Falling for My Boss

“You can trust me, Elizabeth,” he said and frowned. “No need to be acting all hifalutin on me now. You know you’ll get your money.”

“I want a stack of twenties in my hand.” I pursed my lips and put my hands on my hips. “Without them, I don’t take this job.”

“I can get someone else to do it, you know,” he said in a huff, but we both knew he was lying. Bob only had three other employees: one was a middle-aged man who thought he was the second coming of Hulk Hogan, another lady was in her early seventies, and I was pretty sure she was the Hulk’s mom, and then there was Jessica. Jessica was eighteen and a bookworm. She used all the money she made to buy books. She wore big owl-like glasses, baggy jeans and had never been on a date. I knew that there was no way in hell that she’d take the job. And Bob was too cheap to hire anyone else.

“Oh, okay then.” I smiled sweetly. “If that’s what you want to do.” I turned around and walked towards the door. “I’m going to go get the clown costume for the birthday party this afternoon. See you later.”

“Wait.” Bob’s voice sounded panicked. “You can have the job with Scott Taylor. I offered it to you first. It wouldn’t be fair to you if I let Jessica have it.”

“Yeah, thanks, Bob.” I rolled my eyes before turning around to look at him. “Have my money ready tomorrow and we’ll have a deal.”

***

“Do you have my money, Bob?” I stood in the doorway to his office and raised an eyebrow. He was busy stuffing his face with a Big Mac and I was half worried he’d spent my money on the dollar menu at McDonalds as he had so many bags on his table.

“The bank could only give me two hundred,” he said as lettuce flew from his mouth. I looked away as my stomach rumbled and I tried not to laugh.

“Oh, did they run out of money?” I said and then looked back at him, my right hand on my hip.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his beady eyes looking at me carefully. “So I can only give you two hundred.”

“Well, I guess you’d better call Jessica and see if she can do the job.” I turned around. “Oh and join a bank that is able to provide its customers with more than two hundred dollars at a time.”

“Wait, wait.” Bob jumped up and I turned around again. “I spoke to the manager and he was able to get them to give me another hundred.”

“Uh huh,” I said, wondering what sort of fool he thought I was. “Where’s the money?” I held my hand out and waited. Bob looked annoyed and I could tell that he was trying to think of something else to say to keep some of the money.

“Here you go.” Bob handed me a stack of bills and I frowned when I looked down and saw a bunch of ones. What a jackass! “Now, you also have to sign a nondisclosure form.”

“What?” I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

“You’re not allowed to tell your new boss that his friends hired you as a gag.”

“I’m not going to tell him,” I said, exasperated. “Well, not until the fake lap dance and the reveal when his friends burst into the room at the end of the day.”

“That’s kind of changed,” Bob said as he handed me a piece of paper and a pen. “Sign here.”

I looked at the contract and saw that the client’s name was “H Smith”. I frowned and then signed the paper quickly and then looked up at him. “What’s changed?”

“Well, you’re not going to reveal yourself right away.” He grabbed the paper back from me.

“Hmm, okay?” I frowned, not understanding.

“The guys who are hiring us think it will be even funnier if you work there for a week and give him the lap dance at an office meeting.”

“What?” My voice expressed my horror. “Are you joking?”

“No.” He grinned. “I told them that won’t be a problem.”

“I’m not working there for a week for three hundred dollars.” My voice rose. “You can’t make me do this, Bob.”

“You just signed the contract.” He shrugged and walked back to his desk. “And you took the money already.”

“For a one-day job, not a one-week job,” I protested. “This isn’t right, Bob, and it seems unfair to Scott Taylor as well. A week is a long time to fool someone and the whole ‘lap dance at an office meeting’ seems sleazy.”

“We don’t create the rules, we just follow them.”

“These aren’t rules, Bob. This is ridiculous.”

“I thought you said you were a good actress?” He paused and gave me a questioning look and I could feel my stomach curdling. “A good actress can take on any job.”

“I am a good actress,” I retorted back to him. I hated when he pressured me into these roles. In fact, I hated Bob. I knew I needed to get a new job, but I’d just been too lazy to find one.

“Then take this job and shut up,” he said as he sat back down on his chair and started eating some French fries.

“You’re an asshole,” I said and was about to leave the office when he said the words that changed everything.

“You’ll get paid three hundred a day for a week,” he said and I froze. Was he being serious? Three hundred a day was a lot of dough.

“So I start on a Monday and end on a Friday?”

“You start next Monday,” he said as he took a large sip of Diet Coke (oh, the irony). “You’ll be in training as the secretary and flirting all week. The office party is on a Saturday. You’ll go to the party, give him a dirty lap dance and then his friends will come in and tell him ‘surprise’ and your job will be done.”