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How dare she reject my offers of communication? The least she could do is openly turn me down. That’s better than this silent treatment. I’d rather have her scream and yell at me that I’m an awful person for seducing her than hear nothing at all.

It’s ten at night, but my assistant is used to me calling him around this time.

I go over the usual bullshit for the next day, particularly about the meeting, but before he becomes confident that our conversation is over, I say, “I need you to type up a memo to distribute tomorrow morning. It needs to go out as soon as you get in. It must be the first thing every employee sees when they open their company email.”

“Yes, Ms. Marcon.” The pause tells me Vern is opening a new note on his tablet. “Go ahead and tell me what to write.”

“First of all, I’m taking on a second assistant. As of tomorrow morning, Alessa Penrose is my second assistant.” I adjust my Bluetooth as I approach my window and gaze out at the blinking lights of a sleepy northwestern city. “There’s something else, too.”

Vern asks me to repeat myself multiple times regarding the second note because his disbelief is that overwhelming. Am I stuttering? I’ll say what I have to say a hundred more times if that’s how long it takes for his brain to work again.

After I hang up, I call the head of my company’s HR department. There are a few matters we must sort out. Now.

Chapter 7

Alessa

Oh, man, I’ve made a huge mistake.

I spent the whole weekend freaking out that I had ruined everything, and all because my boss’s touch got the best of me. I ain’t saying I didn’t want it. I’m saying that I shouldn’t have, because one night’s fantastic fuck is going to haunt me for the rest of my professional life.

I’m gonna get fired. I can feel it in my shaking bones.

My internship is tied closely to my degree. If future employers find out I was fired from such a prestigious internship, I will never work in my field again. I’ve completely boned my career before it’s even happened, and all because I wanted to screw my boss.

It was great. I dreamed about it that night. I keep thinking about it in intervals, my body shuddering from the memory of the pleasure she gave me.

She wanted me to go home with her. She was going to give me more. What did I do? Ha! I ran home like a kid who couldn’t handle adult things.

I’m not proud. I should have at least said something. I’m also not proud that I’ve ignored her messages and immediately threw the roses away. Those beautiful, lovely-smelling roses bathed in gold dust. Okay, so I didn’t throw them away. I couldn’t bring myself to do that. I threw away the note and gave the roses to my next-door neighbor, who works three jobs so she and her son can live in a one-bedroom apartment. She needed them more than me.

What do I do now?

Well, right now I sit in my Econ lecture, but my head isn’t one to listen to facts or absorb charts regarding world and local economies. Sucks, because this is one of my best subjects. I’m also not too shabby at Statistics. I like to think my skills in these areas are how I got my afternoon internship, but now I wonder if it’s because the boss thinks I’m hot.

She must still think I’m hot if she’s constantly inviting me out this weekend. I’m supposed to go to the office this afternoon.

How will I do it? Walk through those doors without collapsing in embarrassment? Does anyone else know? Was I initiated into some club I didn’t know about? Are there other interns who have been on the other end of Ms. Marcon’s attention? Do I work with them? Will they know I fucked her the moment I waltz into the office? Because I walk a certain way? Because I look nervous?

I drop my pen at the thought of everyone I work with knowing I murdered my virginity with my boss’s help.

Why-oh-why couldn’t she have been a random encounter I met at a party or something?

Something strikes me. Something that makes me feel ill.

She specifically called me to come to her empty office late Friday night. She didn’t even care about the files I brought.Didn’t even look at them. Ms. Marcon went right into flirting with me. How long did it take her to get under my skirt? Fifteen fucking minutes?

I mean, I know I’m pretty desperate for attention – let alone hot attention – at times, but that’s sad even for me. Especially my first time having sex!

My friend elbows me in the back of the lecture hall. “Hey. Take note. You know this stuff’s gonna be on the midterm.”

Yes, yes, I know. Fuck me, do I know!

I can’t pay attention. I should call out of work. Tell them I’m feeling too ill to come in. I should at least take one of Julianna’s calls, though.

God knows I won’t.

After class, I grab some lunch and stare at the high-rises in the near distance. I can easily see Ms. Marcon’s building. She’s probably up there right now.