Caught by the Boss

18

LEILA

I wake up feeling tired. My face puffy and aching. My blurry eyes find the clock. 12PM. The bottle of wine I finished is on the floor beside the couch, dripping it's last few drops.

I groan and rub my head, standing up like a zombie and throwing back pain medication and all the water I can fit in my belly. Then I get into the bathtub and stay under the hot spray for half an hour.

I can't do this all day. Can't afford to sit in self pity when my bills are dancing, having a party as they prepare to stab me in the back.

I need to apply for jobs.

After my shower, I don't have energy to comb my hair so it sits in an ugly messy bun. I probably have enough knots to sacrifice a finger.

I change into an oversized shirt and shorts, and I moan as I sit on the couch. I should have breakfast, but I don't have much of an appetite. I guess that's what happens when life guts you.

The sun is shining outside, but the sound of the birds chirping only makes my head pound harder.

How do the Disney Princesses do it?

I've become an ogre. Both in style and character. I wonder why the hell it feels like I've just had a breakup. I was never official with anyone but Grace. She was my friend and completely blindsided me.

But Hector slash Henry? Sure, I gave him some of my most intimate memories, but we were never boyfriend and girlfriend. There was never a promise of a future there.

A knock comes from the door, and I cringe at the sound. I consider picking up the empty wine bottle to seek revenge.

I approach the door and look out the peephole. There's a man in a grey uniform holding a large bouquet of flowers.

Don't tell me...

I open the door, and he keeps his eyes on his notepad as he asks, "Leila?"

"Yes?"

"Here you go." He thrusts them forward, and I instinctively clutch them.

The delivery man walks off and turns the corner, never looking back even as I call out.

I close the door with my foot, setting the arrangement on my coffee table. I stare at the thing helplessly. Roses. Dozens and dozens of roses, just like the ones he had me order for Grace.

Way to rub salt on the wound.

I can't keep them. Staring at them—their healthy, bright red, makes me want to get lost in the red of another wine bottle.

There's no note attached, as if he knew I didn't want to hear from him right now. But the roses practically scream at me. Memories of the pain, the betrayal and embarrassment.

I won't be able to get my mind off these people so long as these flowers dominate my coffee table. I need space. I need oxygen, and not have to share them with these roses.

I unlock my phone and search for places to donate them. I don't think a funeral home would appreciate them. But hey, maybe the local strip club can make it rain roses on the hard working girls.

I send the place a text and wait for their response. Then, I lay back on the couch and fight this headache for the next thirty minutes.

Later that day, when I no longer feel like I'm dying, I drop off the flowers. Getting fresh air on my walk helps me. It's soothing. A promise of better days. Days where I won't remember any of this.

I stop by a Chinese restaurant to eat, because I know I wont touch my kitchen today. I bring the leftovers home for dinner, scrolling for job postings on my phone as I walk home.

It might be in my mind, but I swear the waiter checked me out when I was at the restaurant. Funny how men show their interest when I'm least available. Hell, I'm so emotionally traumatized that I'll be out of the dating pool for months.

I look out for any parked luxury cars. Because Hector might still be stalking me. And running into him will only make me regurgitate the food I just ate.

I'm surprised he hasn't tried to text me from a new number. The man could buy a whole phone company if he wanted to, just to have unrestricted access to me.

When the coast is clear, I go upstairs to my apartment. I toss the leftovers in the fridge and turn on the television. Maybe finding a new show to binge watch will make me forget about my own drama.

The news channel comes on. I'm just about to change it, when a very fucking familiar face appears on the screen. I nearly drop the remote control.

Hector is haunting me.

I raise the volume and listen to the news anchor's report.

"A significant drop in the stock price of Silver Stone has left investors scrambling. In an official report, the company revealed a recent data leak of their latest Machine; an immersive device used for world simulations. The shocking news was followed by the CEO's declaration of stepping down, reportedly for personal reasons. His absence during the company's vulnerable state is questioned by many. Tablets have captured him with an unknown red-headed woman, raising the question if she's the reason why the business magnate is stepping down. In other news..."

He's abandoning his title?! Now?! No!

I unlock my phone and look up the stock. Surely enough, the stock is down significantly since yesterday. The line is an alarming red. And the trajectory doesn't seem to want to stop.

I don't understand. Why would he walk away from the company when they mostly need him? There are thousands of employees that depend on the company's success. And only he could fix this. He's brilliant. He's the man who raised that building brick by brick right out of college. He never told me this, but the internet has his success set in stone.

I'm sure Grace is thrilled that the tabloids have captured her, but they have it wrong. He's not walking away from the company because of her. It's me.

Guilt and panic dizzy me. I feel like I'm hung over again. Suffocating, drowning in the oversized clothes that I wear.

I need to convince him to go back. Maybe that was his tactic all along. To get me to call him, because he knows I care too much to watch the company go under. It doesn't matter. I loved the accounting department. I loved the few coworkers I got to meet. They have families to support.

With my bottom lip chewed between my teeth, I unblock that crazy, infuriating man, and I press the call button.

The line rings... and rings... and rings. And then he picks up.

"Leila?" He breathes, his voice shocked.

I release my lip. "Come see me."

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