Your Boss Says Hi!

<p><strong>This is a revenge story</strong>. Well that's my intention anyway . . .</p><p> </p><p> <strong>I Oakley Durant am nobody's fool</strong> at least not once I've seen photographic evidence. If my smug-faced lying boyfriend thinks he can gaslight me out of believing that <strong>I saw</strong> <strong>who and what I saw</strong> on his phone he's got a wake-up call coming in hot. </p><p></p><p>Love may be blind but I can still recognize my own coworker! </p><p> </p><p> But we're at his company picnic and I am not going to make a spectacle of myself. I'm going to have one more free margarita and then I'm going to get the hell out of here.</p><p> </p><p> This is rock-solid plan . . . until the owner of the company Hollis Nyx former NFL player/current <em>Daddy Thick Thighs </em>(ugh don't ask and please do not encourage my use of this nickname - it could only end embarrassingly for me) raises his beer at me and smiles. It would be rude not to say hello and introduce myself.</p><p> </p><p> You know how sometimes hello leads to a conversation which leads to some mild flirtation which leads to two people in the elevator headed up to the president/CEO's impressive corner office? Yeah it's like that.</p><p> </p><p> Listen nobody's looking for a happily ever after here. I know exactly what I'm doing with this man. I'm getting even that's all. This is just one incredibly hot spite-fueled encounter on his huge leather couch. And up against his tinted (probably) windows. And in his private bathroom. And it only makes sense that a gentleman like Hollis Nyx would buy me dinner afterward. But that's where it ends. This is no fairy tale. No swoon-worthy romance.</p><p> </p><p> <em>Nope never going to happen.</em></p>