Page 36 of Heartless Boss
“If you’re going to add all of that, make sure you write ‘But I love his giant dick.’”
I shake my head and pretend like I’m actually putting real thought into this. “I’m not going to tell lies.”
“It doesn’t have to be a lie, Rainbow. My dick is open like a twenty-four-hour grocery store. You can have access to it any time you want.” Lust pours into the depths of his eyes. And my vagina clenches at his words, and all of a sudden I feel like my skin is on fire, my ovaries are ready to explode. Does he have to keep turning me on—and of all places, at a restaurant?
“What happened to not wanting to sleep with your employee?” I tilt my head to the side.
“You don’t strike me as a vindictive bitch, so I’ll break my rule.”
“Come again?” This conversation went from playful to serious real quick.
“I fucked one of my employees, and when I dumped her ass, she threatened to sue me for sexual harassment. I had to pay her money out the ass to keep her trap shut about our relationship.”
“Oh,” is all I can say, really. Because I haven’t heard that floating around the break room. Wolf is a lot of things. Cruel, check. Male slut. Check. But after living with him for a month, he doesn’t strike me as a man who goes around sexually harassing women. At home, he always knocks on the bathroom and bedroom door and asks me if I’m fully dressed before he enters. I caught him a few times checking out my breasts or butt, but he never touched me inappropriately or in a way I didn’t like. And I feel safe around him, like he’s my security blanket.
I dig into my burger even though it burns my tongue. My mouth forms the letterOas I try to blow on it, and I grab my glass of Coke and wash it down.
We eat our food in silence, but chatter from other customers fills the air.
My mind ventures to this so-called business trip. And how for the first time in forever I’m able to let down my hair and not worry about bills or stress out about money.
It feels good to be able to breathe for once, go with the flow, and not worry about what tomorrow brings.
The waitress brings us our bill and asks, “This bill is together or separate?”
“Together,” I tell her. I made sure to transfer five hundred dollars from my saving to my checking, so I’ll be able to cover our food. Gunner reaches for his wallet in his pocket, and I place my hand over his. “I got it.”
He’s already done more for me than anyone else in my life, the least I can do is pay for his meals.
“No, Gia. I’m the man. I should be paying.” His face is serious.
“No, let me do something nice for you, please.” I dig into my purse and hand the waitress my debit card.
“Thanks.” Surprise flickers on his face, and his smile feels like he’s kissing me in the rain on a summer day.
“You’re welcome.”
“No, I really mean it. Thanks. Most women I fuck tend to expect me to pay for everything. I don’t mind. I was raised to take care of women, but sometimes that shit gets old real quick when it isn’t appreciated and instead expected.” He scoots the crumbs from the table in his hand and dumps it on his empty plate. “Most women care about what’s in my pocket more than me.”
Sadness seeps through my pores. This explains why he’s so closed off toward women. I’m a little surprised he’s confiding in me because Gunner isn’t the sharing type.
Before I can respond, the waitress brings back the receipt; I sign it and leave her a ten-dollar tip.
“You ready to go?” he asks, getting up from the table.
“Yeah.”
* * *
The aquarium is packed with families and teenagers. We stroll through a long tunnel surrounded by sea creatures in different colors, shapes, and sizes.
I have Gunner take pictures of me touching a few stingrays in shallow water. We watch a dolphin show. I should have brought a jacket because it’s freezing in the building. Gunner entwines his fingers with mine the entire time. Weirdly, I don’t mind. His touch feels wild and free. I haven’t held hands with a guy in a long time.
I take pictures of everything. He asks me what made me get into photography and I tell him about how my mom loved it and that I want to capture every good moment in my life. Because when bad moments hit, I want to be reminded of the good. We stop by the souvenir shop, and he buys me a stuffed orca.
After we leave the aquarium, we head to a car show and stroll around checking out different cars ranging from the sixties to the present. Different brightly colored cars are lined up in a row. The place is flooded with men and boys.
I even see a car that I want to buy. It’s a white Volkswagen, a Beetle, and it’s decked out with cream leather seats and a colorful dashboard with a sunroof. I’ve been wanting a new car for some time now.
