Page 88 of The Boss

I reach into my wallet and pull out all the Japanese bills I possess. I have no idea how much it is. I only hope that handing it to her doesn’t insult her.

She looks between me and my outstretched hand, confused. She probably thinks I want her to stick the money in her orifices.

“This is for you coming out here. I’m not interested in your services tonight. But feel free to charge the full amount.”

She cocks her head, the look in her eyes accepting my challenge. “I’m very excellent, ma’am.” She erotically sticks out her tongue. I don’t have to ask what she means.

“I’m sure you’re one of the best in the city.”

“Oh, I am.”

But she still isn’t better than Alessa.

“Please. Take it. Consider it my patronage for the night.”

Eventually, the young escort accepts my wad of bills and shows herself out of my suite.

I sit on the edge of my bed, head in my hands. I don’t care how beautiful, how talented, how good at faking it that woman was. I’m sure she would’ve been the best sex worker I’ve ever slept with. But what’s the point if I’m only doing it to forget Alessa?

How could I forget her?

Perhaps it’s my drunken brain. Perhaps it’s nothing more than my heart refusing to break and crack. Because if it does, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to recover from it.

That’s it. The moment I get back to Portland, I’m proving to Alessa that she’s the only one for me.

As soon as I sleep this drunken mess out of my system. I’ll formulate a plan on the plane ride home.

Chapter 43

Alessa

All I can say about my current predicament is this: Cher is a persuasive woman when you’re feeling super down and liable to believe anything someone tells you.

If you ask me? This was her plan all along. Not long after I stormed out of Ms. Bradford’s house, Cher showed up at my place, equally outraged. With a few well-timed tears, she told me she couldn’t continue her relationship with Ms. Bradford any longer. Two days later, we filed a lawsuit against Bradford & Marcon, citing sexual harassment and other misconduct.

See, when I talked to HR at the beginning of my relationship? It was a tenuous agreement that completely hinged on me not saying anything negative enough to spark legal proceedings. After all, I was dating my boss. But once I decided to go ahead with a suit, everything fell apart for Julianna and Ms. Bradford. Our lawyer thinks they’ll settle out of court to keep this from blowing up and ruining their image. Cher and I are looking athefty checks that will pay our bills for a long, long time if we manage the money right.

The thought makes me sick. If it was money I truly wanted, I could’ve stayed with Julianna. At first, I convinced myself that was all I cared about. The money, that is. Because without that job or prestigious internship, I’m looking at a long road after I graduate.

It’s not the money I want. It’s Julianna.

I’m such a basket case! What a classic example of a woman who falls for the first person she sleeps with. Even after discovering the disgusting truth, I still want her. What’s wrong with me? Am I that pathetic?

That woman only slept with me because of a stupid bet. While I knew deep down that our relationship was a short-term farce that would eventually come to a heartbreaking end, I never in a million years imagined it would be something as cruel as that!

Can anyone blame me? One day, when I sit down and write a tell-all memoir of this time in my life, readers will chide me for walking out on a woman for doing what people like her do. Of course, they play with others.Of course,they use us for as long as they want before sending us on our way so they can bone a younger model. Of course they do! Rich, hot people get away with anything!

We’re expected to go along with it. Because they’re hot, rich people and we should feel special that they chose us, even if for a short time.

Well, Julianna Marcon didn’t choose me. Ms. Bradford did. Ordered me up like I was an escort fit for a billionaire. I can’t even be flattered. How disgusting.

Naturally, Julianna came after me. Joke was on her, though. Aside from my phone – and I blocked her, thank you – she couldn’t get through to me because I packed up and temporarily moved in with Cher. Her parents put her up in a cute one-bedroom apartment in NW Portland. Even crashing on her couch hasn’t been that bad.

She said it was a good idea because Julianna would try to talk me out of everything, and if we’re staying together, she can help protect me. Likewise, I could help stop her from going back to Ms. Bradford.

Interestingly enough, Julianna has made repeated attempts to contact me, but as far as I know, Ms. Bradford hasn’t done anything. I almost feel bad for Cher.

Lesson learned, I guess. Maybe my next girlfriend will…

---