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"That's it, baby, open those legs wider for Daddy."
How did she soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend get a key into her apartment and why was he even so brazenly bold to have a lover there?
"Harder, Arlo. Give it all to me. I want to come on your manhood in her bed on her favorite duvet."
Hazel. Her best friend since college. Ten years of being friends. She'd stood by Hazel when her parents died seven years ago.
Now her best friend was having intercourse with her boyfriend and crowing about doing it in her bed on her favorite duvet.
"Oh, don't stop on my account. Please finish. I'll drink my wine and then we can chat when you're done."
"Grier, it's not what it looks like." She started to plead, her eyes welling up with tears.
"Save the crocodile tears, Hazel. I don't know what I've done to you to warrant you wanting my boyfriend," she held a finger up, "sorry, ex-boyfriend, to f**k you in my bed.
___________
Walking into her condo, kicking her shoes off in exhaustion, Grier wondered if her day could have gone any worse. This time of year, the word scrooge was tossed around frequently but she was certain if anyone was getting visited by three ghosts come Christmas, it was going to be him. Nick Santos, her boss. In five years, the man she knew could easily win any of the sexiest eligible bachelor titles on the planet, based purely on looks, routinely caused her to rethink her sexuality. In those moments where she found herself ogling him, he would inevitably do something so horribly rude her lady parts could dry up like she was stranded in the Sahara.
Today was no exception. Her cranky boss grew irritated when they'd entered one of the production plants and holiday music was playing overhead. He'd given a tersely worded comment to the manager telling him to be respectful not everyone in the company celebrates Christmas and they might also find the holiday painful, especially when layoffs were happening. Then he laid off three people in management because he found out they were in a love triangle, but all three men had wives at home. Video of them having a blowout argument over which man the senior manager loved most had made it to Nick's desk. Just over two weeks to Christmas and he ditched three of his management team for cheating on their wives with each other.
It wasn't this which bothered her though. It was the fact he made sure to out the three men to their wives as gay and sent them the video clip of the fight. Anonymously of course. She could say nothing since she herself was in an ironclad NDA.
Then without further ado, he'd marched back to the car, advised they were returning to New York, and he didn't speak another word until they landed back at JFK. When he'd had his driver drop her off, his only words were "seven a.m. Monday."
She meandered to the fridge and was about to pull it open to grab the rest of the bottle of merlot she knew was in there when a sound from deep in her apartment caught her ear.
The only person who had a key to her apartment was her best friend, Hazel. Grier hadn't even given her boyfriend Arlo a key since they'd only been dating six months, and the term boyfriend was a stretch. Her working hours were not conducive to tons of free time, but Arlo so far didn't seem to mind. However, Hazel knew she was supposed to be away on a business trip with Nick Scrooge Santos and she wasn't due back until tomorrow.
"That's it, baby, open those legs wider for Daddy."
A man's all too familiar voice tormented her from down the short corridor. Daddy?
"It's so hot how hot you look taking my shaft."
How did she soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend get a key into her apartment and why was he even so brazenly bold to have a lover there?
The answer made her stumble over feet.
"Keep f*****g me, Arlo. Give it all to me. I want to come on your c**k in her bed on her favorite duvet. I love this duvet so much! Let's make memories on it. Make me come on it."
Hazel. Her best friend since college. Ten years of being friends. She'd stood by Hazel when her parents died seven years ago. She'd held her hand through every single one of her catastrophic relationships with the douchebags Hazel was drawn to. Now her best friend was f*****g her boyfriend and crowing about doing it in her bed on her favorite duvet.
She frowned angrily. She really liked her Christmas duvet. It was decorated with holly and ivy and snowflakes. Hazel. Why did she have to ruin the duvet? Gripping the edge of the doorframe and then Hazel's next words had her moving back to the kitchen.
"f**k me Arlo."
Arlo who on the two very recent occasions they had intercourse, insisted on a rubber, was now in her bed, f*****g her best friend, bareback. Retreating to the kitchen, she grabbed the bottle of wine, glad the b***h down the hall hadn't stolen it as well. She poured herself a glass and then wandered back down the hall. This time she didn't pause in the hall.
