Page 76 of Wild Love
She’s at the door when she turns to face me, her hands pressing against the wood behind her. “What’s not safe?”
“What happened last night. You and me. There’s West. I’m your boss. You deserve a safe work environment. It’s… not a safe bet.”
She nods, but the motion is lined with agitation at the mention of her brother. “Right, well, I should go say goodbye to mysafe betbefore he leaves.” She spears me with her blue eyes. “See you Monday.”
Then she salutes me and walks out the door without another word.
I don’t work at all. I throw on my swim trunks and torture myself in the cold lake, swimming between the new dock and Rosie’s dock. And I swear I can feel her gaze on me the entire time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ROSIE
It’s Monday.Ryan is gone. Willa is gone. And I’m obsessing over stupid, bitchy Ford and how to act around him now that I know he wants to kiss me while also coming to terms with the fact that Iwantto be kissed by stupid, bitchy Ford.
My period is also due to start any day now, and I feel like my insides are trying to carve their way out of my body by way of my lower abdomen.
Basically, my headspace is trash, and my body is a traitor.
So, as any mature young professional would do, I resort to taking it out on my boss and harassing him via email. I tell myself it’s allowed because he forced my hand by refusing to make eye contact with me from across the room.
Good morning, Mr. Grant Jr.,
I’ve officially heard back from three experts whocan come to complete the recording booth. Their prices and timelines are broken down in the attached spreadsheet with my completely unprofessional opinions noted in the margins. Truly, one guy cannot be trusted. He requested that I order him chicken wings for lunch every single day (which, fair, I’d love that too), but only the drumsticks, not the wings. It’s alarming because the wings are clearly the superior piece of meat. To me, that proves he lacks any modicum of taste, and as such, I wouldn’t let him near this place, because it’s finally looking pretty great.
I hope you had an incredibly safe Sunday.
Making eye contact with you from across the room,
Rosalie Belmont
Business Manager at Safety First Records
When I hear the email ping from across the office, I try not to smirk. Instead, I pick up my agenda and doodle a dick on Monday, so it looks like I’m keeping track of something particularly important.
The sound of his fingers on the keyboard filters back to me, and when I glance up, his eyes are focused on his screen. I push the dick out of my way and decide to work on responding to the info email account for Rose Hill Records—most of which is barf-worthy fan mail for the World’s Hottest Billionaire.
Good morning, Rosalie,
I appreciate your feedback on these options. I took a moment to scan the attached sheet. I believe that as my safety mascot and business manager, you are more than capable of selecting the best candidate for this job. Surely, the drumstick guy is a no—absolutely cannot be trusted.
Have a happy day!
Ford Grant CEO and Producer at Safety First Records
P.S. I can see the dick you drew in your planner from here.
My eyes flit to where the planner has moved up toward the corner of my desk. Ford watches me openly now. I suppose he can see it with his height advantage. Or possibly because I made it extra bold by outlining it more than once. I shrug, turn the spiral-bound book toward me, add a sizable splash of cum erupting from the head, and hold it up to Ford.
He stares back at me blankly now, but I swear I see his cheek twitch.
I toss him a thumbs-up and get back to my email.
Mr. Ford Grant Jr.,
I’m so glad you enjoy my art. I call this piece “My Boss is a ,” ink on paper, by Rosalie Belmont.
Each droplet of the added jizz stream represents the lies that he tells himself.
