Bully Me: Class of 2020 Read online

  “The second I wake,” I promise, and we say our goodbyes. I slide the phone into the pocket of my jeans and make my way back inside the club.

  I don’t return to the bar, heading up the side stairway to the upper level, finding a perfect spot in front of the railing to people watch. I scan the room below, watching Emilia flirt with some guy at the bar with mild amusement, while my gaze continues roaming in search of my prey.

  I find Demi, swaying her hips in time to the beat of the music, in the middle of the dance floor with her friend with the purple hair. Her limbs are elegant, her moves sophisticated, as she dances, oblivious to the attention she’s garnering from various men surrounding her.

  And I get it.

  Demi is a beautiful woman, and she carries herself with grace. She’s not one of those women who works hard to look sexy. She exudes sex appeal without even trying. And the fact she’s blissfully unaware only adds to the attraction.

  I know what Drew or any of the guys from my old circle would think if they saw her. That she’s the fucking image of Abby with her long, wavy, dark hair, smoldering brown eyes, pouty lips, and slim frame. I can’t deny they share similar physical traits—with the exception of her tits, because Mother Nature was generous with Demi in a way she wasn’t with Abby, but it’s more the shared characteristics I’m drawn to.

  Guess I have a type.

  Demi is comfortable in her own skin. She doesn’t let anyone tell her how to be. And she’s got backbone. She’s a lot less mouthy than Abby, but when pushed, she knows how to push back.

  I’ve tried to pinpoint exactly when Demi became a source of intrigue rather than irritation, and I think it’s the fact she had ammunition to blackmail me and she chose not to.

  I know her father needs constant care, thanks to his stroke, and I doubt there’s much left of the generous severance package the company gave him, so I wouldn’t have faulted her for exploiting the situation to her advantage, but she didn’t do that.

  If she had come to me, when I still believed I was married to Abby, and threatened to expose what happened Christmas night in the office, I would’ve written her a blank check on the spot. Because I was terrified for weeks that Abby would find out exactly what’d gone down that night and I would’ve done anything to stop it.

  A grudging respect for Demi sprouted then although I hide that fact behind cruel words, sneering looks, and a generally abrasive manner.

  Because it’s better than the alternative—admitting to myself I’ve traded one obsession for another.

  Chapter 4

  Demi

  THE ROOM TILTS, and I grab on to Xena’s arm to steady myself. Compared to what I used to drink on a night out, I’ve barely touched alcohol tonight, but I’m out of practice, and I’m definitely feeling a bit tipsy. But it’s a happy buzz, and I haven’t felt this relaxed in ages. “I’m gonna grab some water,” I shout in my bestie’s ear.

  “I’ll come with,” she shouts back, but I shake my head, pushing her at her boyfriends. “Dance with your men. I’ll be right over there.” I point at an empty stool at the far end of the bar.

  “We won’t be long,” she hollers, smacking a kiss to my temple.

  I fight several pairs of grabby hands as I make my way toward the bar, giggling at the attention because it feels good to be desired, even if it’s only superficial, and I have zero plans to indulge any man tonight.

  I haul myself up on the stool, using the footrest to balance myself as I lean over the bar to snag the barman’s attention. I order a water, and I’m just about to sit back down when fingers brush against the back of my bare thigh. I swivel around, ready to punch the sleazy douche in the face, when I’m stopped short.

  My eyes widen, and my mouth gapes open. “Isaac?!”

  “Surprise, babe.” My ex lifts me off the stool by the hips, reeling me into his strong embrace. The familiar scent of vanilla and sandalwood surrounds me, and I breathe him in, relaxing against him for a few seconds.

  I ease back, keeping him at arm’s length, as I peer up at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to wish you a happy birthday.” He produces a slim, rectangular box from somewhere behind his body, handing it to me.

  “Isaac. I can’t accept this.” I give it back at him. “We’re not together anymore.”

  He shoves the gift into the back pocket of his jeans before tilting my chin up with his finger. Earnest blue eyes drill into mine. “That’s something I was hoping we could fix.”

