Page 12 of Unbossly Manners

Brody was an intern. I was his superior. Not by much, but I was a full-time employee, and he was only there for the summer, but my gut sensed he felt he had the upper hand. Which was weird. Why would he think that? Because he was fucking one of the owners?

I was still concerned that there could some sort of sexual harassment going on since Isaac was his boss, but this message made me less concerned.

Don’t say anything.

I was prickled but then another message came through.

Please.

Hmm. This was interesting. Was he scared? Had he been forced into this? If so, I shouldn’t stay quiet.

I searched for the sexual harassment document on my email that I’d had to read and sign when I’d been hired. Employees were allowed to have consensual romantic relationships, but they had to report it to HR before a relationship could commence or risk being fired.

Have you told HR?

Yes. So you don’t need to say anything.

Fuckity fuck. My head was spinning. I’d figure out what to do tomorrow. I wanted to go to bed.

Don’t worry about it.

He’d probably read that as me consenting to stay quiet, but I wasn’t. I was still swimming in the mess from tonight and didn’t want to dive further into an intern’s mess too.

I lay down and forgot about Brody and Isaac.

My mind wandered and landed back on Chip’s verbal assaults. They circled my mind, making it hard to sleep. I wish I had the confidence that every other woman in this city seemed to exude. I wanted to be a badass in all things.

I know real life wasn’t an episode of Sex and The City or Gossip Girl or the fab lives shown on IG or TikTok, but fuck… it felt like it sometimes. This city pulsed with self-assurance, and if you didn’t have it, it would eat you up and spit you out.

My mother was confident and self-possessed and wore her sexuality with pride. She had no shame and spoke openly about her boyfriends and lovers. She’d never been a one-man kind of woman.

In the early 90s and 00s, she’d been a star on a major soap opera. My dad was a cameraman on her show. When I was born, my dad wanted to settle down, get married, and have a perfect little family.

My mom wanted none of it. Except me. She always doted on me. But she was honest with my father. She didn’t want to get married. To him or anyone. Marriage would’ve suffocated her.

His ego couldn’t take it and he left. I only saw him once a year until he passed away from pancreatic cancer when I was six.

I admired my mom. She was fierce and owned her independence. Where the hell was that gene in me? It must have skipped a generation. The only thing I felt confident about was my work.

Kat’s suggestion of using Jackson ran across my tired mind. I shook it out of my head. It was an insane idea.

As I drifted off to sleep, halfway into dreamland, I saw myself kneeling in front of a man, but it wasn’t Chip’s cock pressing against the telling spandex fabric.

It was Jackson’s.

six

When I woke up, I forgot where I was for a second before last night came crashing down on me like a bad hangover along with an actual hangover.

I rolled over and glanced at a messy bookcase, overstuffed with books and trinkets. I shot up.

OMG. Was I really staying at Jackson Rhodes’ ex-wife’s place? Had she really pimped him out to me? Did I dream about his cock?

Yes. Yes. And yes.

My head pounded, and then the worst memories came rushing back. The reason I was at Kat’s apartment.

Watch your fucking teeth.

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