A Risky Christmas

“Red!”

Her name cracked through the glass walls of the office like a whip. She flinched, almost spilling the tray of coffee she was carrying. Goodness, that was close.

“Coming, Mr. Alton!” she called back, tightening her grip before hurrying down the hall towards his office in her low heels.

The door to his office was half open. She knocked anyway, one soft tap. No answer. She pushed it open carefully.

And froze.

The sound hit her first: a breathy moan, the creak of leather against skin. Then came the sight; his body moving rhythmically between the legs of a woman bent over his desk. Her black hair curtained her face and her moans filled the room.

Red’s mind blanked. This wouldn't be the first time she's walked in on him…well…entertaining his ‘many flings’ and she should have gotten used to it by now but somehow, she was stunned.

Her shirtless boss had his back to her, shoulders flexed as he moved and the woman's moans filled the office shamelessly. He had both of her hands clipped behind her back with one hand, another wrapped around her neck.

Her throat went dry and her mouth hung open in shock.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” Red gasped, instantly retreating, but her hand hit the doorframe and sent the tray clattering to the ground, spilling the hot black coffee all over the white marble floors and the cup shattering into a million pieces.

The woman yelped, the man cursed.

“Jesus, Red! What the hell are you doing?” Mr. Alton’s voice, rough and irritated, snapped her out of the horror that glued her feet to the floor.

“I…the door was open, I thought ypu called me and.…”

“Get out!” he barked.

She did. The door slammed behind her, and she stood there, heart pounding so hard she felt it in her fingertips.

She glared at the door, brows furrowed. ‘Get a fucking hotel room then, you asshole!’ She muttered under her breath. He must really get a kick out of doing it in his office. Goodness, the things she's walked on this man doing in her five years of working with him?

Red shook her shoulders as though to shrug off all she saw. Well, that’s one way to start a Wednesday.

Could she blame him? Alton is one of the most sought after bachelors in the city. Of course he had different women ready to throw themselves at him with just so much as a glance sent their way.

It took twenty whole minutes before the door opened again. The woman, a renowned model, swept out with her head high and lipstick smudged. She didn’t meet Red’s eyes.

Then came Mr. Alton. Shirt unbuttoned and hair disheveled. His tattooed arm had its sleeves rolled up; his lean, broad chest in full display for her to see. He was tall, broad-shouldered, exuding the kind of confidence that made people pay attention whether they wanted to or not.

What about this man makes women melt to the ground anyway? Red had always wondered. Maybe because she was his assistant and she knew he was an arrogant, irritating annoying piece of….

“Still standing there? The floor’s a mess. Coffee stains don’t wipe themselves.”

‘Piece of shit. An arrogant piece of shit!’

Red swallowed her reply and forced a smile. “I'll get it cleaned up right away.”

He returned back into his office and she followed suit with the tray. She crouched to gather the broken pieces of the cup, the back of her neck burning.

“Is the Meason report ready?” His eyes snapped to hers.

“Yes. I forwarded it to your mail already.”

He straightened slowly, buttoning his shirt and smoothing his tie with deliberate care, like he was resetting the world itself to his standards.

“And the contract proposal with Frank?”

“I… I was just finalizing the last section. I wanted to make sure it was accurate..”

“‘About to’ means ‘not done.’” His tone dripped with disdain. “Remind me again, Red, why do I pay you such a huge salary?”

She bit the inside of her cheek, kept her eyes on the floor.

‘Because no one else would put up with you.’ She groaned internally.

Red clenched the tray hard as she stood on her feet after wiping the floors clean and picking up the broken glasses. She smiled, that small practiced smile she had perfected over the years.

“I’ll get to it right away.”

He grunted, already striding back into his office. “And get me a new cup of coffee. Extra shot. I’ve got calls at ten.”

“Yes, Mr. Alton.”

The door shut behind her. Red let out a shaky breath, just a few more hours. A few more hours and she will be far away from this man for the next four weeks. It sounded like heaven!

