Dear Wicked Boss

If I had to describe my boss in one word, that would be; promiscuous. "OH HOLY GOD! SO GOOD!" shouted the voice of the woman who had come in just a few minutes ago, demanding to see my boss, with a haughty and arrogant attitude, looking down at me. She had demanded to see Evans immediately, without even saying good morning or introducing herself. She was one of his women, I could tell by her air of grandeur and her incredible beauty. She was tall, very slim, slender, blonde, with a face that must have been crafted by angels. But just as she was beautiful, they were also annoying, arrogant, and pompous, believing the whole world would be at their feet just because they were beautiful. I politely told her he wasn’t in, but as usual, they never accepted “no” as an answer. Before I could say or do anything, she headed straight to his door and stormed into his office like a bat out of hell. I didn’t even bother trying to stop her. I wouldn’t have succeeded anyway. Plus, I was on my lunch break, and I wasn’t about to run after one of my boss's mistresses just because she wanted to hook up. There was silence for a couple of minutes, then she started screaming like a maniac. "You're a god, Evans!" she screamed again, and that was enough for me. I tossed half of my ham and cream cheese sandwich back onto the desk, growling in annoyance at my sudden lack of appetite. I wasn’t supposed to hear my boss having s*x with a girl, but they were so damn loud, it was a miracle the whole company didn’t hear them. Since my desk was right outside my boss's office, I was the "lucky" one who got to hear them fooling around. I had to admit, part of me felt a little jealous—I didn’t enjoy hearing girls scream in pleasure when I’d been over a year without any action. And even when I had been with other guys, I never sounded as satisfied or excited as they did. My encounters were more on the average side, if not downright boring. The blonde let out a scream of pleasure, which signaled to me that she’d finished. Damn, this was like listening to live p**n. Silence reigned again, so I picked up my sandwich and took another bite, relieved that it was finally over. "You're a damn i***t, Evans!" the woman yelled again, this time in anger. I groaned and tossed my sandwich down again. Could I ever eat in peace at this company? "I can't believe you're doing this to me—kicking me out of your office after having s*x? What kind of heartless jerk are you?" Since she was the only one shouting, I couldn’t hear his responses. "I'm not leaving until we talk about ourselves." I grabbed my Coke and took a sip, enjoying the show. I didn’t feel bad for making fun of them because, seriously, who in their right mind thought Evans Garret would take anyone seriously? These women were blind, thinking he’d make them his girlfriend, introduce them to his parents, and hold their hand in pictures. No, Mr. Garret wasn’t that kind of man. He’d have s*x with them, noisily, sometimes take them to dinner and a hotel, and then discard them like an empty Starbucks cup after drinking the coffee. "I swear you’ll regret this, you son of a b***h!" she shouted again. The door to my boss's office opened, and a very agitated, enraged blonde stumbled out. Her once perfectly pressed red dress was now wrinkled, and one of the straps was torn. Her perfectly styled hair was disheveled, and her red lipstick was now just a pink smear across her lips. I couldn’t help but let out a small, amused giggle. She no longer looked like the conceited woman who had strutted in a few minutes ago, acting like she owned the place. She heard me, stopped her path to the elevator, and glared at me. My smile died the moment I saw the fury on her face, as if I were the one who had just rejected her after sleeping with her. "Do you find this funny?" she asked, and I just shrugged in response. I wasn’t going to argue with her. "You’re probably a pig, just like your boss..." "Camila, I thought you were already out of my company," murmured Evans from the doorway of his office, arms crossed over his chest. She scowled and glared at him with hatred. "My name is Camille!" Once she got into the elevator and the doors closed, I could finally breathe again. My boss, Mr. Garret, stayed there, staring at me with a raised eyebrow. Fine, it wasn’t my intention to make fun of the girl, but if he was putting on a show, I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t enjoying it. "Take my suit to the dry cleaner," he ordered in a cold voice. He wasn’t the nicest person in the world, especially when I made fun of his women. There were no “please” or “thank yous” when he gave orders—he simply expected them to be done, no questions asked, no need for kindness. "Of course, I’ll go as soon as I finish eating," I replied, taking another sip of my Coke. He glanced at his latest-edition Rolex and then back at me. When his eyes locked with mine, I knew he was about to pull one of his stunts. Stupid bastard. "Your lunch break ended five