Page 1 of The Boss (Straight Men #2)

There’s a specific type of nausea that comes with new beginnings. It sits low in your gut, somewhere between excitement and fear, and churns like a centrifuge. I’d felt it before—the first day of freshman wrestling practice, the morning of my final exams at Gettysburg College, and now, pulling into the parking lot of Nova Systems, Inc. The building loomed ahead, all mirrored windows and sharp lines, like a steel-and-glass monolith in the heart of Providence, Rhode Island, my new home. It was a corporate fortress like a million others across the country, but the thrill of breaking into the professional world made it feel special.

As I stepped out of my car, the early fall breeze swirling around me, I caught my reflection in the glass and gave my hair a quick fix. Adjusting my tie for the hundredth time, I wished I’d thought to size up my wardrobe. My white dress shirt and beige chinos fit fine only a year ago, but college wrestling had a way of transforming ‘fit’ into ‘painted on.’

Not much I could do about it now—I just hoped nobody would notice. Starting a new job meant dressing the part, even if my lucky jockstrap was cutting into my gluteal folds under these stupid trousers. Lucky or not, it wasn’t exactly comfortable, but superstitions die hard. Especially ones that made me win the NCAA Northeast Wrestling Regional Championship. Hey, everyone needs their talismans sometimes.

My phone buzzed inside my pocket and I swiftly pulled it out. It was my buddy Tyler.

‘Good luck on your initiation into the capitalist grind, C-man ,’ the message read. ‘ Break a leg or something.’

For a moment, I was tempted to respond with something flirty, like I always used to before. But then I remembered that Tyler now had a boyfriend—his ex-coach. He was happily in love, now a senior at Williams College, and I was happy for him. We had become really good friends over the past year, and it was sweet of him to offer support. So, I simply typed, ‘ Thanks, T-bag. I’ll let you know if I shit my pants .’

His reply was instant: three flexed biceps emojis.

Stuffing my phone back inside my pocket, I took a deep breath and walked into the building.

Inside, the lobby was a cathedral of corporate ambition. The ceiling stretched high, the sleek light fixtures looking like modern art installations. The receptionist’s desk, a sculpted slab of marble, gleamed brightly, and on the wall behind it, a massive logo spelled out Nova Systems in brushed steel letters. The air was warm yet crisp, laced with the faint aroma of fresh coffee and expensive cologne.

“Excuse me,” I said to the receptionist/security guard, a bald, serious-looking man in a dark blue suit. “I’m starting today and I’m not really sure where I’m supposed to go.”

He gave me a once-over, then returned his gaze to his computer. “Position?”

“Excuse me?”

“What position are you starting?”

“Oh. Software engineer.”

“Ninth floor.”

“Thanks.”

I went to the elevators trying not to look like a lost kid, the suit squeezing my body with every step. Several people gathered while I waited, and all of us entered the elevator together. One by one they dispersed, leaving on their floors, until I was alone again. I used the chance to check myself in the large mirror and adjust my tie one more time. My pants were too fucking tight—so tight I might as well have been wearing my wrestling singlet. On the plus side, my ass looked amazing, the thin fabric hugging my glutes like a second skin. Let’s just hope my new coworkers appreciate the view rather than report me to HR for inappropriate dress code—at least until I get the chance to update my office attire.

At last, the number nine appeared above the door and I stepped out into a large, open-plan office filled with dozens of desks and people. Everything gleamed, from the huge wall-to-wall windows to the bright glass partitions separating workstations. The floor was carpeted in a neutral shade of gray, and several strategically placed plants jazzed up the space. It felt so different from the old-school campus vibe I’d left behind that for a moment I stood paralyzed.

“Christopher Landry?”

The voice snapped me out of my awestruck daze. Turning, I saw a woman striding toward me, a clipboard in one hand and a wide, welcoming smile on her face. She was maybe in her mid-thirties, her dark brown hair swept into a sleek bun, and her tailored blazer screaming efficiency.

“Yes, that’s me,” I said, reaching for my tie again before I stopped myself.

“I’m Alicia. Office manager, onboarding specialist, and resident problem solver. Welcome to Nova Systems,” she said, extending a hand.

“Thank you. I’m excited to be here,” I said, shaking her hand and hoping my voice didn’t betray how overwhelmed I felt.

“Good energy. We like that,” she said with a grin. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”

She led me through a maze of glass-walled conference rooms and rows of sleek desks, each one outfitted with dual monitors and an ergonomic chair. People moved with purpose, their conversations low and clipped, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter. Alicia narrated as we walked, pointing out break rooms, meeting spaces, and the all-important coffee machines, her tone light but practiced.

