Page 35 of Playing with the Boss

SIXTEEN

Mason

Suspended.

I wasn’t even the one who threw the first punch, and yet here I lie on my hotel bed, fucking suspended from work, while Tony smarmy-face Kipley gets to go back to work.

And that’s not even the part that pisses me off the most.

Being stood down for something that I don’t perceive to be my fault—at least, not entirely—isn’t what has me reluctant even to get dressed and off this damn mattress.

Nope. It’s the fact Lisa is there now, at work, in that goddamn office, and I’m stuck here like the naughty boy I am with no access to my toys. She’s so much more than a toy, though. God, she’s everything.

I slap a hand onto the bedside table and drag the room service menu to me. Either I’ve been stuck in the ass by Cupid’s arrow, or I’m becoming delirious from lack of food. I’m opting for the second explanation, considering it seems the easiest to justify.

I make the rules.

I’m the one who decides how and where women get to have me. I sure as fuck don’t get sucked in by their feminine charms and let them dictate how I feel.

I’m so fucked.

I want her. Here. Now.

She’d know how to make me feel better. The uncertainty surrounding my career today has me restless. Will Pete see through Tony’s bullshit? Will Alf stick up for me? Or am I basically lying here waiting on a healthy severance package, or maybe not even that? Perhaps I’ll get a verbal kick in the ass and a weeks pay if I’m lucky.

Not that the money matters. It’s the principle of the damn situation.

Holy shit. Is this how Lisa feels waiting on the outcome of the company’s audit? Is this the limbo she’s in waiting to hear if she keeps her job or needs to start looking elsewhere?

God, I’m such a douche.

I toss the sheet back from my legs and slide to the side of the bed. Where the fuck did I leave my phone? Or more accurately, where did it land after I threw it across the room last night when I got Pete’s message?

I rise to my feet and stretch, arms braced above my head. The sun illuminates the carpet at my feet, the warmth seeping onto my toes. I’ve got no idea what time it is. My best guess is mid-morning. I really should do something with the day other than lie around and feel jaded about what’s happened. After all, when was the last time I actually took a day off? I can’t even remember….

The glossy black of my phone’s hard case catches my eye from beneath the single armchair. I duck down and retrieve it, flipping it over in my hand to check the screen.

Message from Pete, two from Alf, one from Lisa, and a—One from Lisa?

My thumb is a blur as I swipe left, hammer in my passcode, and then impatiently wait for the thread to load. Fucking hotel WiFi.

LISA: I just heard the news. I can’t believe they suspended you and not Tony. Are you okay?

Know a few ways I could be better, but…

ME: Frustrated and bored. It’ll blow over. Guess I gave the office something new to gossip about.

My reply has barely been delivered before the dots dance to show she’s typing back. Either her phone happened to be in plain view on her desk, or somebody is more concerned that they’re letting on.

LISA: Millie at reception is having a field day. What were you two arguing about, though? Tony won’t say.

ME: I bet he won’t. Asshole. He made a few threats—against me, and you.

LISA: What!? Why me?

ME: He might have been onto something even if he had no proof.

I settle back on the bed, shoulders propped against the headboard and my legs wide as I grin like a fool at her dancing dots.