Bossman

by Vi Keeland

He looked delighted with himself when he hung up. “Yes, I do have twice-weekly dinners with other employees.” I was in the mood to screw with him some more. “That’s different. Sam is your friend outside of the office. You two have been friends longer than she’s worked for you.” “And we’ve known each other since you bled all over me in middle school.” “I think you’re a little insane.” “I’m starting to agree with you.”

I smacked his abs playfully, but I could feel how hard his body was underneath his shirt. Note to self, keep your hands at your sides at all times, for your own safety.

A new text had just arrived. Mom: You need to clean out your refrigerator more often. You have expired pickles. Really? Was she hiding outside in an alleyway when I left?

“You’re fired,” he groaned as he buried his face in my hair. “So fucking fired.”

Fear does not stop death. It stops life. Eight little words, yet it held the story of both of our lives.

I was done. So done. I launched myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck. “I quit.” He wrapped his arm around my waist, and with one quick hitch, he lifted me up. “It’s about damn time.”

Watching him go through my routine was comical. He must have thought holding the kitty was part of it. I didn’t bother to tell him because…well, because oddly, I really liked watching the oversized man walk around and check my closets for prospective intruders while holding a hairless cat.

“I think it took me this long to realize what moving on meant. It doesn’t mean forgetting what you’ve left behind. It means making her a memory and deciding to have a future without her in it.”

“When are you going to let me make you breakfast?” I extended the bowl in his direction. “You want to stir my Quaker Oats?” “At my place. The morning after. I make a mean eggs over easy.” “I think your pickup lines need some work.”

“Travis…” Chase warned. Travis raised his hands in surrender. “I know, I know…no fraternization.” Chase grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator. “Actually, we’re rewriting that policy.” “Really? Have I mentioned how much I love working here?”

“With the knife I gave him. It was my knife that killed her.” I might not have been the one cut, but I felt gutted nonetheless. Tears streamed down my face. “I left the door open, and my brother can’t hear.” Chase wiped my tears with his thumbs as he took my face in his hands. “It’s not your fault.” I looked into his eyes. “It’s not yours either.”

“It’s not because you’re so into me, you couldn’t possibly touch another man?” “Well, that’s true in general. But my date tonight was my brother, Owen.” Chase dropped his head and laughed. “Are you serious?” “I am. What you saw in the Italian restaurant? Him touching my face? I was humming a song to him.” “Well, then I guess I had nothing to worry about after all,” Chase whispered against my lips. “Although you never know. You’re about to get fucked by your favorite cousin.”