“Hello, brother. Happy twenty-ninth birthday.”
“Thanks. And what a happy birthday it is. If I remember correctly, I’m the same age as yourbossnow.”
Oh, no, she thought, shutting her eyes. She knew that tone. It was the one that always preceded the request for a bribe. He’d seen the article. He went on to tell her about how exactly he had discovered the magazine and how it had just made his day.
“What would our father say?” he asked with fake concern. “Here he thought he was raising a good, respectful woman only to find hisonlydaughter on the cover of some trashy tabloid, kissing herboss.”
She rolled her eyes. “Dad likes Tyler. I don’t think he’ll really care. Mom too.”
“Maybe. But what about Dom? Seeing pictures like these…it would break his heart. You bring dishonor to the family name, Jordan.”
“Fuck you. What do you want?”
She could almost picture the evil smile on his face. “I want a cake.”
“Shall I FedEx it to you?”
“Not today. Christmas. I want that nice sponge cake you make with the strawberry frosting. And I don’t want that box shit. I want it made from scratch.”
“I hate baking, Shane.”
“I know,” he replied with a sick chuckle. “Thanks for the call, sis.”
She hung up the phone and hit her head on the table. Why couldn’t she have had four sisters?
As the day went on, she started receiving some very strange looks. More of her colleagues were questioning her with their eyes. Mervin at least had the balls to say something to her face, but the rest of them just silently judged and restricted their discussions to the vicinity of the water cooler. By five she was annoyed, ready to yell at these assholes and tell them to mind their own business. And just when she was ready to explode with exasperation, her phone beeped. She knew before she even saw the message that it was Max. And he was pissed.
Max:Why is there a picture of you and your BOSS making out on the cover of Hot Gossip???
She rolled her eyes. When it came to her boyfriends, Kevin and Shane were easy to deal with. Dom and Max…not so much. If there was one thing she had learned in her twenty-five years, it was not to combat Max’s temper with hostility. That was asking for trouble. So as irritable as she was, she decided to settle on good, old-fashioned sarcasm.
Jordan:He tripped and fell on my face
Max:I thought he said you guys DON’T have that boss-accountant sort of relationship.
Jordan:I know right! He told me the same thing
Jordan:Yet still he fell on my face
Max:Give Tyler a message for me, will ya?
Max:Balls and shears
Jordan:Don’t know what that means but sure. I’ll tell him.
That sort of worked. He was still peeved, but he’d get over it soon enough. She saw Tyler heading towards her desk and shut down her computer.
“So Shane and Max saw the magazine,” she said once he reached her, “and Max wanted me to give you a message.”
“Balls and shears?”
“Yeah…how’d you know?”
“I got it before.” He shrugged, releasing an aggravated breath. “I don’t want to talk about that stupid article anymore. Let’s go out for dinner.”
“Sure.” She stood up and pulled on her coat. “What are you in the mood for?”
“Maybe some…Peking duck,” he suggested, his lips tilting up.
