Boss Undercover: Part 1 (Boss Undercover Series) Read online

So, maybe she was being more of a dick that night. He had a point. What was his part in all of this? It wasn’t right for her lead on Jason. Then, there was the question: was she doing just the same with Zack, and arguably leading him on too? What did she want? If she wanted Zack, why didn’t her mind let her? And if she didn’t want Jason, why was her mind telling her to lead him on? As much as she hated confessing, she knew every part of Jason’s involvement was tangled up with her state of mind surrounding Zack. It just made sense.

  She sat in her room all night, hearing the odd door opening, closing, and footsteps across the corridor, but not once a sound of a voice. He was pissed off. She was pissed off. Only hers was questionable.

  On the following morning, Claire awoke with reminders of last night—from the hugging of her fitted dress to the eerie silence that lingered about. Pushing her feet out of the bed, Claire ran her fingers through her bedraggled locks and then rubbed her tired eyes in effort to spur her on for the day ahead. She knew it was not going to be as promising as one could hope, and with the problem of both Zack and Jason, it wasn’t going to be easy, either.

  Shuffling her feet towards her bedroom door, she counted in her head to ten before turning the handle. Part of her had expected Zack to be waiting there, as sad as that sounded, yet he was not there, nor could she hear the running splutter of water from the shower, and when she headed through the corridor, she took a single peek through his open bedroom door. Zack’s duvet was tangled, but there was not a soul to be seen. She could only wonder if he perhaps left early to go to the gym or completely escaped.

  How strange it was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee on her own. She had gotten used to Zack’s morning ritual: his tea or coffee, his cornflakes or just toast, and if he was feeling adventurous, he’d whip up a batch of pancakes. Now, it was just Claire, her dull coffee, and a dry piece of burnt toast.

  And then Monday came. Zack hadn’t shown his face at all. She finally heard his footsteps around ten o’clock at night. She wanted to talk to him, but she chose the coward’s route and remained tucked in her room, where she’d been for the majority of the day.

  The journey on the bus felt empty. She’d gotten used to him being there. It was blatantly stupid what they argued over. He had every right to be mad. Maybe it was because he hated being used. It didn’t mean he was interested; he was just annoyed that he wasn’t solely invested in, even if Claire hadn’t wanted to invest those sorts of feelings into Jason. But what about Friday? Had he not stopped them? Maybe he wasn’t feeling it, or he had, in fact, heard a noise. But where was the sense in that? Her mind didn’t want to admit it, so she turned to look outside, trying to pay attention to the crowds of traffic outside.

  Darren sat ahead at the kitchen table, half-asleep and stirring the shit out of his cup of tea as Claire entered. Thankfully neither Jason nor Zack had made an entrance, leaving her some time to clear her mind of guilt. His head lifted slowly, and the edges of his lips curled as Claire approached.

  “You look tired,” Claire remarked as she took a seat opposite him.

  “That’s because I am,” Darren replied, placing the teaspoon on the side.

  “What did you do last night then?” she asked, curious as to why he looked like he just wrestled with the duvet all night.

  Darren chuckled after he took a sip. “You wanna know the details, do you?”

  “Well, knowing you, it’s not going to be clean. Is it?”

  “Nope.” He smiled. “It certainly isn’t. I guess that’s what young love is like. I’ll leave the details out.” He swallowed a mouthful of his tea, gasping as he sat back. “I needed that. So, how was your weekend?”

  “Honestly, shit. I had my old roommate around. You remember Abbey, right? I think you met her here and there. Well, she had an argument with her boyfriend. I then went on another date with Jason. And really, I’m being such a shit person because I’m leading him on,” she confessed, leaving out the details on Zack.

  “Well, shit, Claire,” Darren said. “I was expecting something like you had sex with him in the backseat of his car, and you’re feeling incredibly sore like a virgin, ’cause we know how long it’s been for you.” He raised his brows in a confronting manner. “So, what are you going to do about Jason? ’Cause I hate to break it you, love, but leading a guy on never goes well, especially one who’s cute and adorable like Jason.”