  My shocked gaze is locked on Isaac, so I don’t notice the guy in the dark-fitted shirt until he slams into my ex, almost sending him tumbling to the floor. But Isaac has sharp reflexes, honed from years playing football with the Black Bears, and he grabs on to the edge of the counter in time, stopping his backward trajectory.

  “What the hell is your problem?” he snaps as he straightens up.

  “My bad,” a familiar voice says, turning the blood in my veins to ice.

  I jerk my head around, staring at Charlie with suspicion.

  “Bumbling. Fancy running into you here,” he says, wearing his trademark devilish grin. The one he usually puts on when he’s gearing up to insult or humiliate me.

  “You know this jerk?” Isaac wraps a protective arm around my shoulders, shooting daggers at Charlie.

  “Not by choice,” I admit. “He’s my boss.”

  “Charles Barron the Third,” Charlie says, introducing himself without invitation while glaring at my ex.

  What a pompous ass.

  “And I’d be careful what you say—unless you want Bumbling here to lose her job.” He pins the full extent of his dark glare on me. “What a shame that would be.”

  “Why does he call you Bumbling?” Isaac asks, scrubbing his free hand along his smooth jawline, as he peers at Charlie, trying to figure out his game.

  “He thinks he’s amusing,” I reply, deliberately ignoring Charlie even though every molecule of my body is finely attuned to his presence. “Bumbling as in bumbling idiot.”

  Isaac’s jaw tenses, his back stiffens, and I know he’s preparing to go in to battle on my behalf.

  I place my hand on his chest. “Don’t waste your energy. He’s not worth it.” My eyes sparkle with mirth, and I blame the beer on my next outburst. “Besides, I have my own pet names for him.” I talk to Isaac, but my eyes are locked on Charlie’s as the words leave my mouth. “Sometimes, he’s Nimrod, per the ancient definition. Other times, he’s pencil dick.” I mock smile at Charlie, annoyed when his lips curve up at the corners. The guy must have a stone heart because nothing ever penetrates that hard shell.

  He smirks. “So, you think I’m a tyrannical leader with a long, thin dick which is interesting because you may well be right on the first, but we both know the second is a big, fat lie.”

  I spot the evil glint in his eye as he eyeballs my ex, and I clamp my hand down over his mouth before he can spill the beans on our night together. Not that it really matters. Isaac and I had broken up by then, and despite what he just said to me, we’re not getting back together.

  Still, I spent three years of my life with Isaac, and there was a time I thought he was the one.

  What he thinks of me matters.

  “Charles.” A willowy blonde sidles up to Charlie, circling her slender arm around his back, while peering up at him with a confused expression on her face.

  A flash of annoyance ghosts over Charlie’s face, but it’s so fleeting I’m not sure my drunken mind didn’t conjure it up.

  “Darling.” Charlie smiles adoringly at the woman as he envelops her in his arms. “I’m sorry I was gone so long, but I just bumped into the help, and I felt obligated to say hello.”

  My hackles are instantly raised. It’s one thing for him to insult me in the confines of his office and quite another to insult me with an audience.

  “Consider your obligation fulfilled, Charles.” I enunciate the word on purpose, knowing he’ll hate it because I’ve watched him bristle time a
nd time again when some of the older members of staff call him that.

  I guess it reminds him of his father.

  At any other time, I would never stoop so low, but my claws are out, and it’s every man, and woman, for themselves. “I’m contractually bound to deal with you during the work week, but I’m under no legal compulsion to stomach your disgusting company outside of the office, so do us both a favor and fuck the hell off.”

  Heat rolls off Charlie in deadly waves, knocking me off kilter. He tightens his grip on his date as he drills me with a look that promises a world of pain for daring to challenge him in public.

  Well, fuck him.

  He can’t dictate to me what I do and say outside working hours.

  “Careful, Bumbling.” His dark voice slashes at my alcohol-fueled confidence, making large dents in it. “I’ll think you’ll find, if you read the small print of your contract, that you represent the business at all times and any conduct unbecoming of a company employee can result in disciplinary action.”

