Boss Agreement

An unexpected lunch invitation

Despite trying several times, Michael couldn't lift his gaze from the waistline that Stephanie's outfit formed around her waist, and when he finally managed to, after getting stuck in her breasts, it was as if he couldn't escape like an adventurer from two large hills that he couldn't find a way to cross.

"It looks very nice... Yes. It looks very nice," Michael managed to articulate the moment he realized his mouth was dry.

"Still, I'm afraid I can't take it," said Stephanie after the tumultuous exploration to which Michael subjected her body.

"Why can't you take it?" asked Michael, raising his voice, before the warehouse assistant could make a sales suggestion to encourage Stephanie to buy the outfit.

"Because..." Stephanie lowered her gaze and blushed. "It's just too expensive, and since I haven't received my first..."

"I'll pay for it," said Michael without a second thought. "Miss, please put that outfit on my account. My assistant will take it from here."

With a smile that nearly covered her face completely, the saleswoman nodded and prepared the bill before any other complications could ruin the sale.

"But, Mr. Hanks, it's too much, I can't accept it, but if you want, you can deduct it from my salary..."

"I said I'll pay for it," said Michael, looking at Stephanie with a rather furrowed brow, "or do you think I can't afford it?"

"Oh, no, no, sir, I didn't think that, it's just that..." An inner voice warned Stephanie that the best thing she could do in that moment was to remain silent. "Alright. Thank you."

"You can thank me at lunch," said Michael as he took the receipt handed to him by the saleswoman.

"Sir?"

"Don't you eat lunch, young lady? Don't tell me you're one of those young women who only feed on air and then go to the bathroom to vomit after eating a leaf of lettuce."

"Oh, no, that's not it, it's just that..." Once again, the inner voice warned Stephanie that it was best to remain silent. "Alright. Thank you."

"Follow me, young lady," said Michael as he left the warehouse.

Stephanie had to walk at twice her usual speed because every step Michael took was equivalent to three of hers, so despite her efforts, she lagged behind every half block.

"Is this restaurant okay for you, young lady?" Michael asked as he stopped in front of the entrance to D'aggi.

Feeling like she had trotted for two kilometers, Stephanie stopped, breathless, and admired the luxurious entrance of the restaurant Michael suggested they enter.

"Sir, are you sure? Isn't it...?"

The cold look Michael gave her was enough to make Stephanie listen to the inner voice whispering in her head for the third time.

They entered, and the waiter who greeted them assigned them a table by the window. Stephanie was surprised that they hadn't even asked for a reservation because, as far as she knew, in a restaurant of that caliber, it was usual for them to require it.

"Mr. Michael, it's a pleasure to see you today," said the restaurant sommelier. "We have a new reservation of French wine that arrived this morning. Would you like a tasting?"

"No, Guillermo, thank you," replied Michael. "I won't accept a tasting. I want you to bring me the bottle."

"Of course, sir. Right away."

Stephanie's mouth got out of control and this time it was she who felt like she was running out of saliva. The waiter didn't take long to offer them the menu and when Stephanie saw it, she didn't even know what language it was in, whether it was French, Italian, or Turkish. She resorted to the best strategy for such cases and, after pretending to have gone over the menu, she asked Michael what he was going to order.

"Oysters all'aglio," said Michael. "I think they'll go very well with the French wine the sommelier mentioned."

"Then I'll order the same," said Stephanie, proud of how well her strategy had worked to get her out of the trouble of choosing a dish.

The sommelier arrived at that moment with the bottle and, after receiving Michael's approval, he poured two glasses.

"Shall we toast?" asked Stephanie, who now felt more confident, but when she saw the look on Michael's face, she regretted her boldness.

"Don't get it wrong, girl," said Michael as he pulled out his phone. "You're still my assistant and this is a work lunch."

Stephanie didn't understand what Michael was planning to do, but she feared it was going to be another humiliation. At that moment, perhaps due to the anxiety generated by her boss's attitude, Stephanie felt nauseous again and realized that, in her state, it was not advisable for her to drink alcohol.