“So, Nova Systems specializes in software solutions for logistics and supply chain management,” she explained. “Perhaps not the sexiest industry, but we make it work. We have offices in Toronto and London, but our headquarters are here, in Providence. We’re big on collaboration here, so don’t be afraid to ask questions or pitch ideas.”

“Got it.” I nodded, trying to absorb everything and suppress the feeling that I was in way over my head. “And what’s the vibe like? I mean, the workplace culture?”

Alicia smiled. “Good question. We’re a mix of buttoned-up professionalism and laid-back camaraderie. We employ promising candidates like yourself soon after they graduate and offer them a chance to hone their skills and advance through the ranks. Many of them stay with us for their entire careers. That’s why our workforce is filled with people of all ages, from mid-twenties upward. Mr. Steele sets the tone from the top—he’s the CEO and our boss. He founded the company fifteen years ago as a small start-up and transformed it into a multi-million-dollar business.”

“Wow,” I said, stopping myself from giving a whistle at the last second. “Respect.”

“He took risks when others played it safe,” she continued, the esteem plain in her voice, “and somehow, they always paid off. That’s why Nova Systems is where it is today. He has high standards and can seem a bit intimidating, but he’s fair. You’ll see.”

We reached a desk near the corner windows, where Alicia set her clipboard down. “This is you. Great view, huh?”

It was. The window overlooked the city skyline, the late morning sun glinting off distant rooftops. For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would feel like to belong here, to climb the ranks and make my mark.

“Here are your onboarding materials,” Alicia said, handing me a stack of papers. “This packet covers everything from company policies to emergency procedures. Your computer is all set up, so you can log in and get yourself familiar with your tasks. Feel free to look around, chat, and get to know your coworkers. The cafeteria is on the first floor when you feel like taking a lunch break. I’ll come by and see how you’re settling in later, but right now I got to take care of something with our marketing department.” She gave me a reassuring smile. “You are now officially part of the Nova family. Are you ready for the big leagues?”

I laughed nervously. “I hope so.”

* * *

The first few hours flew by in a blur of introductions, logins, and learning the quirks of Nova’s systems. A couple of coworkers stopped by my desk to say hello, confirming Alicia’s words about the team being a mix of seasoned professionals and younger hires like me. One of them, a cute-looking guy named Darren, leaned over my desk with a grin.

“Newbie, huh?” he said. “They’ve got you on Alicia’s onboarding speed-run?”

“Something like that,” I replied, chuckling.

“She’s great, but watch out. She’ll have you signing up for committees before you know it.” Darren smiled and gave me a wink.

“Noted,” I said, grateful for the easy companionship.

By mid-afternoon, I was settling into a rhythm. The work was straightforward but engaging, and I could already tell this was a place where I’d learn a lot—if only I could keep up. I was halfway through reviewing some code when Alicia reappeared at my desk, trusty clipboard in hand.

“How’s it going?” she asked, her tone brusque but kind.

“Good, I think. Nobody’s yelled at me yet, so that’s a win,” I said with a smile.

She smiled in return. “That’s the spirit. Listen, I was supposed to run this report up to Mr. Steele, but I’ve got a situation in accounting that needs my attention. Think you’re up for it?”

I hesitated, the earlier nerves creeping back. But this was my chance to prove myself. “Absolutely,” I said, standing up and taking the file she handed me.

“Perfect. You’re about to meet the man himself. Come on, I’ll walk you to the elevators.” Setting a brisk pace, she talked while I strode beside her, trying to keep up. “I wouldn’t normally ask you to do this, but Melissa, his PA, had to leave early for an appointment with her obstetrician. She’s eight months pregnant, and she’s wrapping up her last week in the office before maternity leave. We’re already a little lost without her, but Mr. Steele has a firm health-first policy. His office is on the top floor, end of the hall. Big mahogany double doors. Since Mel isn’t there to announce you, just knock and go in. Don’t worry—he doesn’t bite. Usually,” she added with a grin.

My stomach flipped as we reached the elevators. “Any advice?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

“Just be yourself,” she said, pressing the buttons. “And maybe don’t spill coffee on him. It’s happened before.”

“Got it.”

As she stepped into an elevator going down, I took the one going up. The ride to the executive floor felt endless, the soft hum of Muzak doing nothing to calm my nerves. When the doors slid open, I entered a quieter, more refined atmosphere. Plush carpeting replaced the commercial covering below, and the walls were adorned with tasteful art. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. It was just a report. Just a quick delivery. How bad could it be?