She leaned in the doorway, clearing her throat loudly and then took a long sip of her wine and waited for the sound to register. When Arlo heard her voice, his hips stuttered and then Hazel gave a scream to kick him off, her heel connecting with Arlo's still hard d**k. Arlo dropped to the floor like a sack of feed. A glimmer of a smile at his pain flashed on her lips.
"Oh, don't stop on my account. Please finish. I'll drink my wine and then we can chat when you're done."
"What are you doing here?" Hazel's voice shrieked in surprise.
"Here? You mean here in my condo? Mine. The place I bought with my money, Hazel? Are you really questioning why I'm here."
"Grier, it's not what it looks like." She started to plead, her eyes welling up with tears.
"Save the crocodile tears, Hazel. I don't know what I've done to you to warrant you wanting my boyfriend," she held a finger up, "sorry, ex-boyfriend, to f**k you in my bed and to do it without protection, as you just encouraged him to do, but you don't get to cry over it."
"Grier," Hazel was scrambling for a shirt to put on, her face a shade of puce at being caught.
Arlo was rolling on the floor whining with his hands around his junk, "I think my shaft is broken."
"Good," Grier tipped her wine glass in his direction, "serves you right for f*****g my best friend," again she held her finger up, "ex-best friend, in my bed. I do need to ask why my bed? You couldn't simply sneak around like normal prick?"
"Grier?" a man's voice calling from down the hall caught their ears. "You forgot your laptop bag."
As if this couldn't get worse. She sighed not wanting to leave these two alone in her room.
"Down here, Nick." She called and saw his face poke into the hall, "come, join the party."
His face, usually stoic became incredibly hard and his lips flattened. "What party? I don't do parties."
"The one where my ex-best friend of over ten years is getting plowed by my ex-boyfriend of six months. He thinks his shaft is broken."
"Did you break it?" Nick asked as he casually strolled down the hall with the laptop bag in his fingertips.
"No." She sipped her wine. "Regrettably."
Grier fought a snicker when Nick tilted his head to one side at the man who was holding his shaft aloft studying it.
"It does appear to have a rather deep bend in it. It's not very big, is it?" Nick commented dryly.
"It's average and what he does with it is average as well, but I chalked it up to beginner's nerves since we only s*x twice." Grier toed a pair of briefs from the floor on the tip of her Louboutin's and kicked them at Arlo. "Put them on and go get your shaft checked out."
"Mr. Santos," Hazel was kneeling on the floor now desperate to find her pants and she was eyeballing Nick like he was her messiah.
"Do we know each other?"
"I interviewed with you the same day Grier did, and you gave her the job."
"We interviewed twenty-six people the day Grier came in. You expect me to remember the twenty-five I didn't hire?"
"We had a connection."
He pulled his head back in revulsion before shaking it emphatically no. His face held the appearance of a man on the verge of vomiting.
"Do not puke here," Grier held a finger at him before slowly turning her head to Hazel. "Is that what this is about? You're still pissed off after all this time I got this job, and you didn't? You're holding a grudge?"
"I could have made him fall in love with me and you stole my chance. You knew I crushed on him and –" she paused as she realized the man she was confessing about was standing right there. "I've loved you for so long Nick Santos. We would be great together." She turned to Grier again, "you could have declined the job so I could get it and be with him!"
"I was invited to the interview, Hazel. Invited. You applied for it, but I was invited by his prior administrative assistant."
"On a fluke! It was a fluke because you helped her with her stupid coffee and pastries order and carried them to her car."
"While you and three others stood there watching her struggle! Even though there were so many interviewees I was the one selected and you weren't. Besides, I've told you a thousand times, he's a prick to work for." She turned her head to face him, "sorry but you are."
"Noted." Nick let the insult roll of his back like water off a duck.
"I think I need to go to the emergency room," Arlo was slowly rising from his kneeling position.
"I don't care. What you do need to do is get out of my condo. Both of you."
"Grier, can we talk, please?" Hazel whimpered. "I have nobody else. I'm sorry."
"You f****d my boyfriend. I told you last weekend about how I thought maybe I was catching feelings for him, which led me to sleep with him Saturday night and Sunday morning and you f****d him in my bed while I was away."
"You were away with Nick."
