Tempt The Boss (Tempt 1)

If I’m on Bluetooth and on my phone, thankfully that overrides the music.

“Hey,” she answers cheerily.

“Hey.” I angrily wipe away the tear that has made its way over my lashes and onto my cheek. “I’m not going back. I’m sorry. I really tried to tough it out. I hate to put you in this position, but I…I just can’t go back,” I finish as my voice cracks.

“Hey, now,” she whispers, her voice softening. “I don’t give a fuck about the job. Are you okay?” I shake my head no while more tears fall freely.

“I’m going to hang up now. I’ll grab a couple of bottles of wine and head to your place. Is this a case for Alanis Morissette?” she asks, because everyone knows Alanis Morissette is the wronged, hurt woman’s anthem, no matter how old they are.

“I already have the CD in my player at home,” I sniffle.

The phone beeps and I see it’s Austin calling me on the other line. I quickly decline his ass.

“Okay, I’m going to go call Barbara and let her know that you aren’t coming back,” she assures me. “See you in an hour.”

“I think she probably knows. There was a scene.” I’m not sure how much of a scene it actually was, but to me, it felt like all of my co-workers were there to witness my humiliation.

“Oh, fuck. No worries, hon, I’ll take care of it.” And she clicks off just in time for the fucking “Let it Go” chorus to ring, loud and clear, through my car.

I make it home in record time, climbing out and thanking the powers that be that the kids are staying with Jake tonight. Every second week, he gets a mid-week sleepover, and tonight is that night.

I open the door, letting myself in, dumping everything down by the door. I walk straight to the kitchen, open the fridge, and grab the open bottle of wine from the door.

Ripping the cork out of the bottle and not bothering with a glass, I bring the bottle to my lips, gulping down enough wine to begin the process of soothing my jagged little edges. Somewhat.

I’m about to go for a second big swig when the back door opens and Kaleigh walks in. She looks at me and drops her yoga mat.

“What happened?” She rushes over to me.

I take that swig before answering her. “I’m uptight, apparently.” I allow those hurt feelings along with the tears I’ve tried to keep at bay to consume me. “According to Austin, it’s why my husband left me,” I whimper before bringing the bottle back to my lips and finishing it off in one long pull.

“What are you talking about? Explain, please.” She goes to the wine fridge in the living room and comes back with another bottle. She looks for the corkscrew, slamming drawers in an effort to find it quickly.

I pull off the jacket that I was wearing today and climb up onto a stool, while she pours two glasses of wine. Handing one to me, she offers a toast. “To assholes, and to the women who think they’re fucking the prize.”

I nod in agreement and finish the glass off. I don’t think I even stop to breathe.

My phone rings from over by the front door. I don’t even move to get it, but Kaleigh does. “It’s Austin. I’m assuming this”—she points to the bottles of wine—“has to do with him?”

I don’t answer verbally; instead, I just offer her a jerky nod yes. She presses decline, and I see her fingers move over the screen. “Don’t bother,” I tell her. “I already quit.”

Her eyes snap up. “What did he do?”

“Well, he borrowed my car, possibly had sex in it, and when I called him out on it, he called me uptight. Me. ME, MEEE!” I shriek while pulling the bottle of wine closer to me. “We need to play Alanis.” I start pouring myself another glass.

“Fuck, I’m going to hide the sharp knives,” she murmurs as she heads into the living room and plugs in my phone. Her fingers move across the screen, and in no time, Alanis’s angry, raspy, knowing voice is serenading us in commiseration.

“After he said I’m uptight, which I totally am not. Remember that time I gave Jake car head in the driveway?” I ask her.

“Yes, I was very proud of you.” She comes around the counter to sit on another stool and listen to the rest of my story.

“Well, after that, he said that maybe if I loosened up a little, I’d still be married.” I look at her, letting the pain I feel at that moment show. “I’ll admit, maybe he’s onto something, but it’s not the whole reason. It’s because that skanky whore waved her non-saggy tits in my husband’s face, and he made the decision to sample what she was offering.” I look up at her with tear-filled eyes. “Right, Kay? I mean, you don’t think Austin is right, do you?”