I AM THE BOSS HERE: AN ALPHA MALE ROMANCE
I see the people moving about their day barely recognizing anything more than what is in front of them. We all have stories to tell in the naked city of New York.
The statue of liberty welcomes the tired and poor with promises of the American dream. It’s not that simple.
I’m rushing, hurrying along with the flow of human traffic on my way to the Reynolds building. I finally broke the glass ceiling. I’m living the dream of being a female scout for the juggernaut of all talent agencies.
Tyson Reynolds is a man amongst little boys.
He can make or break somebody’s career with the snap of his fingers. His empire is vast spanning the globe in the search of the next big thing.
There’s no shortage of those actors and actresses. They beg for his attention looking to score the big part to put them on the map. I am one of his loyal soldiers on the front lines subjecting myself to off-Broadway shows.
“I don’t know where you’re at, but he is on a tirade. I’ve never seen him like this before and this is not the day to get on his bad side. I will cover for you, but hopefully, he won’t notice you’re missing.” Jennifer said in my blue tooth echoing with today’s technology playing its part in the success of any business.
Jennifer was the receptionist taking calls and watching a conveyor belt of disappointment walk back and forth through the hallways.
I’m not stupid. The day I was hired three months ago changed everything. This is a steppingstone to bigger things in a company striving for excellence. The waiting list is extensive for aspiring talent.
I’m a petite young thing at 22 years old barely 5’4 with heels and 120lbs with a certain part of my body hidden under bulky clothing. The free-flowing black sweater gave me the chance to show Tyson what I could do without him undressing me with his eyes.
The plain grey pleated skirt went down past my knees. The fall season is fast approaching and I can feel the nip in the air. It’s my favourite time of year when there are layers instead of skimpy attire like bikinis and halter tops.
“I’m running a bit late, but I should be there in less than 5 minutes,” I announce, dodging around those people not watching where they were going and doing my best not to become a skid mark on one of the many taxis.
They were crazy and drove like maniacs, not the least bit concerned for the public safety. I slapped my hands down on the hood, holding my breath seeing my life flash before my eyes. It wasn’t much of a story and I had many chapters left to be written.
My black hair with a tinge of blue had come from a bottle. I didn’t want to be seen as any other airhead trying to get ahead. The curtains didn’t match the rug on purpose.
“I don’t know if you can hear him, but he is giving somebody a tongue lashing they’re never going to forget. It’s probably Frank and you know how he can get on Mr. Reynolds last nerve,” Jennifer said referring to how Frank was one of the last of the old guard getting by from milking his established clientele.
My mother warns me continuously to be wary of strangers offering candy. It’s in Tyson’s eyes. I stumble over my words when I’m around him. It’s a good thing I’m not on his radar. His attention is on those women who come through the door wearing their sexuality on their sleeve.
I’m in good shape, but I don’t flaunt it.
The subtle difference between me and the talent is how I am perceived by Tyson. I bring him fresh faces. They eat and breathe acting, but are relatively unknown until he gets their names in lights. I’m one of the many cogs in the machine making him look good.
I scramble for the elevator motioning for its lone occupant to show some mercy. He looks perturbed, but he relents with his hand out to stop the elevator from closing.
“I really appreciate it and you have no idea how much you have saved me,” I gasp, holding the stitch in my side from going through the wall to the other side.
He doesn’t say anything and I’m not surprised. I can’t stand people who are not willing to engage in civil conversation.
Tyson is the only one I can’t seem to get a word in edgewise. He monopolizes the conversation never one to give anybody else the spotlight. It’s a trait I don’t find attractive, but it’s the only thing about him that appears ugly in my eyes.
I wait patiently for the elevator to ascend slowly into the bowels of the building. This isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last time I’m late to an important meeting.
The juggling of my career and my family obligations come at a cost.
My mother suffers from an early case of dementia forgetting simple things most people take for granted. I have to stop by every morning to make sure she takes her medication on time without fail. It’s one of the burdens of being an only child.
I have my brown tattered briefcase in my hand. It holds several prospects. I have been cultivating new talent that could become a household name. They need to impress Tyson and I stress to them the importance of making a good first impression.
He’s standing at the podium in the front of the conference room. He’s quite animated and knows how to get the job done with incentives. I see how he works the room walking around and every so often touching one of his people to make a personal connection. It’s the game and he knows how to play it.
I slip in unannounced while his back is turned. Nobody seems to notice my arrival completely enthralled by the man bigger than life.
“I don’t know where I went wrong. I thought I left this place in good hands when I went on my one-month annual sabbatical to India. Imagine my surprise when I come back to see nobody has done anything. No, that’s not true and one of you has exceeded in their numbers.” He ruffles through the papers in front of him until he has a light bulb moment.