"I completely forgot. What a bad mother I am!" she told herself while taking advantage of Michael's phone call to go to the bathroom to throw up.

Not much came out of her stomach and when she returned, she was able to overhear her boss's conversation. It seemed to her that he was talking to the same woman he had spoken to that morning. By the time Stephanie sat down, Michael had put away his phone.

"I need you to act like we've known each other for a long time, girl," said Michael. "By the way, I already ordered."

"Act, sir?"

"Yes. What's so hard to understand?"

Stephanie wasn't sure what her boss meant, but she intuited, from his call and what he had just asked her to do, that he wanted to use her to provoke jealousy or show off in front of the woman he had been talking to that day, and for whom he had bought the dress in the bag he was carrying.

"Do you need me to pretend to be a friend of yours, sir? Is that it?" asked Stephanie, just to confirm what she was suspecting.

"That's what I asked you, girl. Yes."

If she had been with any other man, in any other circumstance, Stephanie would have taken the glass of wine in front of her and, regardless of whether it was a reserve from the very vineyard of the wedding at Cana, she would have thrown it in the face of the man in front of her.

"Is that why you bought me this cute outfit? Just to show off and make me pass as one of your little friends? I should take the wine bottle and break it on your perfect face, scoundrel!"

"Okay, sir. I understand," said Stephanie.

Michael's acquaintance didn't take long to enter the restaurant and when Michael saw her, he pretended to have a pleasant and very fluent conversation with Stephanie who, following her boss's gestures, raised her glass and pretended to toast, amid celebratory laughter.

"Dayana, you made it," said Michael when the woman approached their table. "Let me introduce you to Matilda, a childhood friend."

Stephanie would have liked to at least be warned about the name Michael was going to give her, and perhaps a little about the background of their supposed friendship, but now she was left to improvise. She stood up and greeted Dayana, who had the face and body of a top model.

"You didn't tell me you were going to be accompanied," Dayana said after looking at Stephanie as if she were an annoying fly that had landed on her $3,000 jacket. "I think we better leave this for another day."

"But Dayana, I didn't know Matilda was going to be here either. I just recognized her as soon as we hung up. Wasn't that how it happened, Matilda?"

Embarrassed by the spectacle her boss was forcing her to make, Stephanie nodded, not daring to speak for fear of saying something indiscreet that could compromise Michael, although she was dying to expose him.

"Well, Michael, that's very bad," said Dayana, who wasn't going to be convinced. "I see that all your friends turn out to be quite pretty, even those from your childhood."

Having given her verdict, Dayana turned and quickly left the restaurant, followed by Michael, who only pretended to want to stop her. By the time he returned, the waiter had already served the order, but Stephanie didn't dare to try what turned out to be garlic oysters. The smell of garlic alone made her feel nauseous.

"Did everything go well, ma'am?" asked Stephanie, more for the sake of pretending than for real interest, because at that moment she just wanted to get out of the restaurant, as far away from the smell of garlic that was tormenting her.

"Oh, yes, perfect. She'll be calling me this afternoon, and tonight... begging to see me."

"If I'm done, then I think I should go, sir," said Stephanie as soon as she saw Michael sit down.

"But why, aren't you going to...?"

Stephanie was determined not to stay. In her state, she preferred not to try the wine, and she wouldn't put a garlic oyster in her mouth for anything in the world, even if Michael threatened to fire her.

"No, sir. It's best that I start preparing the documents for the meeting we have in half an hour," said Stephanie, imitating at that moment the same gestures as Dayana who, despite her arrogant look, had at least considered her pretty.

Michael didn't say anything, and when Stephanie left the restaurant, she could see him through the window. At that moment, she saw a lonely man who seemed to be wandering with his own demons.

"But that doesn't make him any less of a scoundrel," thought Stephanie. "To deceive me with a lunch at a restaurant of this caliber, only to use me as bait afterwards. He's a jerk. I hope he never even feels sorry for him."