"It's Mr. Santos to you." Nick sneered at Hazel. "And she was at work. We weren't having intercourse." He gave Grier a look, "this is the kind of company you keep?"
"Not anymore. Hazel, you need to get out. Leave my key on the counter."
"You can't just –"
"Just what?" she finally raised her voice an ounce. "Cut you out of my life? Watch me. You brought someone I told you I cared about into my place and had intercourse with him. God only knows how long this has been going on."
"How long has it been going on?" Nick asked Arlo who was slowly stepping into his trousers, his face contorted with pain.
Grier was starting to believe maybe his shaft really was broken. He was moving quite slowly.
"Almost a month."
"How many times did you have intercourse with Hazel," he sneered the name, "in Grier's bed."
"This was the first time in this bed. Hazel wanted to borrow a pair of shoes for our date, so we came in to get them and –"
"Date? You were taking her on a date?" Grier growled, "Jesus Christ, you were taking her on a date, and you thought in your infinite wisdom, to borrow my belongings to do so and then got distracted by having intercourse in my bed!"
"Grier" Nick motioned to the wine glass, "have another sip." He texted on his phone, his jaw tense.
She downed the glass and grumbled, "I just want them out of here."
"I'm working on it. Barrett is on his way with his team."
"Who is Barrett?" Arlo asked as he tried to get his shoes on.
"This feels far too civilized considering I came in and caught you having intercourse in my bed. Can you please hurry up and get out?"
"Agreed," Nick nodded.
"Mr. Santos?" a voice called from down the hall.
"Down here, Barrett. Miss Bush came home to find trespassers in her apartment. Remove them. I believe the man may need medical attention but do not offer it to him. He can find his own way."
"Yes sir." Grier in five years had never figured out whether Barrett was his first or last name, but the man was massive yet with the finesse of a serpent, he squeezed between Grier and Nick and motioned for two men with him. "I've got him. You get the girl. I hate carrying the girls. They do that," he motioned to where Hazel started to thrash and kick violently as she was dragged from the room.
"Make her leave the key to Miss Bush's condo, please." Nick called out as the couple were escorted out.
Hazel's pleas for Grier to just listen slid along Grier's spine like nails on a chalkboard. When finally, there was silence again in the condo she looked at the bed and sighed, "I really liked that duvet cover and now I'm going to have to burn it."
Huffing frustratedly she considered all the ways she could fix the pretty cover and none of them were ever going to work. She looked at her boss who was still there and motioned to the laptop bag he still held onto.
"You can set it on the floor there. I apologize for making you bring it up."
"I wanted you to have it in case I needed you over the weekend."
"You told me when I booked the flights back I could have the entire weekend since we were coming back early."
"A billion dollar company doesn't run itself, Grier. If I work, you work."
Rubbing her head with frustration she returned her attention back to the task at hand. "Fine but I want it noted, if you make me work this weekend, I'll probably be unable to talk you down off ledges you climb up. In my current frame of mind, I might let you fire everyone." She suddenly had a new appreciation for the video he sent to the wives. "Also, I take back my anger over the videos. They have the right to know."
Nick Santos watched his unflappable administrative assistant and quirked an eyebrow. This was not the way he would have expected any woman to behave upon coming home to such a scene.
"Different insight now?" he queried poking his tongue in his cheek to keep from laughing.
"Yes. I hope they all get revenge on their cheating asses."
"Is it what you want to do? Revenge?" He studied her as she tugged the bed, careful not to touch where she obviously felt her friend was getting f****d and then balled the blanket onto the floor.
"I don't know. This isn't my first rodeo with cheating boyfriends, but I didn't expect it to be with her. I do everything for her. I considered her a second sister." She stared down at the bed and then gave a loud sigh, "it can't be fixed, can it?"
"Will you be alright?"
"Yeah. She didn't drink my wine, so I'll finish the bottle and then sleep in my guest room. Tomorrow I'll go buy a new mattress and bedding but I really liked this one. It's my Christmas themed one." She kicked it with her toe before moving to take off the pillow shams as well and tossed them on the pile. "I bought it in this cute little shop back home."
"Back home?"
"Coldreach, Colorado."
