few deep breaths, trying to piece myself together as much as possible. I couldn’t screw this up. I had to stick it out, at least for a couple of paychecks. Accounting jobs weren’t easy to come by, and while I wasn’t elated at the idea of putting my Finance degree to work like this, I was ready for the peaceful existence. High school had been wild, growing up with my older sister had been wilder, and all I wanted was to just… be.

All I wanted was to exist within the confines of my quiet world where no one could bother me or cause me any more pain.

And now, my high school bully was my fucking boss.

“Maggie! Wait up!”

I rushed after my sister as she walked off with her friends. I had always envied her, and I still did. She had the petite body all of the guys chased after while she wore those little skirts that flounced around every time she took a step. She didn’t have to wear glasses like me, she got her eyesight from Dad. In fact, she got all of Dad’s wonderful features: his slick, straight hair and his sparkling blue eyes. His slender frame and his long legs.

And me? Well, I got all of my mother’s features. My fuzzy hair that wasn’t quite curly but not quite straight. Her boring brown eyes. Her chubby cheeks and oversized frame.

“Maggie!” I called out.

But all she did was peer over her shoulder and wink at me.

“Surprised you don’t hate her,” JoJo said.

I froze at the sound of his voice. I felt his heat radiating against my back as he stepped out of the shadows and into the light. I didn’t dare turn around and look at him, though. Provoking him in such a way could get me thrown into the dumpster out back again.

But I couldn’t help myself as I slowly turned to take him in.

“Hey there, JoJo,” I said with a shaky voice.

He slammed his hand into the locker beside my head. “What the hell did I tell you about calling me that?”

My lower lip quivered, even though I clenched my jaw in determination. “It’s just a nickname. Why don’t you like it?”

And before I could bat an eye, he fisted my shirt and started tugging me toward the men’s bathroom.

I pulled myself from the memory and dug through my purse. I quickly Googled the company and clicked on the main link that popped up at the top of the page. Maybe JoJo wasn’t a prominent figure in the company. Maybe he was just a fill-in while someone else was gone, or a temporary hire of some sort.

But, when the homepage loaded, I noticed that they had changed the cover art. Instead of the front of the building like it had been when I first did my research, the picture had been replaced with that fucker’s smug face.

And the caption, “CEO Joseph Ryker wins Business accolade at latest West Coast tech conference” sat beneath it.

Holy shit, JoJo didn’t just work for the company.

He fucking ran it.

I have to quit.

I turned off my phone and tossed it back into my purse. This job was everything, and it could give me everything if I played my cards right. The position of accountant wasn’t for a singular person, it was for the entire company, and with it came a salary I never thought I’d see in my lifetime. The benefits alone were worth salivating over, and the idea that this stupid little boy from high school was about to take all of that from me made my knees weak.

Not in a good way, either.

I can’t let him do this to me. Not anymore.

My phone dinged in my purse and I quickly pulled it back out. Maybe JoJo had recognized me, and he was firing me himself. That would be better in the long run, to be honest. I tapped on my email icon and searched for an email from the company, TechGiants, Inc., but instead I found an electronic eviction notice from my landlord.

For failure to pay rent for the past two months.

“Fuck!” I exclaimed.

I gripped my cell phone and steeled my gut. I needed this job. Even if I only kept it for a few weeks to get ahead on my bills, I needed it. So what if the job wasn’t a long-term job? As long as I didn’t lose my measly, rundown apartment, did it really matter?

“Maybe he’s forgotten all about it,” I whispered to myself.

Or, maybe he hired me the second he saw my name just so he could continue torturing me as an adult.

I really hate my fucking sister and her bullshit antics sometimes.