Chapter 11 I hate my boss

(I hate my boss)

Grayson was taken aback, he was expecting something else but certainly not her using the bathroom to defecate. It was already embarrassing as it is and he could see her eyes glistening with tears,no one wants to be in her kind of situation so she was dismissed with the wave of a hand to make light of it.

Kathleen nipped on her bottom lip as she walked out of the office—the cowardly voice peered it's ugly head out urging her to quit, to walk away without paying her shame any glance but she was broke....she was out of groceries and hasn't had water in her apartment for a week. All she needed was a fat avaricious paycheck as compensation for her woes.

The hours went by quickly and she wasn't yelled at or called in by Mr Grayson, which was a miracle as she couldn't bear looking him in the eye after knowing she had clogged one of his toilets. Her work hours was finally over when she was called in, rolling her eyes she walked into the office and noticed he took his jacket off—his broad shoulders and beautiful biceps were clearly showing off as the reverie of those same hands tossing her around on the huge bed crossed her mind.

Why did shitty men have to be so handsome?? she pondered as she stood still with her hands behind her back waiting for his instructions even though she wasn't in her working hours any longer. Grayson sensed her presence anywhere, her Arabian nosegay couldn't be mistaken for someone else's—in all honesty he couldn't get it out of his head ever since that night.

‘Grab my car keys and come with me'. He said walking past her out the door.

She froze momentarily confused as to where they were going, then quickly grabbed the car keys to tag along. They reached the garage and her measly doubts were finally confirmed—it was the same car that took her to the hotel that night! he was Mathew Knowles and he knew her!!

She frowned deeply as she handed him the car keys and got into the car without question whatsoever, she felt insulted to the highest degree—even more than before knowing he knew they slept together and wouldn't even acknowledge that fact. It made her hate him even more.

An hour later they were right in front of his apartment. She didn't know what prompted her to come out of the car, the spirit that led her right into the elevator and up to the penthouse he called his home and now she was standing right in front of his door as he punched in the key codes to open it.

She gulped hard, not sure what she was to expect as this was happening all too fast. Was he trying to get her in his bed again? is he going to keep her hostage? are they going to have a wonderful time again? all these questions wavered in her little head until the door was finally opened and she followed him in.

The sound of the door closing behind them was startling as she felt herself jolt. It took a minute before she could finally admire the museum that was his home—compared to the sardine can she calls her apartment, his was vast in style and minimal to say the least...it was evident he didn't have his soul put into this and just hired an interior designer instead.

The furniture matched the floor as well as the walls, all beige and sparkling clean which was beautiful to say the least, the paintings on the wall was also soulless as well as the beautiful statue of a little angel above the fireplace—his home looked like one of those on the architectural digest magazines she would always read in her spare time, not one an actual human lived in.

‘If you're done moping around you can have this'. Grayson returned after ten minutes with a few suits still in their cases.

‘Sir??'

‘You've worked as a personal assistant before Miss Turner so I'm sure you know what this is'.

‘It's a couple of tuxedos sir'.

‘Yes. I need them to be freshly ironed before 10am tomorrow—by you Miss Turner....I need you to iron them and when I say I iron I mean—'

‘But sir i—'

‘That's all. You can take your leave now and remember...10am. If you're worried about working overtime trust me it's going to be handled in your paycheck'. With that he just turned around and walked away leaving her with a blank stare on her face.

She blinked twice, pinching herself to make sure she wasn't in some abstract state of immense delusion, that the man whom she called her boss didn't just ask her to iron out his suits. She so badly wanted to scream as she left the building, her eyes remained in a rapt state as she took the ride home, still shocked to the point of mute as she purchased a one dollar chicken pot pie with the last food stamp she had.

‘I hate him so much!!!'. She finally cried her heart out as she finally snapped out of her trance in Nana willow's house. Apparently the old lady was the only one in the building to own an ironing board and an iron.

‘We could sell' em', Nana Willow muttered looking down at the jacket Kathleen had on her board, ‘I know a five grand suit when I see one'.

‘Who spends five grand on a suit Nana??'. Emily rubbed her eyes as she woke up from her slumber on the couch.

‘Rich people do Emily', Kathleen sighed deeply, ‘Can't believe I have to be a personal maid to some bastard who doesn't even have the decency to treat me like a normal human being!'.

She was bitter, she was bitter and she was angry, and most of all her chicken pot pie tasted rotten so she had to feed on some beef jerky sticks from Nana's fridge. She wanted to cry, she had a job with a good pay but she was wretched and she loathed being poor....if she wasn't poor then she wouldn't have to deal with evil men like Grayson Hunter—men who used women and treated them like a cheap commodity.

‘It's the price we have to pay to live my darling', Nana placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, ‘Worked for a miser bastard myself in my old days...for a couple of pennies just to get by—but I knew I was working for a better life...i for sure didn't get rich but life did get better'.

Kathleen nodded and even though Nana's kind words made her feel a lot better, it still didn't change the fact that she hated her boss more than anything in the world.

***********

Connor McKnight could feel the laugh incoming as his best friend narrated the most unbelievable story known to mankind, over a glass of whiskey in a small pub in the middle of the city, ‘So you're saying she works for you now?'.

‘Yeah she does'. Grayson responded with annoyance as he could sense the incessantly teasing that was to follow.

‘So are you seduced by her?? like does she give you a—'

‘Don't be a dickhead Connor', Grayson frowned, ‘She's a respectable woman. Don't talk about her like she's some cheap slut'.

Connor's brows rose in skepticism, ‘Don't you think you're being a little too hypocritical about this Mr Hunter? I mean for a respectable woman you sure don't treat her as one judging the way you are as a boss...and might I care to mention, you can't like you didn't recognize her after leaving her in a bed with two hundred bucks! even the darndest of prostitutes wouldn't take that amount!'.

Now that he thought of it, he felt like a jackass, ‘I know it's as bad as it sounds but what could I do?? She clearly needed the job and you know how I always keep personal matters out of the office Connor'.

‘So Kathleen is out of the question to get over Charisse huh?'. Connor asked and Grayson sighed.

‘She is definitely out of the question'