Page 22 of Boss with Benefits

“I shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t appropriate.” Then I added, “It won’t happen again.”

She reached into her backpack and flung a plastic spoon at me.

“Hey!” I dodged it, and it barely missed my head, clanging to the floor. “What the hell, Rachel.”

“You tell me, Derrick. You’re being a total jerk.”

“I’m being professional.”

“Oh, right.” Rachel snorted. “Like this place has ever been professional.”

“What does that mean?”

“Let’s see...first there’s the whole corporate sabotage that almost brought you down, two of your colleagues engaged in some sort of sexual tutoring thing with each other, and”—Rachel’s voice had hitched up with each accusation, and her cheeks were red, fire in every word—"you hooked up with one of your employees. But since you can’t get it up—" Rachel halted, her hand slamming against her mouth. “Oh, shit.”

I flew out of my chair, my face so hot it felt like it was on fire.

“Get out!” I screamed, my body shaking from the shock of her words, the embarrassment of her knowing this mortifying information.

Rachel’s eyes were wide, horrified.

“Out!”

“I’m sorry. Fuck, Derrick, I didn’t mean...”

“How did you—no, don’t tell me. “

Lexi. Fucking Lexi. Or was it Peyton? Would she have said something after all this time?

My jaw was so tight, a headache pulsed in my temple. My fingers gripped the edge of my desk. I wanted to flip it over and punch the fucking wall. But I kept it raging inside, glaring daggers at Rachel. Hating her right then. Hating what she knew.

“Get out,” I ground out.

Rachel backed away, her hand fumbling for the door handle.

“There’s nothing wrong with?—”

“OUT!”

All color sapped from her face, and she scrambled out the door. I stood behind my desk, every tendon in my body coiled tight.

I stayed in my office all day until every light was out and every employee gone. Needing to get all this pent-up anger out, I changed into the running clothes I kept at the office and sprinted the mile and a half home.

My mind raced with disjointed thoughts as my feet pounded the pavement and I dodged pedestrians. Should I fire her? Would that be ethical? Why would she say that shit? How did she know? Who told her? How could someone so clever have absolutely no fucking tact? And how could I ever face her again?

Exhausted, I showered and heated up last night’s takeout. In my living room, I sank into the leather sofa and stared at the streetlamps outside my tall windows and wondered what the fuck I was going to do about Rachel Arya.

12

RACHEL

"Ihate him."

"Who?" Eva asked. "The stalker?"

"Asshat Derrick."

We were at the Pilates studio. The last class had ended ten minutes ago. I was wiping down the reformers as Eva repositioned the springs at the front of the machines.

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