The Boss Crush

Stumbling backwards, I catch my balance on the wall. “Let me go, Sandy!” Tearing my dress free, I whip around so I’m facing her.

I can feel myself getting more upset, my tears turning from water into rage. Balling my fists at my side, I’ve hit my limits. We all have a point of no return, a moment where we lose our shit and don’t see it coming.

All I see is red.

Charging Sandy, I shove her to the ground. Jumping on top of her, we’re struggling with each other. Her hands are in my hair, my hands are in hers. I can hear fabric rip, but I’m not sure if it’s hers or mine.

“Hey! Hey! Enough!” Strong hands peel me easily off of Sandy. “What the hell is going on? Sandy, are you all right? What the hell happened?”

Lyle holds me back while lowering a hand to his sister and helping her to her feet. He’s glancing between us, his eyes confused.

“This bitch is trying to say I stole her stuff. When I didn’t, I didn’t touch her shit.” Sandy fixes her shirt, then brushes her fingers through her hair.

“She’s lying!” I snap, jerking my body forward to yell at her over his shoulder. “She switched my portfolio with blank pages of paper, and sent me in to make a fool of myself.”

Huffing under her breath, she shakes her head, her eyes turning to slits. “Why would I do that, Dalia? Hm? Tell me what reason I have?”

“I. . . I don’t know! But you did it! I know you did!”

“That’s enough. Dalia, if Sandy says she didn’t do it, she didn’t do it.”

“What?” My eyes dart between his, angry and upset that he can’t see the truth. “She’s bullshitting you, Lyle!”

“Look, I know my sister—”

Tearing myself free, I rake my fingers over my face. “You know what, forget it, I’m done with this shit.” Spinning quickly, I storm off. I can’t look at her anymore. I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to hear her. And I don’t want to listen to her spew her lies.

There’s an extra set of steps with mine, causing me to look over my shoulder. Lyle is walking quickly, trying to catch up with me.

“Dalia, wait up.”

“Go away, Lyle.” Picking up my pace, I drop my eyes to the floor.

He’s at my side in a heartbeat, grabbing my shoulder to stop me from walking. “Here,” he says, trying to hand me a pile of papers. “I found this—”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Just look at them and tell me if they look familiar.”

I shift my gaze from his to his hands and snatch the pile from his fingers. It’s all my artwork, every page. “Where did you get this?”

“I found it in the trash. Maybe you dropped them and someone just picked them up and threw them away.”

“Bullshit. I don’t believe you.” Stuffing them into my folder, I tuck it under my arm. “She got you to help her, didn’t she?”

“Help her? Help her with what? What are you talking about?”

“You helped her do this.” Taking a firm step forward, he tries to speak, but I don’t let him get out a single word. “Do you have any idea how hard I worked, and what this did to me? You two ruined my life, you destroyed everything I’ve worked for, and for what? What did I ever do to you, except like you?”

Holding my breath, I grab my lips with my fingers, and my eyes pop open wide.

Shit! I didn’t mean to say that!

I’m such an idiot! My blood starts going and then I say something I never meant to.

Lyle’s eyes are still, stunned, and his brows fold in hard. My eyes gloss over, devastated with how my life is going. Everything is ruined. My future. My dreams. And any chance with my crush.

Why does everything I touch burst into flames and turn to dust?

I can’t do anything right.

I can’t even fight for what I really want.

5

Dalia

Present Day

“Well, how is it?”

“It’s only been one day, Kira. And it’s work, which is good, I guess.”

“Why are you doing that?” she asks harshly.

“Doing what?” I play dumb, trying to skirt around the conversation. I’m not sure I want to tell her everything.

There are two big reasons I’m leaving out details. And they both have the last name Vox.

“Seriously, Dalia, don’t give me a generic answer like that. Is it horrible? Do you love it? Is it everything you thought it would be? I mean, you’ve been pining for a position in New York for such a long time, and now you have it. You must feel good at least. I mean, where’s the excitement?”

Feel good. . . She has no idea.

Should I tell her?

There’s so much temptation to drop this bomb on her, filling her in on the surprise of my life as to who my new bosses are. I’m also hesitant. I know how she is, and I know how she holds onto the past a little more than she should.