Chapter Six
Jess
I close the door to my office, and sit behind my desk, closing my eyes to clear my head. What happened with Snake was just a bump in the road. I can recover from this. I can’t blame him for being suspicious of me, for being hesitant to go into an illegal business with a complete stranger. Maybe he just needs some time to think things through. Through my research, I know he’s desperate. The entire Mariano family is hard up for cash.
Jesus, why did I have to fuck everything up? After weeks of looking, Snake was the first Mariano man I’d found. I don’t know what I was thinking when I texted him those documents. I should’ve brought it up to his face, when we first met, but I didn’t want to talk business when all Snake could think about was fucking me.
A hot blush warms my cheeks when I remember our time in the alley. He’d wanted me badly. I could feel it in the heat of his kiss, in the eager way his hard body pressed against me, pinning me to the wall, giving me no hope of escape. In fact, I bet if I texted him right now, he’d still be ready and willing. I stare at my cell phone on the desk. Of course, I wouldn’t do that. After all, it’s not him I’m attracted to, it’s just that I haven’t been touched like that for so long. That accounts for why I can’t stop thinking about him.
There’s a knock on my door. I yell, “Come in.” Steve, my boss, walks into my office. I give him a cheery smile, hoping to get rid of him as soon as possible.
“Good morning, Jess,” Steve says, sitting down across from me. His blond beard and mustache is neatly trimmed. I can smell his cologne from here, but it’s not offensive, so it must be very expensive. “Did you have a good weekend?”
“Mm-hmm,” I say noncommittally. Steve should know by now that that’s all he’s going to get from me. I have no interest in personal relationships with co-workers, or idle chit-chat.
“Great,” Steve says, then folds his hands, getting to business. “I want you to know, that you’re doing great work here. You’ve proven yourself an indispensable member of the ShopSuite family.”
He pauses, waiting for me to gush over his compliment. I just wish he’d get to the point.
“That said, I’ve received some complaints from the employees under you. Not complaints, exactly, just-“
“What did they say?”
Steve clears his throat. “The main theme is that you come across as a bit intimidating.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m their boss. Not their mother.”
Steve blinks rapidly. He’s always like this around me, on edge. Maybe I do come off as a little hard around the edges, but since I’ve gotten sober, my tolerance for bullshit is nonexistent.
I sigh, softening my facial features. “Who was it that complained?” I ask, adding a feminine lilt to my voice.
“I shouldn’t disclose that,” Steve says, fiddling with his pants at the knees.
“I promise, I won’t scare them,” I say with a good hearted laugh. “I want to make it right.” What I mean is, if I have to coddle a few emotionally immature men to get Steve off my back, then so be it.
Steve looks around reluctantly, but he spills the beans anyway. “Toby Brown.”
“Toby,” I say, drumming my fingers against the desk. “Okay, thank you.” I look down at some work on my desk, and don’t look up until Steve leaves. He’s eager to get out, so I don’t have to wait long.
Toby. That weak asshole better not have said anything, to Steve, or anyone. I walk out of my office and peek into Toby’s cubicle.
“Can I have a minute?” I say, with the kindest smile I can muster.
Toby is the IT guy, and he looks the part. He’s in his mid-twenties, with black, thick rimmed glasses and messy blond hair. He says something like, “Yes, ma’am” under his breath, then follows me to my office.
Be nice, I remind myself as I sit at my desk across from him.
“I understand you’ve had some issue with me,” I say.
Toby’s shoulders tense. “I don’t know who told you that.”
“I’m not angry, Toby. I need to hear your feedback, so I can be the most effective leader I can be. Now, what’s the problem?”
Toby looks down at his lap. “It’s just-when you had me compile all that information.” He glances around the empty office, then lowers his voice. “The credit card numbers. It didn’t feel right. It’s against company policy to have names, numbers, and expiration dates in one place, with no encryption. It makes it too easy for the wrong person to get their hands on it.”
“So you told me then,” I say. “If you thought it was wrong, why did you still do it?”
Toby adjusts his glasses, biting his lip. “Truth be told, I felt a little bullied into it.” He tries to hold my gaze, but fails.
“Have you said anything to Steve, or anyone?”
“No,” Toby says, defensively. “You told me not to.”
“Listen, Toby.” I stand up, walk around, and sit on the desk in front of him. “I was hired here to make things more efficient. That policy is outdated, and frankly, I think it assumes the worst about people.”
“So why keep it from Steve?”
“Because change happens slowly, and not all at once. I’m developing a new way to store credit card information. No one will see those documents but you and me. Promise.” I clap my hands together. That ought to do it. “So, do you feel better?”
Toby nods nervously. I can tell he’s lying, but that’s enough for me. He flinches when I lay my hand on his shoulder.
“I’m glad we could work this out. You can go now,” I say. Toby quickly stands to leave. Before he makes it to the door, I remind him of one little thing. “Since what we did is currently against company policy, I think it’s best we continue to keep this between us, for both of our jobs’ sake.”
Toby walks out, leaving me alone. In the silence, grief comes out of nowhere, hitting me like a ton of bricks. That’s been my experience for the last couple of years. That wall of sadness can materialize at the most unexpected times, and so suddenly, that I have no other choice but to crash right into it.
I turn on some music so no one can hear me crying. This shouldn’t be my life. I shouldn’t be threatening people’s jobs. But it’s not my fault that things have come to this. I hate this crawling, hopeless feeling that I can’t shake. I hate missing Jake. I hate comparing my life now, to the life that could have been. I hate that I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t bitter and angry.
The urge for liquor follows closely after these attacks, and this time is no different. There’s a bar down the block. Just one quick drink to calm my nerves, to center myself. That’s all I need.
Without thinking, I grab for my purse. At that moment, a text comes through on my phone. It’s Snake. I drop my purse, and sink into my seat to read it.