Million Dollar Devil

13.

Dominques' long legs stretched comfortably across the couch. Her hair in an unruly bun, though somehow she still looks like a super model.
Seated across from her, I curl up in a blanket with my laptop. My eyes fixated on the screen as my fingers move with speed across the keyboard while she scrolls through instagram, occasionally reading the hottest celebrity gossip out loud.

We'd been this way for the past two hours. She had wanted a morning at the mall but I told her if we hang out, this is the best it's going to get. Reluctantly she still came over, because I'm "slightly more interesting than absolute boredom," she had said so lovingly.

"Do you always work this hard on Saturday mornings?" She breaks the silence and lifts on eyebrow, looking at me expectantly, "Or do you only put in overtime for Mr. Hot Stuff, huh?" She sends a mischievous smirk my way as I roll my eyes.

Last week she had done a little AKMO google search and came across a picture of Mr. Hayes. She practically hasn't stopped mentioning him since, managing to find a way to bring him up in every damn conversation just to get on my nerves. She loves to poke the bear it seems.

"Shut up," I chuckle, "I just have a big project I'm trying to get done by Monday." I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose, exhaling deeply. The annual AKMO Christmas Gala was in two weeks and unfortunately I have been tasked with the all-consuming job of being the liaison between Mr. Hayes and the events team.

Every year AKMO throws a extravagant black tie Holiday Party for the entirety of staff and stakeholders. Based on what I had eavesdropped from the front desk girls, it was the event of the year. Giddy with excitement, talk of the extravaganza was spreading like wildfire through the office.  I sat in on a meeting with the events team the day prior, anxiously scribbling notes as quickly as demands and expectations spilled out of Mr. Hayes' mouth. Valet, a live symphony, and of course a fondue fountain. He made his vision for the night very clear and, boy oh boy, it was going to be quite the event. Stakeholders and board members would be served bottles of champagne upwards of a thousand dollars, staff would be receiving beautiful large holiday floral arrangements, and the venue was to be extravagant as we could possibly find. As I listening intently it sounded to me like some sort of 16th century ball, puffy dresses and all.

"Is it that big fancy party?" she asks casually, taking a sip of her tea as she continues scrolling through Instagram.

"Yep," I say with a deep exhale, drawing out the 'p' before sitting deeper into the cushions. A sigh escapes my lips as I look over at the impossibly long to-do list in front of me. "I swear I'm about to loose my shit, I need to take a break. Let's go get coffee or something."

"You know I won't argue with that," Dominique smiles as she quickly jumps up from the couch, snatching her keys out of her big leather purse.

"Damn, you must really want that coffee," I laugh, watching her scramble to get her things together in the most ungraceful fashion. I throw my hair in a bun before wrapping a scarf tightly around my neck and following Dominque out the door.

"Tell me something," Dominque says loudly over the music blasting from the stereo, "What do you think your boss think would do if he knew about your second life?"

I reach forward to turn down the radio, "Girl, the day he finds out is the day I go into the witness protection program." I chuckle, popping a piece of minty gum into my mouth.

"No babe, listen to my question," she says says slowly, "What would Mr. Hayes do if he found out." She annunciates his name slowly before shooting me a pointed look. I sign in response, knowing deep down that it's a question I've pondered many times. None of those times ending with a happy conclusion, almost always including me getting fired and him loosing any ounce of respect he had for me. But I don't care what he thinks of me, at least that's what I've tried to tell myself. I know I shouldn't be so ashamed of it, but for some reason the idea of him knowing sent chills of embarrassment down my spine. I wasn't like the other smart and classy women at AKMO, as much as I wanted to be, I know I never could. People like Mr. Hayes don't associate with people like me. I simply sigh and shrug my shoulders in response to Dominques' question.