Page 85 of The Boss Upstairs
“He’s all right,” I tell her. “I’m just not personally attracted to him.”
“Yes, you’re too busy with Mr. Dark & Mysterious,” she says, and I detect a slight note of envy.
“I’m not serious about Mr. Dark & Mysterious either,” I point out. “We’re just having fun.”
“Probably for the best,” Mischa says. “It’s never a good idea to get involved with the boss.”
Claudia reaches for her cup of tea. “God, you’re such a Debbie Downer, Mischa.”
“I’m just realistic, that’s all.”
Abigail laughs. “Remember when you thought Abe was a gold digger out for my money?”
Mischa’s laugh is strained. “I admit… I can be paranoid sometimes.”
“So ladies… have we decided on our orders yet?” the server asks.
Mischa is the first to speak up, followed by Abigail. I scramble to make a decision before she gets to me. I settle for the breakfast for lunch option. It’s my go-to.
“So about Mr. Dark & Mysterious,” Claudia continues as soon as the server leaves us. “What’s the latest?”
“We have a flirty dynamic,” I tell her “It’s fun.”
Abigail and I share a barely-there smile. She knows it’s a lot more than a flirty dynamic. But I’ve yet to confess to Claudia and Mischa. I don’t know if I ever will.
“I know there’s more going on.” Claudia pouts. “You’re a real bore, Gretchen. I thought we were friends.”
Well, now I just feel bad. I vow to let her in on my secret as soon as I can.
* * *
It’s Wednesday morning,and I’m running late. I’ve slept through my alarm, waking forty minutes past my usual time. As a result, the morning routine is rushed, and I’m not able to properly do my hair. Instead, I pull it up in a messy bun, my go-to style for such occasions.
I’m still flustered as I hurry down the entry hall. Rosetta is all smiles, and is a vision in a pretty soft pink suit.
“Wow, you look great,” I gush. “Nice suit.”
“You like?” she chirps. “It’s Valentino.”
“Really?” Who knew Rosetta could afford a Valentino suit. How much is Weston paying her? Those are about five grand. I know this because I read it in a fashion magazine at the hair salon.
My heart skips a beat when I finally arrive at my work station. Four shiny black boxes are on my desk, awaiting me, each one bigger than the other. The trademark Chanel logos leave no questions.
He’s bought me Chanel. I’m not completely surprised.
I burst with excitement as I pry open the first box, the smallest one. It’s a beautiful silver bracelet, adorned with diamond studded stars and the trademark double C logo. It’s both delicate and fabulous.
Oh my…
I’m too curious to stop and try it on. I need to know what’s in the other boxes. I rip into the second box, not so daintily, and discover a classic Chanel handbag, black and quilted, silver chain and a trademark logo clasp.
Oh my God.
This bag must be worth about five thousand dollars. I can’t believe he’s done this. It’s too much.
I tear into the third box, and as expected, it’s a pair of heels, beautiful black satin sandals. I study the pretty pearl laced straps, and the logos at the back of the heels. They are officially the most beautiful shoes I own.
I’m quick to kick off my heels and slip them on to make sure they fit well. And they do. They are glass slippers, and I am Cinderella.
The largest box sits conspicuously on my desk, and of course, I can’t help myself. Vulture on dead carcass. That’s me.
My breath catches when I see the dress. It has a long flowing black chiffon skirt and a ruffled bustier top. A slim black belt with a silver Chanel logo clasp ties the whole thing together. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful, and I know it must have cost a fortune.
The man has spent thousands on me, just because. He can’t be doing that. It’s not right. I can’t accept these gifts.
But I really, reallywant to accept them. They’re all so perfect.
But really, I can’t accept them.
