Caught by the Boss ✔️

10

LEILA

I run through various webpages in search of the perfect bouquet for Grace. I'm thrilled for her, because I know she is head over heels for our boss, although she would never make a first move.

I was surprised to see the email announcing that she was leaving the company. She never mentioned that she was interviewing at other places, but I'm happy for her. We can still hang out outside of work.

I get her a two-dozen bouquet of crimson red roses that match her hair, attaching the note that wishes her good luck. Then, I order it to be delivered to her floor and I wait for her to text me as I fulfill my other daily tasks. I go outside to the nearest corner store to purchase a bag of chips as the boss requested.

I'm horrified as I walk out the store. Did he read my little scribbles on the chips? Damnit, I knew I shouldn't have written anything on it! Chances are, he read what I wrote and is considering how he's going to kill me for it.

I get a text from Grace right as I walk out the store.

"Leila!!! You won't believe who just sent me flowers!"

I smirk as I reply, "I have a good idea. Considering I'm the one who made the order." I give her a few details of how I got entangled as his secretary, and she has a lot of questions about it.

"There was a bee in the flowers, but I was too happy to care," she writes to me. "Thank you so much for ordering them! I love them."

I reply, "don't thank me. You should write him a note. Hurry up and marry him so I can get my promotion." I'm all giggles as I send the text. I feel guilty that the flowers came with a bee, but Grace doesn't seem to care, so that makes me feel better.

She tells me that she wrote a thank you note to him and asks me to meet with her so I can deliver the note. I agree, and then focus on finishing my tasks.

I'm so excited that I can't help my smile. When the boss came to pick up a signed document, he quirked an eyebrow at me, wondering what the hell made me so preppy. But then he thanked me for the bag of salted chips, and the mortification of his teasing wiped the smile off my face.

I finish work and meet Grace at the coffee shop. She hands me the envelope with the letter she wrote, and profoundly thanks me for the help. She doesn't want to send anything electronically to preserve their privacy.

After a long conversation of Grace gushing about her romance, I pocket the letter and go home. Once I kick my shoes off, the thud echoing throughout the small apartment, I'm alone. The distracting buzzing of the city is shielded by my locked door and I'm left with my thoughts.

Although I'm happy for Grace, this is one of the moments I wonder when I'll have my own boyfriend. A romance to make me blush.

I take a quick shower and then enter my bedroom. The Machine is still there, cold and gathering dust from lack of use.

I tap my knee a few times as I think of what to do. I could read a book, watch TV, play a mobile game or try cooking a new recipe. Be productive. But I make the wrong choice and turn on The Machine.

I lay in bed and pull my helmet on. For half an hour, I look for Henry. But he is nowhere to be seen.

Maybe he's busy in real life.

Or maybe he found someone else.

— —

I wake up early, and the first thing I do is check my phone. There's a strange email in my inbox, directly sent from Hector.

'Call me,' it says.

I tap the numbers listed in the email, clearing my throat and rubbing my eyes.

"Good morning, Leila," he picks up. His voice is so deep and husky it makes my back straighten. He has my entire body disciplined.

"Good morning, sir. If this is about Grace, I met with her yesterday and she handed me a letter for you. I'll bring it in today, and—"

"This isn't about Grace. I need to know if you have ever invested in The Machine. As you already know, it's a development of the company."

Oh, fuck. Why is he asking me this? Many employees use The Machine, although we don't admit it since The Machine is often used for sexual escapades. I don't want any of the accountants to know I'm addicted to virtual stimulation from strangers.

"Uh, yes," I reply. There's no need to lie. This man could figure out anything about me by hiring an investigator.

"Good. Bring in your helmet to work today. I need to test five helmets with logs on them."

He wants to analyze my fucking helmet?! Who knows what kinds of embarrassing things it has logged.

Sending my hesitation, he adds, "a critical leak has happened. We need user helmets with data to test the security. I assure you that I will be the only one looking at it. You will be compensated for helping with the research."

"I don't know..." I bite my lip.

He's going to find out that my helmet is defective and I've been keeping memories. But maybe that's not such a bad idea. Maybe I need a new helmet to permanently move on from Henry. Plus, I could certainly use the money.

"I will not look at your character details," he assures.

"Yes, sir. I'll bring my helmet in."

"Great. One more thing before I let you go: what is Grace's favorite restaurant or cuisine?"

"She loves Italian."

Well, it looks like their date is happening. How exciting!

"Thank you, Leila. I will see you at the office." The call ends with a click, and although his deep, commanding voice is gone, I remain sitting with my back straight like a good little secretary.

I sigh and enter the bathroom. As I brush my teeth, I stare at the reflection of the helmet on my bed.

Hopefully, the boss keeps his word and doesn't go snooping. It wouldn't be the end of the world if he saw how my dopamine levels spike and assumed I was having sex. We're both adults. But damn it, I can barely stand it when the man teases me over a bag of chips.

I pack The Machine and haul the heavy box to the bus, where I ride to work. Grace's letter is safely tucked in my purse.

I make it to my desk, and immediately reconsider handing in my helmet. But it's too late, because Henry appears in all his glory, wearing a navy blue suit that has my empty stomach growling.

I know he's Grace's man now, but I can't help but admire those shoulders and chiseled face.

"You brought it. Great," he says, setting a palm on top of the box and not noticing how his index finger brushes my hand.

His voice is even more overwhelming in person.

I clear my throat. "Yes. Oh, and here is the letter." I dig into my purse and retrieve the envelope.

His blank, bored expression warms as soon as it locks on my hand. Grace is one lucky girl.

Ummm so he's going to look into her helmet and go on a date with Grace 👀