  The blonde smirks, clearly enjoying the show, and I scowl at her as Isaac opens his mouth, to defend me, no doubt. I send him a subtle headshake, and he clamps his lips shut.

  “Insubordination of the president of the company, irrespective of where or when it takes place, is strictly forbidden. Check the disciplinary rules if you don’t believe me.” He swipes his finger along the screen of his cell, thrusting it at me.

  I refuse to take it or this bullshit charade. “Just go away, Charlie.”

  His green eyes turn darker. “Apologize and I’ll let this pass.”

  I crank out a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” I turn to Isaac. “Are you ready to leave?”

  “I was ready the instant this asshole stuck his nose into our business,” he replies, taking my elbow and steering me away.

  But Charlie grabs hold of my other arm, drawing me back. “Think of how badly you need this job, Demi,” he whispers in my ear, and I hate the shudder that ripples through my body as his warm breath swirls around me. “Who’ll pay the medical bills if you’re out of work?”

  My fists clench into balls at his veiled threat. He’s never indicated he knew anything about my personal life, but I should’ve known he’d pry into my affairs. It’s not exactly a secret around the office, because most people I work with knew my dad, but Charlie has never once brought him up to me.

  “Do. Not. Bring. My father. Into this.” I grind my teeth down as anger radiates through ever cell in my body.

  “Drop to your knees, kiss my feet, and we’ll call it even.”

  I don’t need to think about it. Not even for one second. Hell will freeze before I kiss that asshole’s feet or bow down to him in any way. “Get fucked, Charlie.”

  He barks out a dry laugh. “Oh, I fully intend to.” He shoots a wickedly carnal look at the blonde hanging off his arm, and most every woman in the vicinity swoons because they’ve all clearly got shit for brains.

  “Darling. I need you now,” she says, rubbing her lithe body up against his as she palms his crotch, uncaring who sees.

  “Let’s go,” Isaac hisses, taking my hand in his large, warm palm.

  “Enjoy my sloppy seconds,” Charlie says, projecting his voice so everyone around us can hear. “She’s not even that good of a lay, but if you’re that desperate, go for it.”

  My hand is raised before I’ve even processed the motion, and I slap him firmly across one cheek, my entire body thrumming with anger. “How dare you.” I push myself all up in his face, watching out of the corner of my eye as Bo and Leo materialize from the dance floor, holding Isaac back, attempting to talk him out of going postal on Charlie’s ass.

  Charlie’s eyes are cold and devoid of emotion as he takes hold of the blonde’s hand while staring at me. “Thank you, Bumbling, for finally giving me what I’ve wanted since that night.”

  He leans down close to my face, and Isaac shouts and squirms as the guys struggle to hold him at bay. “Your ass on a platter.” His lips curl into a sneer. “Don’t bother showing up on Monday. You can collect your termination papers from the human resources department.” He storms off, towing the blonde, teetering on high heels, behind him.

  “Fuck.” I slap a hand against my forehead. “What the hell have I done?”

  _______________

  “He can’t fire you,” Bo says, when we’re back at the apartment he shares with Xena and Leo.

  “Eh, not to be the harbinger of doom, but he probably can,” Leo says, handing me a vodka shot.

  “Babe. We’re supposed to be cheering her up,” Xena protests, warning Leo to back down with her eyes.

  “Leo is right.” The asshole was too. Now that I’m sober-ish, I’m seeing things in a different light. “It is against company policy to do or say anything which might bring the company into disrepute. I’m pretty sure slapping the president, the current majority shareholder of the business, in public, falls into that category.”

  “From what you’ve said, he’s been verbally abusive to you since he took over that role. Maybe, if you lodge a countercomplaint against him, it will go away,” Isaac says, rubbing my arm in a gesture I used to find comforting.

  I wiggle my arm out from under him, pretending I don’t see his puzzled, hurt expression. “I’m pretty sure it’s too late for that. If I bring it up now, it’ll look like I’m trying to fabricate an argument not to fire me.” I knock back my vodka shot, relishing the sharp taste as it glides down my throat. “I should’ve just bitten my tongue. God knows, I’ve had enough practice around him.”

