Dear Grumpy Boss: Chapter 6

AFTER ONE WEEK AT Andes, my lunch dates with Rebecca and Simon had become an unspoken given. I’d slotted in with them easily. They were gossips but not malicious, which made them fun to be around.

My phone vibrated as we were finishing up. I checked, finding a text from Lani.

Patrick caught me as I was walking into the building this morning. He looks terrible. I laughed in his face then told him I had no idea who Elise was, never heard of her, and he should probably seek help. Did I do good?

Tears sprung to my eyes, and I quickly blinked them back. I didn’t even know what they were about. Obviously, I wasn’t over the way my relationship had ended. Did I care that Patrick looked terrible? A little. But the spiteful monster that apparently lived inside me enjoyed my brother and friends stonewalling him so completely.

I texted her back.

You did amazing, friend. Thank you for having my back, as always.

I pushed thoughts of Chicago aside as we rode the elevator back up to seven. Simon and I split off from Rebecca, leaving her at reception. Nearing my desk, I almost tripped over my feet at the sight of Weston Aldrich working at the long collaboration table nearby.

“Oh yeah, he likes to work on all the floors,” Simon murmured. “He’s a man of the people, you know?”

I snorted. Simon was sarcastic but not derisive. From what I’d gathered over the past week, Weston was generally liked, but more than that, he was well respected. I suspected Simon might have a tiny crush, but that was understandable.

“Really?” I whispered.

“I think that’s the vibe he’s going for. It keeps us on our toes, that’s for sure.”

Weston lifted his eyes from his screen, catching me staring. His lips curved at the corners, and he nodded. I barely managed to nod back, but he continued to watch me walk to my desk.

He was in my periphery when I sat down. My stomach plummeted. How was I going to do my work with him right there?

The next time I glanced his way, his attention was back to his computer.

I shifted the few papers on my work surface around and something yellow caught my eye. A Post-it had been stuck between two printouts. Brow pinching, I read the neatly printed words:

Miles.

This had to be from Miles.

His sense of humor obviously hadn’t matured since high school.

I tucked the Post-it in one of my drawers, ignoring the swirl of nausea in my stomach and knot of hurt in my chest. The four years Miles spent teasing and bullying me during school, I’d learned if I ignored him, he’d move on. For a while, at least. A reaction was exactly what he wanted, and he wouldn’t be getting that from me.

My guard was down when I arrived at my desk on Tuesday.

Stupid.

I should have known better when Miles was involved.

I tucked that one on top of the other one. Waves weren’t my thing, but I’d come from an office where making waves meant drowning under them. I could safely take these Post-its to HR here, surely, but then what? Miles was Weston’s brother. He wasn’t going to be fired, probably not even reprimanded. Not that I wanted him fired. I simply wanted him to forget I existed.

I sucked up my anger. There was nothing I could do today, and there was too much work to be done to spend time thinking about Miles Aldrich and his immature antics.

After lunch, I went to my first creative department meeting. Weston attended, but he didn’t lead. He sat on the side of the room, his tablet in his lap, seemingly taking notes as the heads of each team spoke.

Andes put out a quarterly catalog that was more like a magazine. In an age where most things had gone digital, the Andes catalog was something consumers regularly requested to have sent to them in the mail. Not only were the photographs beautiful, the short articles never failed to be interesting. I was guilty of being one of the hundreds of thousands of people who read it cover to cover.

When my editor, Salma, spoke about the topics of the articles planned for the next edition, Weston interrupted her with a wave of his hand.

“I’ll be visiting some of our factories in California in a few weeks. Let’s do a write-up of that. You choose the angle.” He scribbled on his tablet like now that he’d spoken, it was a done deal.

Salma’s brow dropped. “That’s a great idea, Weston. The thing is, it’s been decided for months we’re focusing on lifestyle.”

He cocked his head. “I understand. As I said, you choose the angle.”

