I shouldn’t trust him. I shouldn’t be so comfortable around him. He’s my boss, for Pete’s sake. There is something familiar about him, though. More than that, there is something mysterious about him. Why is he being so nice to me? He picked me up from work to tell me he has my car and is tuning it up. Why is he fixing it for me? Why do anything for me?
Fairytales are for little girls with dreams. I believed once upon a time. Could my new boss be a knight covered in tattooed armor? I could certainly daydream about it, since he seems to show up everywhere I need him to be. Out of necessity I have always taken care of myself. I have never wanted to ask anything of anyone. Hendrix doesn’t make me ask.
I rub my butt, thinking about my blinged-out panties that say, ‘I’m a survivor,’ on them. My new job has been stressful and challenging, but I am surviving.
I head into the hospital with a little pep in my step. It’s nice to see the good in a world full of bad.
The day quickly goes south when I have to help a family make arrangements to take a loved one off life support. The hard part of my job is helping people face the needs for such forms as a DNR—Do Not Resuscitate—a living will, or a medical POA—Power of Attorney. When it involves a child, it tugs at my heart strings even more.
This family is facing the loss of their nine-year-old daughter. She was in a bicycle accident, hit her head, and she is never going to wake up. Brain function is gone. Decisions have to be made, hard decisions I couldn’t imagine having to make, but it is my job to be a place of support and information.
“I’m sure Broody Boss will be happy to wipe away your tears.” Toni tries to cheer me up after finalizing all the documentation for the family. Apparently, I talk too much about my part-time job at my full-time job for the girls to even know their nicknames, huh?
“Broody Boss isn’t so bad. It’s better than Slick always trying to get in my panties.”
“You ever gonna find out their actual names?” Tabby chimes in.
“I’ve listened to them enough that I think Broody is Hendrix, Slick is Morrison, and Sporty is Jagger.”
“Wait, Hendrix, Morrison, and Jagger? Are you serious right now? I didn’t catch onto that the night we got to watch them shake their ass on the bar.” Toni laughs as she keeps saying their names. “‘Detroit Rock City and their rocking rebel bachelors hosting ladies’ night at Hooligans.’ I can just see the advertising now. This makes for great marketing.”
“Stop it.” I laugh at her.
“Just trying to keep your mind off this job, sweets. And your other job is a great distraction for us all. If only the closet romp guy would come back around, then it would be an even better distraction.”
“Oh, my goodness, I can’t believe you. Let it go. We are not bringing up the closet romp ever again.” Even if I do revisit it nightly in my dreams, I add in my mind.
...
On Tuesday night, Morrison is out of town, leaving Jagger and Hendrix with me as I start my shift. It isn’t long before two ladies cozy up to the bar and start flirting with Jagger without hiding that they are more than willing to give in to his every want.
The three of them disappear to a back bathroom for quite a bit. When they come out, I watch as the girls have that clearly satisfied look to them as Jagger smirks over to Hendrix. The girls order one last drink each, while Jagger goes back to work. I hear them muttering about how great he was. Blah, blah, blah.
“Who should we ask for if we come another night, looking for you?” Bimbo One asks Jagger.
I am wiping the bar when I stop dead at his reply.
“Call me Caldwell, baby,” Jagger replies with the same confidence as my man in the mask.
Oh, my goodness, this is not happening. I was drunk, it was dark, and the closet was small, but I think he’s about the right height. No way, I did not sleep with Jagger. Dear God, I think I did. How big was he?
I rush to the bathroom. Think, Livi, think. It couldn’t be Jagger, could it? The night is so fuzzy in my mind.
Rolling my shoulders back, I rub my butt, needing my undercover inspiration. ‘Toughen up, buttercup,’ my panties remind me to push through.
Okay, so I may have possibly had sex with my boss, but I need this job too desperately to let one night in a closet mess it up. I will move past my drunken escapade, even if that one night in the closet was the best sexual experience I have ever had. Besides, he clearly doesn’t know it was me, so all is well.
I will go about work, business as usual. Can I get some panties to remind me of that?
...
Thursday night, all three brothers are working. Morrison called me in for tonight, even though I don’t think Hendrix wants me working on ladies’ nights. Toni comes with me in case Hendrix doesn’t really want me there. The house is jam-packed. Morrison notices me first.
“Back that ass up behind the bar, girl. I didn’t call you in here for you just watch me shake mine,” he calls out to me.