Page 4 of Bossing My Holiday
2
TRISTAN
Despite popular sentiment about me, I don’t hate the holidays. They’re just not my favorite time of the year. The forced merriment and cheer. The insipid Christmas songs you can’t get out of your head that make you want to tear every speaker in every store you walk into out, so you never have to hear them again. The kids crying and whining, begging for this toy and that toy, and screaming every time they see a man dressed in a ridiculous red suit.
I know what you’re thinking. He’s a Scrooge and completely misses out on the point of the holidays and all the joy and togetherness they bring. You’re wrong on the first part. I’m not a Scrooge. I’m just a realist and able to see them for what they are. A charade of love that’s actually a Hallmark holiday card notion we buy in the hopes of making it a reality.
Whatever. It’s all fine and good. Just not my thing. I love my family, and I love seeing them over the holidays, but just because it’s fucking Christmas, it doesn’t mean shit in the real world still doesn’t have to get done, and it doesn’t mean I have to be jolly like fucking Santa.
When Braxton and I first started OuestHicks Pharmaceuticals,I came up with the idiotic notion of closing the company for a week between Christmas and New Year’s to give our staff a break—see, not a Scrooge—and force myself to go home when I knew I’d never do it otherwise.
But this year, we’re in the middle of acquiring a new company that requires a lot of handholding and negotiation, and with that, there’s still a fuck ton of work to get done for it. The thought of the office closing as of this weekend gives me hives.
Thomas, the little twit intern who doesn’t know his ass from his elbow, emailed the wrong presentation to everyone, including the Smithfield team. I spent my morning putting out his fire and reassuring them that everything was in order. Then I fired him. It was the final straw with him as far as I was concerned. He’d made a similar mistake before, emailing the board and stakeholders earnings projections from the year before.
Thomas is only one part of my foul mood.
The other is my too-pretty-for-my-own-good assistant, smiling and laughing with Brax in a way she never does with me. Probably because I’m a dick, and if that temperament hadn’t already been hard-won around here, with Waverly it’s not as though I have a choice in the matter. Being a dick keeps her far away from me, which is exactly where I need her to be.
Regardless of that, it should have been Waverly putting out those fires this morning. Not me. As much as I hate to admire her cheeky ways and impudent mouth, at least she’s normally two steps ahead of everything. Today was the exception, and it was not the day for it.
Then she had to come barreling in not only late but like a bat out of hell with her asshole spray and hot pink vibrator, and once again I found myself thinking about things a boss shouldn’t think about. ThingsIshouldn’t think about. Now Brax is hiring her to work for him, and though I wanted toargue it, I couldn’t. It made too much sense, and I didn’t exactly have a valid reason to veto it.
“This is quite the promotion.”
She’s incredulous. I’m annoyed. Brax is happier than a pig in shit because he has no problems admitting he wants Waverly. He has for two years since she started here. Even if he never intends to act on it, same as me. I retake my seat and scoot in behind my desk.
“Yes, but don’t look so nervous. I’m a piece of cake to work for compared to that one. And we’re giving you a sizable raise to go along with the jump in workload.”
Her eyes brighten. “Okay. Um. That’s amazing. Wow. Thank you for believing in my work and abilities. I won’t let you down.” Her eyelashes flutter at him, and I find my jaw clenching. “This role will begin after the first of the year?”
“Yes,” I tell her. “After the winter break. Brax and I will be in Paris closing the deal, so you’ll be able to go home as you normally would.”
A look I can’t distinguish crosses her face. Something that almost resembles heartache. “Great.” Only I’m not sure if she means it.
“Waverly, I texted Jasmine to buy you a new outfit for the meeting. While you’re waiting on that, how about you go make sure we have the correct PowerPoint ready following Thomas’s debacle?”
Her smile slips into its usual mien for me. “Absolutely. And thank you again for your confidence in me. It means everything.”
Without another word, she turns and leaves, and I scrub my hands up and down my face. “This is a mistake,” I grumble.
“Not a mistake. She’s the best admin we’ve had in this company since we started it twelve years ago. She’s smart, ambitious, sweet, and friendly with staff, customers, and other businesses, and she handles your shit in a way no one else can.”
“You mean other than you.”
“Other than me,” he concedes. “Besides, this wouldn’t be the first time we’ve enjoyed sharing a woman.”
My hands fall to my lap. The way he says that is why this is a bad fucking idea.
Our sharing women started in college one drunken night. When we discovered we liked it, that it strangely felt right in a way neither of us could explain, it continued on and off until I met my now ex-wife. After our divorce was finalized three years ago, it picked back up from time to time, but not as it once was. Brax lives a bachelor playboy existence because he can’t fuck the one woman he truly wants, and I vowed after my ex not to get involved with anyone again, much to the horror and dismay of my family.
But I had a bad feeling in my gut that when he suggested Waverly become his too, he was speaking in more ways than one. It’s not that I want Brax to be alone or miserable. It’s that we can’t lose Waverly, and Brax, once he gets the girl and the chase is over, has never been serious about anyone for longer than a few months. I’m protecting Waverly, but I’m also protecting our company.
“This is not like that,” I tell him.
“I know, I know, but I think we’re both man enough to admit that if Waverly were anyone else, we’d be all over her.”
“Stop that right now,” I tell him. “She’s not like that.”