"Is it where you're going for your holidays over Christmas? You leave Tuesday, correct?" He was still annoyed she was taking the full time off. In his family vacation time, especially this time of year, was never on the agenda. Yet for the last five years she always left a week before Christmas and came back the first working day after New Years Day. This year she was taking sixteen full days because HR told her she needed to use the rest of her days up despite the fact it was him who'd cancelled two of her vacations earlier in the year.
"Yes." She gave a not-so-ladylike snort, "and to think my mother was begging me to bring Arlo with me. First guy I've dated seriously in forever and she was so excited to meet him even though I told her a million times it wasn't time yet. Took me six months to relax enough around him to sleep with him and then I come home to this five days later. I should have trusted my gut. I hope his shaft really is broken. Is it wrong to wish a lifetime of shaft pain to a man?" She sat on the edge of her bed and looked at the wine glass she'd set on the nightstand. "Maybe I'll wait until I get home and see if any of the ladies from mom's quilting guild have a Christmas cover, they've made and haven't sold yet. I really liked this duvet cover!"
"You seem more perturbed over the loss of the duvet than the boyfriend." He did truly find her reaction to this whole thing confusing. Shouldn't she be wailing and crying and throwing things? He knew for a fact if it was one of his sisters going through this, there would be things flying off the shelves and people would be harmed far more than a broken shaft.
"Hazel says my heart was broken so badly by my high school boyfriend that it's irreparable and every man I date I hold at arm's length because I'm scared to be hurt. She calls me Ice Queen Elsa as a joke. She's probably right but I have a tough time trusting people and now I know why! I dated him for six months. We've been on maybe ten or eleven dates in this time, and I told her Saturday I thought maybe my frozen heart was starting to thaw a bit. We booked a date Saturday night, and she helped me get ready and told me to stop holding back and to give in. She sat right here," she waved to her bed, "on Sunday afternoon and made me dish to her about how it all went." Suddenly the emotion of her friend's betrayal hit her, "to find out she already knew what he was like in bed because she was banging him before me," she wiped a single tear off her cheek. "Her betrayal hurts way more than his. How could she do this to me?"
"Jealousy? She wants me and you work for me. It's what she said." It ran along his skin like an army of cockroaches.
"She might be slightly obsessed with you." Grier grimaced. "It doesn't matter how much truth I tell her about you, she reads a lot of those romance novels with the gruff CEO and the naïve receptionist. Except she's not naïve."
"What was her s**t about you stealing her job?" He wanted to change the subject. It was making him itchy.
"She'd applied for the job as your admin assistant the day it was posted. She works at the front desk of the lobby of the building she has a degree in office management. I was working as Mr. Pink's admin assistant in the finance department and was content so didn't apply. Your outgoing admin assistant was coming through the door with far too many things for one woman to carry," she shot him an annoyed look and he was in no doubt he'd done it to her as well many times in the last several years, "and I helped her. We got to talking and she insisted I add my name to the pool. I didn't. She found out I hadn't, and she added it. She felt I would be a better fit than any other candidates because she and I were similar in personality."
"I would have hired you on the spot but because of HR we were forced to go through the remaining ten interviews. It was torture. I knew what I wanted but because of HR policy everyone needed to have their fair shot just in case there was someone better. There wasn't." He paused, "so Hazel works at the front desk?" He truly didn't recall ever seeing her there, not as if he usually studied his receptionists.
"Yes."
"She truly wants to f**k me?" He was completed insulted by the notion. Who did the girl think she was?
"Does it bother you?"
"You do see how much lip filler she has, right? As her friend, did you not tell her the bee sting look shouldn't mean her lips look ready to explode. I wouldn't let her near my shaft in case her lips exploded and then I'd have a lawsuit on my hands. Also, her hair. Did you see her hair? I bet when you take a fistful it crunches. Why is her hair so blonde when I bet her roots are the color of my shoes."
"Geez, tell me how you really feel."
"I also," he moved to stand in front of her, "have no use for any woman who would betray her own friend like this. I don't care what her excuse is, if you take her back as your friend, I'll fire you so fast your head will spin, and I'll gladly pay for the wrongful dismissal." He meant it. He wouldn't tolerate having a doormat as his assistant. She needed to be strong and letting leaches suck you dry was not a good look.
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