The suit he wears is his armour. The cut is perfection made to frame his body like a second skin. Nothing makes a man like a good suit. He has taken that sentiment to the next level.
“I have been going over the books and there’s one person amongst you that all of you should be taking a page from her book. Her enthusiasm is infectious and her work ethic is above reproach. Michelle, I want to personally thank you for your contribution and reward your efforts with a gift card to one of my favourite spas,” He reveals with a flourish of a magician one of the many incentives to make this business run smoothly.
“I was just doing my job,” I stutter, feeling the heat of his hungry stare looking back at me.
“You’re humble and efficient. What did I ever do to deserve someone like you in my employment? The numbers reflect all the hard work you have done in my absence,” He praises with his eyes chastising those around the table for their dereliction of duty.
I shift nervously unable to make eye contact. There’s this unspoken energy in the room. The flush to my cheeks spread to my chest. I’m thankful the sweater hides the embarrassment of my blush.
“The rest of you have something to prove to me. The only way to get results is to put a fire under all of you. I plan to cut the fat around here starting with the dead weight. Nobody is exempt. It’s a matter of what you have done for me lately. Everybody starts with a clean slate with the exception of Michelle who has gone above and beyond the call of duty,” He said, holding my gaze for a split second too long to make things awkward.
Tyson walks around the table looking at the new prospects being presented. He’s standing behind me and I can feel his hot breath on the back of my neck. There’s nothing untoward about his attention.
He spreads the profiles I have compiled with a careful eye for detail.
I sit silently trying to become invisible, but it’s not easy when he singles me out. His body craves the touch of a feminine hand. I can see how he manhandles the pen in his hand and I want some of the same treatment.
His cologne is overpowering and makes me dizzy with anticipation.
The masculine scent confirms my suspicion he is on the prowl. There’s one button undone on his porcelain white shirt giving a brief peek at his hairless chest. To run my fingers down over his body would be a pleasure.
“The rest of you are on notice. Bring me something within 24 hours or you can look for another job. Don’t expect me to give you a glowing reference. I don’t reward shoddy work. I’m through looking at you. Get out of my sight and today is your wakeup call. Nobody skates through on past success present company excluded,” He said referring to those who were still under the umbrella of his agency.
There were rumbles of dissension and I stood there underneath their glaring disapproval. There’s this unspoken rule and I broke it. I didn’t do anything wrong, but they didn’t see it that way.
“Michelle, I commend you and I find myself eating a bit of humble pie. I confess I didn’t want to hire you, but I saw potential. You have more than lived up to my expectations. I’m sorry we haven’t spoken much since you were hired, but I will rectify that miscarriage of justice,” He said, fishing into his pocket before finally revealing his business card with his contact information embossed on it.
He dwarfs me and has me feeling inferior, but I’m not the only one.
“Thank you,” I squeak, clearing my throat with my mouth dry.
“I recognize good work. You probably felt safe flying underneath my radar, but those days are over. I see you, Michelle and I like the moxie you show. Yes… I definitely see you and I’m no longer blind.” I could feel him brush his hand along the back of my sweater making brief contact with the sensitive skin of my neck.
He whistles and walks out the door with his hands behind his back. I can’t help to look at his hard packed cheeks. He glances over his shoulder and smiles catching me in the act. He looks amused, but I want the floor to swallow me whole.
I bow my head with my glasses sliding along the bridge of my nose. I push them back up into position. My whole body trembles with this unspoken need. Mixing business with pleasure is always a bad idea. It’s even worse when I know his hand elicits the temptation to do more than look.
I’m not experienced. I don’t even know where to begin. I have this feeling he would make a great teacher. I’m not sure I can trust a philandering cad to take my innocence. It’s not like me to have any feelings when it comes to the opposite sex. I don’t need the aggravation. It’s just that his words of praise have touched me deeply. I wonder about other ways he can touch me to encourage moans of arousal to come out of my mouth.
I’m going to hell for even thinking such thoughts. Burning in the sheets under the cover of darkness is going to be the devil’s work. There is a struggle between the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other whispering words to contradict each other. They shout over each other trying to get my attention, but my eyes have seen the light. There’s nothing innocent about the naughty images conjured in my mind’s eye.
I’m not ready to sin with a man who treats women like a conveyor belt of pleasure. He is despicable with this hidden passion ready to be unleashed. I can’t possibly imagine sleeping with him and being forgotten moments after the deed is done. If that is true, then why can’t I stop thinking about him?