He put a period at the end of his sentence that was so firm it was almost audible. Salma, a woman in her forties who carried an air of having her shit together, seemed flustered by Weston’s abrupt demand. He wasn’t cruel about it, but he wasn’t leaving this topic open for discussion.

Salma’s fingers worked the screen of her tablet up and down, up and down. “I don’t see how we can fit in a story about a factory—”

I cleared my throat, crossing my fingers my interruption would be appreciated. “What if we interview factory workers who wear Andes on their off days? The audience might be interested in how the people who make their coats and hiking gear use those products in their everyday life.”

Weston’s expression started out annoyed with Salma’s reticence, but as I spoke, he slowly slipped into a half smile. Salma wasn’t shooting death glares at me like Dick the dick would have been. She was nodding, glancing from Weston and back to me.

“Actually, that would be fresh.” She tapped her stylus on her chin. “Why don’t you take that, Elise?”

From across the room, Miles started a slow clap. He looked around, but no one joined him, which didn’t seem to affect him in any way.

“Nice job, Lisie.”

Weston gave his brother a sharp look. Miles grinned at him, unfazed, but at least he stopped clapping.

“You’ll travel with me to California,” Weston clipped at me. “Renata will send you the details.”

My lungs squeezed in my chest. When I spoke up, I hadn’t imagined I’d be given the assignment. I’d only just started here, and now I’d be traveling?

That was…

Better than I could have expected.

All the more reason to ignore the Post-its.

Except they weren’t so easy to ignore. Wednesday and Thursday were more of the same. Seemingly harmless facts about elephants scrawled on yellow Post-its.

Fifteen years ago, these little notes would have made me smile.

Now, they brought back really crappy memories.

I spilled everything to Simon and Rebecca at lunch on Friday.

“Can I tell you guys something?” I asked.

They stopped eating, their attention immediately rapt.

Simon swiveled his wrist. “Please do.”

I sucked in a breath. “It has to remain between us, though.”

Rebecca mimed zipping her lips. “As long as I can tell Sam, I’m a vault.”

That made me laugh a little. “Spousal privilege. I’ll accept that.”

Simon lifted his shoulders and held his hands out. “The only people I gossip with are you two. I’m not going to tell anyone. You can trust me, Lise.”

I wanted to be able to trust these two. My confidence had been shaken by Patrick and his buddies, who I had considered my friends as well, but I wouldn’t allow what they’d done to keep me from forming bonds with other people. Simon and Rebecca struck me as straightforward and no bullshit. They were my allies at Andes, and right now, I needed them.

“Miles Aldrich and I went to school together. We weren’t friends, but we were in the same grade, so I’ve known him forever. He was always just…there. I never paid attention to him. But then we got to high school and everything changed. He teased and taunted me and riled the other kids up to join in.”

Rebecca and Simon’s expressions had gone from interested to horrified.

“That little twerp,” Rebecca ground out. “He bullied you?”

I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know if I’d call it that. He started something and it grew like a wildfire.” Tucking my hair behind my ear, I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “When I was little, I was kind of obsessed with elephants. So much, Weston used to call me Ellie. I loved it back then because it was special between us, you know? But I guess he told Miles about it, and when he started calling me Ellie the Elephant in high school…well, it wasn’t so cute.”

Thick thighs and big butts hadn’t been in style back then—there’d been no chance of escaping school without being teased. Having it come from Weston’s brother while using his special name for me had been a unique kind of betrayal that had knocked me to my knees.

Simon’s expression turned thunderous. “What an idiot. As someone who was relentlessly bullied in school, I’m taking this really personally, Lise. I’d go homicidal if I had to work with any of those guys. I don’t know how you’re doing it.”

“I didn’t know he worked here when I accepted the job.”

Rebecca winced. “Yeah, I can see how that might have affected your decision.”