  “I’m going to have to tell him eventually. I don’t know what’s wrong with me these days, Darren. I feel sick of myself. I genuinely don’t understand,” she sighed.

  “Is there another guy in all this? Because usually there’s two types of leading on: either you’re desperate for attention, as in hoe for life, or you don’t want to confess your feelings for another,” he explained. “Now, I know, honey, that you’re not a hoe, but if you ever wanted to be, I will—no matter what—support you. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Gee—”

  “Speak of the devil,” he interjected, glaring at Claire.

  Carefully, she moved around in her chair, expecting to see Zack, but it was much worse—Jason. Instantly, as weak as she could she be, Claire sunk into her chair and hid her face with the side of her hand, hoping he wouldn’t suspect that the brunette sitting in the chair was Claire. But if anyone had common sense around here, they all knew Claire hung out with Darren; it was a running joke in the office of them being twins at one point, for they rarely were seen without the other.

  “Hey, Darren,” Jason said.

  Darren’s eyes lit up like a fireworks parade as he replied joyfully, “Jason, good to see you. How was your weekend?”

  Claire could feel Jason’s smile and eyes burning at the back of her head as he said, “Wonderful. Just wonderful. And yours?”

  “Oh, lovely. Was just one of those weekends.”

  Claire’s eyes pinpointed onto Darren’s, knowing all too well that he was thoroughly enjoying this and would gleefully take a front row seat with a bag of popcorn for this drama.

  “Claire,” Jason began, sending prickles of anxiety across her skin. “Could we talk?” he asked. She nodded, slowly getting to her feet, and watched as Darren mouthed encouraging words before pretending to find his empty cup of tea more interesting than whatever was about to occur between herself and Jason.

  Rubbing her wrists anxiously together as she followed Jason out of the kitchen, she began to think of ways she could break it down to him. Or rather slowly let him loose from the illusion that they made a great couple together. Either way, she needed to make sure it was well-deserving and wouldn’t demoralise the poor man. Jason headed out into the emergency stairwells—a place that Claire was all too familiar with.

  His smile broke out immediately, and his hands found her own. “Claire, man. It’s been barely a day, and I’ve already missed you. The other night was just—it was phenomenal, baby. I can call you that, right?” He chuckled with a blush.

  Claire's smile was weak as she encouraged a word or two from her mouth. “Yeah—about that.”

  Jason couldn’t even remain patient a second longer—he launched his lips against hers. Claire’s eyes opened further in amazement as he deepened the kiss, whereas she instead stood there, longing to hold onto the rails of the stairs for stability. Finally, after another second, he pulled back, smiling with confidence. How was she going to let the guy down now? He had literally just pounced on her vulnerable lips there and then, just like a loitering fly quickly snapped in by a hungry spider.

  “J-Jason. I—”

  “No, don’t say anything,” Jason interrupted, pressing his forefinger against her lips. “You can tell me how amazing I am over a coffee at lunch, okay? Gosh, this feeling you’re giving me is breathtaking.” He pecked her cheek, then smiled as he headed out the door. It would have been hysterical from an outsider’s view: a grown-ass man acting like a love-sick teenager. It was more hysterical on Claire’s character. She wasn’t normally ever bashful. Claire knew she was the kind of woman to tell
a person straight, and now here she was, completely going against what was morally right, and who she was. Had someone stole her identity?

  Claire gaped. Did that just happen? Did he just kiss me? Could she say she allowed that to happen just then? Well, to be honest, no, because it was an absolute surprise.

  Claire sluggishly trailed towards her cubicle, where an eagerly anticipating Darren sat in her chair, biting at the end of his blue pen. He got up, gesturing that she take her seat. Claire slowly sat down, blinking several times to adjust to the fact that what just happened, happened.

  “I gotta say,” Darren blurted. “For a man who got let down, he sure looks happy. You sure the guy even wanted to date you?”

  Claire remained staring into space as she muttered, “I barely managed a word.”

  Darren snapped his fingers. “Claire! Over here. Not over there. What do you mean?”

