Page 387 of Savage Bosses

“Taking a break,” Tatianna yelled after handing the plate off.

Before anyone could say anything to her, she pulled her apron off and rushed to the back room. After hanging her apron up in its usual spot, she went into the break room, unlocked her locker, and pulled out her phone. Sitting down at one of the small tables, she unlocked her phone and opened her web browser.

She needed to vent. And there was only one place she could vent without risking losing her job or being called unprofessional. And that was on theBoss Be DamnedWebsite. Julia showed her the website last year. She wasn’t sure who’d created it, but it was a Godsend. The ladies in those chat rooms were saving her money on therapy.

She logged into her favorite chat room,Just Chef’ing Around. It was a room where other workers from the culinary world could gather and vent. Today, she really needed to vent. She read through posts others had recently added and responded to a few.

It helped to know that she wasn’t the only person who sometimes hated their coworkers. There was one post that caught her immediate attention. The person was using the screen name PastryBlues064. No one used their real names. It was against the rules.

PastryBlues064:The owner of the bakery I work at is dating one of my coworkers. But he’s married. Sometimes, his wife comes to the job looking for him. Lately, he and his side chick go out for lunch together. Today, his wife came looking for him and was upset when I told her I didn’t know where he was. She slapped me. Although I wanted to beat her ass, I didn’t. I held it together and called mall security to escort her out. (Our bakery is located in a strip mall.) Anyway, when my boss got back, I told him what happened. This bastard got angry with me for calling security on his wife. He told me to just come up with a good lie for him next time and not to call security on his wife again. He didn’t address the slap. He didn’t apologize for her. He didn’t say he’d handle it or that he’d tell her not to come up there again. None of that. He told me to think of a lie for him. I already know she’s going to come tomorrow during lunch. I don’t feel comfortable lying for him. But I need this job. What should I do?

Tatianna read through the responses. Some of them were ridiculous, like the one that said,get your friends to jump her.Well, that wasn’t that ridiculous. Still, violence was never the answer. Then again, if someone slapped Tatianna, her natural reaction would be to slap their ass back. She wouldn’t even have time to think about it.

It would just happen automatically, which was why she was thankful that no one at work had ever tried her in that way.Knock on wood. She tapped on the table. Other responses to the question ranged from slapping her back to quitting. Tatianna was sure none of those was what PastryBlues064 was looking for. Tatianna typed in her advice.

ChefSweetTea01: I would call mall security and have them come to the bakery daily during lunch. But that’s not feasible in the long run. I’d start looking for another job in the meantime. After I’d found one, I would tell her exactly where he was. Until then, I would make it clear to her that he doesn’t tell me where he goes for lunch, and I’m not her punching bag. I would even ask her if she wanted to wait for him to return and let her catch him with the other woman. No matter what you decide to do, please don’t become someone’s punching bag. You deserve better! I know it’s hard to find jobs these days. But they are out there. Start looking because it’s clear your boss is not going to stand up for you.

Just as Tatianna pressed send, her pager dinged. She was needed in the kitchen.Break over.She hadn’t even had time to write her own complaint and get advice on theBoss Be Damnedwebsite.Oh well.She’d send it tonight. She definitely needed advice on dealing with a coworker who had a crush on her and wouldn’t let it go.

Grabbing her apron from the hanging rack, she returned to the kitchen. As the night wore on, Tatianna threw herself into her work, determined to push aside her work issues and concentrate on her culinary art. Shoving away thoughts of Marco was easy. But every movement, every taste, seemed to remind her of Bryce’s whispered words, creating a deliciously maddening dance within her heart.

Tatianna’s heart raced. Beads of sweat formed on her brow. The heat from the ovens and stovetops seemed to intensify with each beat of her racing heart. Bryceson’s words echoed in her mind, sending shivers down her spine despite the sweltering atmosphere. A week. She hadn’t felt his tongue on her in an entire week.

“Hey, Tati,” Marco interrupted her thoughts, his eyes narrowing as he observed her flushed cheeks. “Everything okay?”

“Y-yeah,” she stammered, forcing herself to focus on the sizzling pans in front of her.

Each stir of the spoon, each flip of a fillet only served to remind her of the hunger she’d heard in Bryceson’s voice. It brought back memories of him flipping her onto her stomach so he could fuck her from behind. Damn, he hadn’t been inside of her in a full week.Ugh! Stop thinking about it, Tati!

“Table eight needs their shrimp scampi,” the head chef barked, pulling Tatianna’s thoughts back to the present.

“Got it,” she replied, tossing the plump shrimp in a pan of garlic and butter.

The aroma filled her nostrils, but all she could think about was the scent of Bryceson’s cologne that had lingered as he’d whispered those tantalizing words. It was a shame how addicted she was to her man. She should probably be embarrassed, but she wasn’t. He was equally addicted to her.

“Hey!” Marco snapped, causing her to jump.

“What?” Tatianna yelled, tired of Marco’s incessant chatter.

Jealousy flickered in his eyes as he watched her.

“You need to get your head in the game. We’re slammed tonight.”

“Which is why I’m working. You should be doing the same,” she told him, her fingers trembling as she plated the dish. He was pissing her off. And if he kept this up, he was going to see a different side of her.

“Seriously, Tati. You’ve been spacing out. What’s going on?” he pressed.

“Go away, Marco,” she whispered.

His glare would frighten others in the kitchen. Not her. They’d gone to school together. She knew he was more bark than bite. She’d turned him down over a dozen times over the years. But he still couldn’t seem to get the picture.

“Listen,” he started. “If having him visit you here is going to affect your work, then maybe you should tell him he’s not welcome here.”

This motherfucker!

“Marco, from now on, if it’s not about work, don’t say shit to me.”

The room seemed to go quiet. Even the oil in the pans stopped sizzling. At least, that’s what it felt like.

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