“I wouldn’t have taken it.” I rubbed my lips together. “I haven’t been thinking about him all these years, you know? And when I realized we’d be coworkers when we shared an elevator on Monday, I was prepared to suck it up. It’s been eight years since high school. I’ve matured and moved on. I was hoping he had too. But…”

Simon angled forward, his eyes narrowed into slits. “What did he do?”

I blew out a slow breath. I absolutely hated this. “All week, someone has been leaving Post-its with elephant facts on my desk. They’re anonymous, but it has to be Miles. It really couldn’t be anyone else.”

Rebecca and Simon exchanged angry looks with each other. Simon fisted his knife. Rebecca’s cute face was glowing red.

“That asshole. You should tell Weston,” Rebecca said.

Simon nodded. “Put that little shite on blast. No one deserves to be harassed at work—and that’s what that is.”

I cupped my forehead, looking up at them from under my lashes. “I don’t want him to be fired, I just want him to leave me alone. And if I don’t react, maybe he will. He eventually stopped in high school, so maybe…”

“I get that.” Rebecca reached across the table to squeeze my forearm. “The situation has all kinds of layers that make it complicated. The bottom line is: you should be safe and comfortable at work. If Miles isn’t capable of allowing you that, his stupid ass needs to get the boot.”

Simon nodded. “I’ll back you up, whatever you decide to do. If you want me to go with you to talk to HR, I’m there.”

“Me too,” chimed Rebecca.

Feeling ten times lighter, I grasped some of the optimism I’d started the week with. But the moment I arrived back at my desk and spotted the small yellow square stuck to the front of my drawer, all of it evaporated.

Done.

I was done.

This was not how professionals behaved.

I wasn’t going to tattle on Miles. We were going to have a long-overdue conversation.

Yanking open the drawer, I plucked out the other Post-its and strode to Miles’s desk, the stack clutched in my hand. When I approached, his brows lifted.

“Hey, Lisie.” His grin faltered at my expression. “What’s up?”

I waved the Post-its. “Can we speak in private, please?”

I’d let him get away with this behavior in school. Never once had I confronted him, fearing I’d only add fuel to his inexplicable fire. But I was an adult. Letting things like this slide wasn’t something I could do.

“Uh”—he pushed back from his desk, rising to his feet—“sure. There aren’t a lot of places that are private around here.”

I nodded toward the stairwell. “There will do. This won’t take long.”

“Oh. Okay.” He seemed perplexed, but he shouldn’t have been. He was being a deliberate asshole to me. He should have expected to be confronted.

When we were both on the stairwell landing, the door firmly shut behind us, I held up the stack of Post-its.

“This stops now or I’m going to HR.”

Any trace of humor slipped from Miles’s expression. He held his hands up, palms out. “Whoa, whoa. What’s going on?”

“Don’t, Miles. We both know what you’ve been doing. It’s insulting for you to play dumb.”

He scratched the side of his head. “I’m not playing dumb, Elise. In this case, I’m actually dumb. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I stared hard at him. “Ellie the Elephant.” Then I picked up his hand and slapped the notes on his palm.

He frowned, looking from me to the Post-its, reading the elephant facts one by one. When he finished, he handed them back to me.

“I can see why you would think these are from me, but they’re not.”

My fingers curled around the slips of paper. “I don’t believe you, Miles, but whether you admit it doesn’t matter. I’m asking you to stop so I don’t have to escalate this. This isn’t high school. I won’t put up with this treatment.”

He reached for me then seemed to think better of it at the last moment and dropped his hand.

“Elise, come on. I barely even remember the whole elephant thing from when we were kids. Do you honestly think I’m going to be looking up elephant facts to…what? Torment you? I’m happy you’re here. I have no reason to torment you.”

I blinked at him, gutted by his dismal recollection of some of the worst years of my life. He wasn’t exactly shrugging his shoulders, but it felt that way. “You don’t remember what you did to me?”

He cocked his head, studying my face. “Well, I’m not going to deny I was an idiot back then. I did anything for a laugh and probably hurt your feelings. For that, I’m sorry.”