minutes ago. Go now." With that final order, he disappeared back into his office, shutting the door behind him. Son of a b***h! I hadn’t been able to eat because his mistress’s screams interrupted me—it wasn’t my fault, but of course, Evans Garret never thought about anyone but himself. I had been at the company for six months, having started in September, after studying Administrative Assistance at university. I chose that major because I had no idea what to study, and honestly, I hadn’t even felt like going to college after the death of my father and brother. So, I picked the first major I came across to please my mother and keep my mind occupied with something other than painful memories. I got the job thanks to the head of Human Resources, who had been a close friend of my father’s, and she got me an interview here to be the president’s secretary. I landed the job, and I was thrilled with the idea. I thought I had found the perfect job with amazing pay—until I met Evans Garret. Bitter, arrogant, a womanizer, selfish, disgustingly rich, and incredibly intelligent. We didn’t like each other at the beginning, and we don't like each other now. In fact, you could say our relationship was apathetic. We never shared a smile, joked, or talked about anything unrelated to work. I had been told that Evans' secretaries never lasted more than a month, thanks to his charming personality, but I had managed to last six months, and I hadn’t been fired yet. A Guinness record. He was demanding, and the good pay didn’t come for free. But the only reason I could find for not being fired yet was my excellent performance. No matter how much we despised each other or how many tasks Garret gave me, I always completed my work efficiently. I was good at my job, much better than all his previous secretaries, and he knew very well that it was hard to find a good secretary like that nowadays. Plus, he didn’t want to sleep with me, which HR also appreciated. Despite everything, I liked my job. It kept me busy, I was good at it, and the pay was great. If you could take Garret out of the equation, it would have been a dream job. But since nothing in life is perfect, he existed. I picked up my unfinished sandwich and downed my Coke in three big gulps. Garret wasn’t joking—if I stayed sitting here for five more minutes, I’d be in trouble. I refused to let him complain about me to HR. I was an excellent worker, and everyone knew it. He wasn’t going to ruin that. I went to the dry cleaner and then brought his suit back to the office. I knocked on his office door to give it to him—Garret didn’t like me going to his apartment, so he preferred to take it himself rather than let me drop it off. He once said it was because he didn’t want anything to get lost, as if I were a thief! "Come in," he ordered, in that cold voice of his. I entered the office and saw him there, sitting as he reviewed some papers. He was frowning and absentmindedly fiddling with the pen in his hand. His beauty hit me, just as it did every time I let my guard down with him. The first time I saw him, I almost drooled, realizing how stunning he was, like an underwear model. He had ocean-blue eyes, framed by thick, curly lashes that rivaled those of the girls he slept with. His face was masculine, but when he smiled, two baby dimples appeared on his cheeks, giving him a more youthful air. Women stopped in their tracks when he walked into a room because it was impossible not to notice him, especially since he stood 1.87 meters tall. "Here’s the suit," I muttered, putting it in the small closet in his office. It was a large space, with a private bathroom, an L-shaped sofa, a television, and a small minibar. Still, what I loved most about the place was the incredible view behind Garret’s desk, as you could see all of Atlanta from there. "That’s not the right suit," he growled from his seat. "That’s the blue one. I need the gray one." I frowned. What difference did it make? "You didn’t tell me specifically which one you wanted," I defended myself. "You didn’t ask. Go get me the gray one." "You want me to go back to the dry cleaner?" I asked, alarmed. "But it’s half an hour from here!" His eyes locked with mine, and as I stared into them, so cold and dry, I thought I saw them turn smoky gray. "Then I suggest you stop complaining and get moving," he replied indifferently. I left the office, using all my strength not to slam the door, and went to find a taxi. Of course, this would be charged to my boss’s credit card. I picked up the gray suit, as he had requested, and returned to the office. When I put it in his closet, he didn’t even look at me or say thank you. He was an ungrateful, arrogant jerk, a selfish i***t. He looked good in either suit, but he just enjoyed bothering me, knowing full well I would never refuse to do any of his tasks. When I got home an hour later, my blood was still boiling. I dropped my purse and keys on the table by the entrance and sighed. Sometimes my job wore me out. "Oh honey, you’re