  She blinked this time with full awareness of her surrounding as she replied, “He kissed the living daylights out of me—I didn't even get to tell the guy. And he practically shut me up to tell me we’re having coffee together at lunch.”

  The sheer sound of Darren’s laughter cut through the office. “What? Oh my goodness! That's hilarious!” Darren cackled, throwing his hands onto the desk.

  Claire frowned. “No, it’s not! Darren, how am I supposed to let him down now? He thinks I liked that—it’s all my fault!”

  Darren’s wipe of his tears was very theatrical. “Oh, Claire,” he cried, “this is just so good. Come on. You’ve practically sealed your wedding vows to the guy. Heck, you’ll have two little kids called Joey and Carys running around!”

  “Shut up! This isn’t funny, Darren,” she hissed. “I need some air.” She stood up.

  Claire picked up her bag and headed for the lifts when Graves suddenly intervened, snapping his fingers to draw her attention. She stopped, fearing he was catching her out on Darren’s parade over there or to discuss why she was leaving at this hour when she knew herself she hadn’t even started work.

  “Claire,” he exhaled, “I was looking for you. Could you do me a favour?”

  What a relief, she thought as she nodded in response. Another time she might have thought about strangling the man with the amount of work he toppled onto her. “Could you deliver this to the CEO personally? I haven’t got time to go up there, and my email has crashed. It’s just paperwork for Project 76. All you need to do is deliver this to his PA,” he explained, handing her the manila folder. “It shouldn’t be too much of a hassle.”

  Claire reluctantly took it. She would have done twenty thousand sit-ups just to get herself out of that sticky situation. She’d had enough of listening to Jason.

  Graves rushed off, holding his lanyard aggressively as he headed towards the men’s bathroom directly adjacent the two sets of lifts. She held onto the folder as she called for the lift, hoping it would hurry as she spotted Jason walking about, snaking in the maze of cubicles.

  ***

  ZACK

  Zack was signing a contract, renewing Benson’s partnership with manufacturers that supplied the company building materials for its contractors. Olivia popped her head around the door jamb at that moment.

  “Sir, I have Claire Winter here. She’s got some paperwork from the Sales and Marketing department. IT staff are working on the department manager’s email server,” she reported, the frames of her glasses a little further down her small nose.

  Zack clenched his stomach. “Just take them off her—”

  Olivia’s phone began to ring. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I need to take this,” she interjected, bringing the phone to her ear. “I’ll tell her to bring them in,” she added, disappearing from sight.

  What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t let her see him. He quickly sat down, turned his chair to face the huge standing windows, and prayed to God she wouldn’t recognise him. There was some scuttling of his feet as he attempted to get comfortable. Why he was bothering to play this anymore, he didn’t know. He’d proven to Kyle pretty much the project itself might as well be scrapped, and their relationship was dwindling.

  The door opened.

  “Erm, Mr. Benson, I deeply apologise. Mr. Graves would have sent these earlier, but his email server appears to be down. Instead, he’s offered paper copies of last month’s marketing costs,” she said politely.

  Zack didn’t utter a word.

  “W-Where would you like me to put them?” she asked, breaking that dead silence. She was probably already getting the image of a disagreeable man from how impolitely he had his chair turned away. The chair’s tall back covered the back of his head, so in reality, she was talking to the back of a chair rather than a man.

  He was shaking in his bones now. Zack shifted in the chair slightly, knocking something over, only becoming aware that it was a bottle of water that had flipped off the left-hand side of the desk.

  “I’ll get it for you,” she offered.

  Zack snapped. “No! Leave it. Just leave the work on the desk and go.” He held his breath, hoping his voice wouldn’t give him away. There was a pause or two before he finally heard her place the paperwork on the desk and bid goodbye as she exited the room. He exhaled, slouching in the chair as he undid his sleeves.