Probably? This wasn’t the confrontation I’d dreamed about as a teen. But it was Miles. I should have predicted he wouldn’t drop down and beg for forgiveness.

“Miles, you come on. You did a lot more than hurt my feelings. You can at least acknowledge you spent four years with a very specific agenda. You wanted me as uncomfortable as possible. And you succeeded.”

His brow furrowed, and he cupped the back of his neck, seeming genuinely worried. “I told you I’m sorry. I can’t take it back. What else can I do?”

“Stop leaving notes on my desk!”

He threw his arms out. “I’m not! I swear on my dick, they’re not from me. You want to fingerprint me? Do a handwriting analysis? Game on, Lisie. I’m innocent.”

I sputtered. “You’re not innocent.”

His arms fell heavily to his sides. Contrition weighed down his features. “No, I was a bad guy to you a long time ago, and now I see I did more damage than I ever cared to acknowledge. Lisie, for that, I swear, from the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry, but I didn’t leave those notes.”

“Well…”

I was stumped. I believed he’d locked away the things he’d done to me to keep the weight of remorse away all these years.

So, I had a choice to make. I’d gotten my apology from Miles. It wasn’t the pretty package of soul-deep regret and pleas for forgiveness I’d wanted back then, but it was something. Probably as good as I’d get from Miles.

“Look, I know it’s really crappy to hear, but until you just brought it up, I had completely forgotten about the elephant thing. When I see you, I see my old classmate, Elise, who turned into a pretty woman I now work with. I have no reason or desire to hurt you. It’s easy for me to say I let all that stuff go a long time ago, but it’s true.”

There was no guile behind his pleading eyes. Miles wasn’t trying to pretty up our past or sell me lies about living with regret for years. He’d done something bad to me and moved on from it.

It hurt.

But it was believable.

My grudge against Miles Aldrich was so long held, it would be difficult to let it go. But maybe I could.

“Lisie.” Miles came for me, moving in slow motion so I could dodge him if I wanted to, but I didn’t move away. He wrapped me up in a hug, and after a moment, I hugged him back. “I’m really sorry I hurt you,” he murmured.

In my mind, I was stomping and yelling, demanding to know why he treated me that way, scratching and clawing so he would feel the same pain he’d inflicted on me.

But where would that get us?

Miles Aldrich was standing here, hugging me, earnestly apologizing, and I believed him to be sincere.

“I forgive you,” I whispered, and it was a relief to mean that.

He lifted his head and pulled back slightly. “Yeah?” His green eyes were alight with mischief. “For real? Did we just become best friends?”

With a breathy laugh, I shoved him away from me. “Don’t push it.”

“Fine, fine. One day, you and me, Lisie, we’re going to be besties.” He patted his chest. “I’ll earn it, though.”

He opened the stairwell door for me, allowing me to walk ahead of him, then stopped me by grabbing my wrist.

“Do you want me to find out who’s been leaving the notes?” he asked quietly.

“Um…” I glanced around, but no one was paying attention to us. No one except Weston. Standing beside the collaboration table on the other side of the room, he watched us through narrowed eyes. “No. I think I know who left them since you didn’t. I don’t know why but—”

He grimaced. “Westie, huh?”

I nodded. “It kind of has to be him.”

He rubbed his scruffy jaw with two fingers. “Westie wouldn’t do anything to hurt your feelings. I don’t know why the hell he’d be leaving you elephant facts, but I guarantee his intentions aren’t malicious.”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, suddenly wishing it was the end of the day. There were still hours to go. “Look, I have a lot to do—”

“Yeah. Me too. I’m glad we cleared the air, though.”

I tipped my chin. “I am too.”

Weston had taken a seat but was still watching as I strode back to my desk. Sitting down, I opened up my email, composing a new one.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Dear Mr. Aldrich,

Please refrain from leaving any more elephant facts on my desk from now on.

Sincerely,

Elise Levy