back," my mother announced, noticing me standing in the middle of the hallway. Her sincere and loving smile soothed my heart a little—at least at home, I had her, a lifeline. I walked into the living room and kissed her. There sat my five-year-old niece watching TV, while my sister-in-law was busy picking up toys scattered all over the carpet, scolding her for being so messy. It was chaos, but I loved being here because it made me feel comfortable and relaxed. When my niece saw me, she ignored her mother and ran over to hug me. I welcomed her happily, she was such a sweetheart. "Yes, thank God I’m back," I admitted with a small smile. "Your boss giving you a hard time again?" asked Dereck, entering the room while eating an apple. "What are you doing here?" I asked, though the question was unnecessary. Dereck had been my brother’s best friend and was like family since he spent so much time here that it was impossible not to feel that way. Even before my brother died, he was here often, so we were all used to him. He shrugged. Dereck was like that—fun, laid-back, practical. He was the kind of person who could always help when you needed it. Here, he was in charge of painting walls, fixing any broken pipes, or just changing a lightbulb, and in return, my mother would give him food, shelter, and love. "Your mother invited me for dinner," he answered flatly. "So, the evil boss made your life hell today?" I sighed dramatically. At home, everyone knew how much of an i***t my boss was—they called him the "evil boss" because sometimes he could be downright mean to me. It was my fault. I would vent my frustrations to avoid feeling overwhelmed or exploding at work. My family was close-knit, and there were no secrets here—we were always there to help each other out. "I had to listen to him f***ing one of his other women again, he didn’t let me finish my lunch, and he sent me to the dry cleaner twice because he didn’t want to wear the blue suit but the gray one for the charity gala today. What do you think?" My niece looked at me with those lovely brown eyes, so identical to my brother’s. "What does ‘f***ing’ mean?" she asked, confused. "Giving a lot of affection," my sister-in-law said, turning red. Dereck laughed but quickly fell silent when he noticed her warning glance. "Mommy, let's f***!" she exclaimed excitedly. We couldn’t help it, and we burst out laughing, except for my sister-in-law and my little innocent niece. "No, sweetheart, that’s something adults do," she responded dryly. "And what are you doing listening to adult conversations? Go watch TV!" The child immediately did so, without protest. I climbed the stairs to my room and changed into a tracksuit and a tank top. When I came back down, my mother was already setting the table with my sister-in-law’s help. She was a good woman. I considered her more of a sister than anything else. My brother had been with her for five years before he died, and the result of that union was my beautiful niece. She was devastated when he died, just like all of us. Her heart shattered into a thousand pieces because on that fateful day, she not only lost the love of her life, but also her best friend, the father of her daughter, and the best man she had ever known. She lived here with my brother, so when he died, we didn’t let her leave. She didn’t have a place to go, as she came from a difficult background, and staying here was her best option. Also, none of us wanted my niece to leave either. She was the only thing Sam, my brother, left us, she was like a treasure to us. Just like Dereck, they were here because they didn’t have a better place to go, and we took them in because they had been part of Sam’s family, and thus, they were ours too. As we ate, we chatted a little about our day. My mother was a registered nurse; she worked the day shifts and pushed herself to the limit, but arthritis was making life hard for her. We had all recommended that she retire and rest, since my incredible salary was enough to cover her needs and mine, but she was stubborn as a mule and refused. She says she won’t be a burden to us, that she loves her job, and if she’s going to die from something, it will be doing what she loves. Dereck is a high school baseball coach. He had a bright future, he could have been the best hitter and had received an offer to play for the Houston Dogets, but a day before his tryout with the talent scout, he fractured his leg while running from the police after getting into a fight at a bar with two guys. The doctor told him he could move it again in two months, but if he wanted to keep it that way, he’d never be able to play again. His friends, the girls, and the money all left after that. No one wanted him anymore because he wasn’t the star player. The only talent the guy had evaporated along with his dreams and hopes for a better life. The only person who took him in was m y brother. And later on, we did too, when we realized he was a great person. They were my family, what I loved most in the world.