  ***

  CLAIRE

  Claire turned on her heel, feeling a little offended over the poor respect she’d received off the man. His tone was fiercely aggressive, like a lion unable to be tamed. Why couldn’t he face her? Was the man that vain he couldn’t speak face to face with his employee? Claire didn’t even want to spare a second thought as she closed the door behind her, passed his PA, who was speaking on the phone, and headed towards the lift. Well, he was a jerk, she thought as she entered the metal four-by-four shaft.

  She was on her floor in less than a couple of minutes after stopping at six different floors, shuffling aside to allow people in, but finally, she was able to scoot from the lift and settle back to her cubicle. It was barely ten o’clock, and there was still no sight of Zack. They were done with their presentation, so she didn’t have to worry about nagging him, but it still didn’t settle her nerves. Great, she sighed aloud. That’s all she needed. Claire was just hoping he’d show up by now. It didn’t exactly reflect good on him, not that she cared, she told herself. Maybe it would be easier if he just got dismissed.

  Claire opened up last month’s spreadsheet, preparing herself as she fought to find the energy to speak on the phone with the clients.

  “Hello, Benson’s Corporation—”

  It had been hectic, not that she expected anything less. There were times she wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, but she couldn’t. She was on the phone. She was a representative of the company. At twelve and still no sign of Zack, she logged off temporarily, readying herself for the next crisis. She remembered this morning’s disaster with Jason. A coffee date. It took effort as she sluggishly got up and pulled her handbag across her shoulder, and it took more effort to attempt a smile as she spotted Jason waiting for her at the lifts. Claire hoped she would regain her confidence this afternoon and set him straight, but from the way he walked up to her and pecked her right cheek, she was feeling more anxious about that possibility.

  “Let’s grab that coffee then,” he said, clasping his hands together, briefly rubbing his palms together before fisting them into his pockets. Claire bit on her tongue as she headed into the lift, shuffling to the side, thankful they weren’t the only ones in here.

  Jason had no intention of going to the canteen; he insisted they walk across the road towards the small coffee shop on the corner. Claire had always thought of Bees as expensive: sandwiches could cost up to three pounds, and their tea was an extra pound. But the more insistent she was, the more persistent he’d be, so they ended up at the coffee shop, sitting in a couple chairs in the back of the shop. The aroma was thick with churning coffee beans, highlighting Claire’s need for energy.

  So far, he was busy ordering their food, giving her
the time to sink back into the chair and relax whilst she could. It didn’t work. She felt as stiff as a pole. She looked around, wishing she could have been that person with the blue beanie typing on his laptop or that woman munching on her sandwich. Anything that meant she could get herself out of this situation.

  Jason soon returned, carrying a cardboard drinks tray in one hand, and the other was pinching the edges of the sandwich cartons. He plopped them down. “And heeere we go. One Americano, and a latte, no sugar, for the lady,” he said, then picking out a packet of crisps he’d stashed in his coat pockets and throwing them lightly onto the table.

  “So.” He sat down. “How was your morning?”

  “Erm, good. Just catching up with the log book for a client. You?” she replied, thanking him as he passed the latte.

  He smiled, staring straight at her. It was starting to make her feel self-conscious as he sat there saying nothing. Claire couldn’t say it. She went to open her mouth. “So, uh—”

  “You know,” he muttered, cutting her off, then licking his bottom lip, “I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, if I’m honest.”

  She cringed inside. Fuck, fuck. She had to come clean. There was no way she was gonna keep this up, and besides, what was there for her to prove? Zack wasn’t here for her to pretend she liked him, and what difference would it make knowing she had her tongue down Zack’s throat, anyway?

  “Jason—”

  “Before you say anything, I just want to say our dates have been amazing. I don’t want to rush you into anything, but when the time is right, I’d really like to give us a shot, you know?” he interjected, once again forcing her to close her mouth.

  Claire was getting fed up now.

  “Erm,” she began, “yeah, it’s too early at the moment.” She looked down to her cup, unaware she was scratching the sides off, causing the papery surface to disintegrate into tiny pieces. Why couldn’t she just say the truth? This wasn’t Claire. Claire was confident. She told people straight, and now she was slowly becoming smaller and smaller by the second.