Shit. I did, yes. To see if he had a girlfriend. He doesn’t.
“What’s the cat’s name?” I ask, not-so-subtly changing the subject.
“Hername is Princess Twilight Sparkle,” he answers. I offer him a dubious look, thinking he’s messing with me again. “She’s my little sister’s, who’s off to college. I still have two years with Princess Twilight Sparkle.”
“I see …”
Silence settles between us, but he’s quick to fill it again. “What do I get in exchange for the favor?”
“Well, I don’t know. Do you have something in mind?”
He thinks about it for a moment. “I like to eat, and I’m free Friday.”
“Then I’ll invite you for dinner on Friday evening. I still don’t know the good spots in Seattle, so you’ll have to help me pick a place.”
“I thought I’d invite you, actually,” he corrects me.
“But I’m the one thanking you, not the other way around.”
“I don’t want our first date to be about repaying a debt.”
His confidence surprises me, making my cheeks flush as my heartbeat hastens. The white knight in shining armor, the funny, smart, gentle Oli, wants a date with me. Here I am, having wet dreams about our boss, and he’s planning our first date.
For once, I’ll listen to good sense. Oliver is perfect for me in many ways, and there’s no reason things wouldn’t work out. We’ll go on a date, things will be great, he’ll be perfect, and for the first time in my life, I’ll end up falling in love with someone.
“Alright, Friday, then,” I boldly state. “We’ll find another way for me to repay you.”
As I turn back to my desk, I see the guys quickly resuming their tasks, proving they were following my exchange with Oliver rather than working. Hmm, maybe we should have been a little more discreet about this.
Only Brian isn’t pretending not to care, opening his mouth to say something. “Shut up, Brian,” I say with a teasing smile, silencing him before he can speak.
Thanks to Oli’s help, I make momentous progress on my app in the following days. By Thursday, I feel confident enough to show it to him during our lunch break. He’s more than impressed by what I created, and just like Tami, he insists that I must show it to our boss.
“We tried and failed to do what you did a few years back,” Oli explains. “Lex will lose his mind when he sees how well you’ve done alone. You can be sure he’ll never treat you like a newbie again.”
The idea of showing my arrogant boss what I’m capable of is tempting. I’m not one to brag or show off, but giving the pretentious genius proof that I’m as good as him, if not maybe better for this project in particular, would definitely feel great.
We’ve agreed to some kind of truce, and wanting to put him back in his place is wrong, but I can’t help it. Weeks later, I’m still not over the fact that he thought I was a fraud on my first day here. Even though he apologized, I’m still pretty confident he’s an asshole.
I’ve been avoiding him like the plague because every time I see him, I’m reminded of those fantasies I conjure whenever I take Idris out. This silent treatment is bad for our boss-employee relationship, but strategically, it makes sense. I can’t help but think about his dreamed dick inside me, his voice whispering sensuous things to me, his warm mouth pleasing me… I daydream about it sometimes, absentmindedly staring at him when he’s downstairs with us. He caught me doing it once, and the shame that invaded me turned my face crimson. Being constantly reminded that I find my boss attractive is frankly unfair.
“I’ll give myself one more evening to work on it,” I tell Oli. “Then it should be good enough.”
“Trust me, he’ll be impressed. You might even get a compliment out of him. Last time three of us were working on it, and we worked for about four months, full time, to not even reach a quarter of what you’ve accomplished.”
Alright, then… My app may be enough as it is. Tomorrow, Alexander Coleman will learn a lesson.
I work late into the evening to polish the app, which isn’t optimal. I have my first date with Oli tomorrow, and I’ll look like shit for it. But I’m proud of the improvements I made, even though I’m slowlyreaching the limits of my means. Hopefully, showing it to Alexander will change that.
The first thing I do when I arrive at work the next day is send a message to our boss using the internal messaging app. My fingers tremble the whole time I type it, my heart drumming against my ribs.
Andrea Walker: Good morning. If you have a moment today, I’d love to show you something I’ve been working on.
He answers a few minutes later with his usual dryness.
Alexander Coleman: I’ll see if I can find the time.
I spend my morning anxiously waiting for a message offering me to come up. The longer it takes to arrive, the more stressed I am about it.
