Page 27 of Boss with Benefits

Please accept this as notice that I'll no longer be working for Dreamary. Thank you for the opportunity but I must focus on other things. R

14

RACHEL

It had been two weeks since I told Derrick I was done with Dreamary. Two weeks since he diminished me on the subway platform, and I was still furious.

She's not worth our time…

I’d sent him a text later that night telling him that I was done working for him. It had been rash, but I thought he'd realize his mistake and beg me to come back. But that didn't happen. He had responded with one sentence,I’ll pass this on to HR. And then radio silence.

Well, he could take his company and shove it.

Except…I regretted sending the text. I regretted quitting. I'd been impulsive and short-sighted. My plan had failed before it began. I liked working there. I liked the people. And I really needed the job for the extra money.

My mom's boss, the NICU medical director, had emailed me and asked me to contact her if I needed anything else and to confirm the trip.

I hadn't been able to bring myself to respond and tell the director that it wasn't going to happen. I’d screwed up.

I was at the Pilates studio, thinking about all this as I walked the last client out the door before I closed up. I was distracted, and the door stuck as I tried to pull it shut. Groaning, I tugged harder, until I realized someone's foot was shoved between the doorframe and the door, preventing me from closing it.

"Hey!" I hollered, stumbling back, ready to snatch my taser from behind the desk until I saw who it was.

Derrick stepped into the doorway, his large frame blocking out the evening light. "Can I come in?"

"Uh, sure." I stepped back.

My heartbeat sped up, but I nonchalantly walked through the studio, shutting down the computer, fixing the reformers, and turning off the music, Derrick following behind me.

I chewed my lip, trying to control the nervous anticipation about why he was there. I was hoping he was there to apologize and offer me my job back. The Pilates studio had become stale, and these past two weeks had shown me how over this job I was.

"Are you going to tell me why you're here?" I asked, adjusting one of the reformers. "Or just follow me around like a creeper."

"Since you've ignored all my messages, this was my only recourse," he said, unmoved.

I spun around. "You haven't sent me any messages."

"I sent half a dozen."

I mentally palmed her forehead, remembering. The moment after he’d sent his frustrating reply, I’d been so furious I’d silenced him on all my devices.

My phone was under the desk, and I grabbed it, opening my messages and searching his name. And there they were. A row of texts, each one becoming more insistent and concerned. My stomach flipped, relieved.

Maybe my plan had worked.

"Sorry. I didn't think you'd be contacting me again," I said.

"So you blocked me?" Derrick asked.

I shrugged, trying to portray a calm demeanor, but inside my emotions were running hot, and I couldn't think clearly. I wanted to work for him again. I wanted to say I was sorry. I wanted him to not hate me. But I didn't know where to start.

"You know, you were the one in the wrong," Derrick said. "Not me."

I opened my mouth to shoot back an angry retort, but that's what had gotten me in trouble in the first place. Instead, I bought time and ducked into the back office to grab my belt bag. I slung it diagonally across my chest and walked back to the small lobby where Derrick waited.

"Look, I'm sorry. Is that what you want to hear?" I asked.

"Yes," he said simply.

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