  “He can’t get away with this,” Isaac huffs, indignant on my behalf. “He’s a fucking bully, and there are laws against that.” He runs his hands through his sandy-blond hair in a clear show of agitation.

  “Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise,” Xena says, topping up my shot glass. “He’s made your life hell.”

  “And you’ve almost a year’s experience under your belt now,” Bo adds. “That will look great on your résumé. I’m sure you’ll pick up work elsewhere.”

  Maybe, I’ll apply for a job at Manning Motors.

  That’d be sure to piss Charlie off.

  I shrug. “Maybe.” Who knows, perhaps my friends are right and it’s the best thing to happen, so why do I feel so ill at the thought of leaving?

  The others discreetly disappear, giving Isaac and me some time alone to talk. Xena has offered him her couch for the night, because I’ve already got dibs on the guest bedroom.

  “I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with all that shit on your own,” Isaac says, handing me a cup of chamomile tea.

  I pull the blanket off the back of the couch, draping it over my bare legs and feet. “It hasn’t been so bad. The job is actually more interesting than I thought it’d be.”

  “But it’s not accounting.”

  “No.” I blow on the top of the cup, taking a tentative sip of the hot tea. “But it probably would’ve led to a job in the finance department.”

  “How’s your dad?” he asks, purposely switching the subject.

  “He’s just been diagnosed with stage four stomach cancer.”

  “Shit. I’m sorry, baby.” He scoots closer, attempting to pull me into his arms, but I shuck him off.

  “Don’t, Isaac. And I’m not your baby anymore.”

  “You’re pissed.”

  I turn to face him.

  He’s biting on his lower lip and running his hands through his hair. “I know I went a bit crazy these past few months, but you left me, and I was distraught.” He leans forward, stabbing me with a sincere look. “None of the girls I was with meant anything.” He reaches for my hand, but I shake my head, and he pulls back. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

  “You’ve a funny way of showing it,” I say, in between sipping my tea.

  The truth is, I was a little hurt when my ex-roommate and best friend told me about Isaac’s new manwhore rep around campus but not nearly as hurt as I should’ve been. It beca
me obvious, very quickly, that what Isaac and I shared was over long before I broke things off. Something I did because trying to maintain a long-distance relationship, as well as working full-time, and caring for my disabled father, would never have worked out.

  Even though it killed me back then, I knew ending things was the best thing for both of us.

  And I haven’t regretted my decision, because the truth is, I haven’t missed him.

  Not in the way I should.

  “You didn’t reach out to me, at all, after I left UMaine. Not even to inquire after Dad.” That disappointed me above everything, because Isaac and I were great friends before we became more, and I thought he might at least have checked in on me from time to time.

  “I wanted to, but you hurt me.”

  I stare at him incredulously, wondering where the sweet, considerate guy I fell for has disappeared to.

  I guess I’m not the only one who’s changed.

  “Isaac. My dad had a stroke. He almost died. He was paralyzed and kicked out of his job. It’s not like I made a conscious choice to break up with you, but it was the only decision that made sense.” I shake my head in disgust. “And from what I’ve heard, it seems like you didn’t have much difficulty moving on.”

  He, at least, has the decency to look ashamed.

  Silence engulfs us for a few minutes.

  “Did you really hook up with that jerk?” he asks, and I’m tempted to hit him. After everything I just said, that’s what he wants to say to me?

  “It was one time. When I had temporary brain failure,” I quip, because that’s the only way I can reconcile the epic mistake in my head.

  “Have you dated?” he asks, continuing to pry.

  Man, he really is clueless. “I barely have time to breathe most days, let alone date, Isaac.”

  “I’m sorry I abandoned you. That was insensitive and hurtful of me.” He moves in closer. “But I’m here now. I want to be here for you if you’ll let me make it up to you.” Sincerity oozes from his pores, and I know he means it, but he’s got blinkers on.

  “I forgive you, Isaac, and I appreciate you saying that, and coming to see me, but what we have is in the past, and it’s time you forgot about me. I will always cherish the time we shared, but we’re not right for one another.”