Five years ago, she’d thought working for Donovan Alton, the notorious “deal-maker of Dockford”, would be her big break. The pay was good, the employee benefits were amazing and it would be perfect for her resume.

She thought it was a gift from heaven, receiving the letter of employment from the Dockford Empire in the mail five years ago. Now, she wasn't so sure anymore.

Every day felt the same: walking on eggshells, drowning in paperwork, fetching coffee, and pretending not to notice when her boss treated the world like his personal chessboard.

She delivered his fresh cup of coffee ten minutes later. He didn’t even glance up from his computer when she set it down.

“You’ll need to stay late,” he said.

Late? Why?! She wanted to yell but she found herself pleading. “Sir, the holiday break starts tomorrow…”

He looked up. “And?”

“I just thought I could leave early. I’ve cleared my tasks for the month and…”

He can't do this! Not when she had plans with Darren this evening! She had been postponing all their dates for the past six months and she felt terrible. She had promised to make it up to him this time!

“That’s cute,” he cuts in flatly. “But clients don’t care about your holiday spirit. They care about numbers. I need that report from the Maxwell account finalized before tomorrow noon.”

“That’s not due till next year,” she murmured before she could stop herself.

He leaned back, eyes cold. “Are you telling me how to run my schedule?”

“No,” she said quickly. “Of course not, sir. I’ll handle it.”

“Good.” He sipped his coffee, grimacing. “Too much sugar.”

There's no sugar in there! None! Not a spoon, not half a spoon, none!

“Sir, there's no…”

He set the cup down sharply. “Do it again.”

For a moment, she stared at him, fingers trembling at her sides. Then she nodded, picked up the cup, and left. He must really get a kick out of punishing her.

Don’t lose it, Red. He’s not worth it.

Her full name was Scarlett Reyes, but almost everyone called her Red. Partly because of her crimson curls, partly because that’s what Mr. Alton decided she’d be called on her first day. She’d smiled then, naive, thinking it was charming that her new boss gave her a nickname.

Red chuckled, it wasn't cute, it was ownership.

By the time she finished re-making his coffee, printing his reports, replying to half his emails, and enduring three more snide remarks about her “slow pace,” it was nearly eight in the evening. The office had emptied hours ago, but Alton was still in his glass-walled office, phone pressed to his ear.

Red glanced at him through the glass wall that lined the sides of the huge door leading into his office, he wasn't watching her.

She swallowed, packed her bag quietly. She got out of her chair, bag flung across her shoulder, ready to sneak out of here. Fingers crossed, he doesn' t notice her leaving.

“Red.”

She froze halfway to the elevator. She was close to tears now, why won't he just release her?!

“Yes, Mr. Alton?”

“Don’t forget to send out the reminder for tomorrow’s meeting with Gilford.”

Her heart thudded. “The meeting you canceled this morning?”

“I uncancelled it.”

“Sir, tomorrow’s…”

“I know what tomorrow is,” he interrupted. “You’ll manage. You always do.”

He turned back to his screen, dismissing her without another word.

Red’s throat tightened. She wanted to scream. To tell him she wasn’t a machine. That she hadn’t had a proper day off in five bloody years. That she was drowning.

But she needed the money. Hell, she had too much debt to have an opinion! No job pays as good as this one, sadly. Her student loans still loomed like hungry shadows and the loan sharks her mother took a loan from would come banging on her door if she missed a payment.

Red threw her head back, fighting back her frustrations. She pictured her mother’s trembling hands, the smell of cheap gin oozing from her..

: Just one more loan, Red, just one more, and I’ll pay them back this time.

She’d believed her. Then the loan sharks came knocking, and Red had to clean up the mess. She was stuck paying up what her mother had owed now right after she got arrested for her addiction and sent to rehab. That was three years ago and Red has been cleaning up ever since.

So instead of screaming, she said softly, “Yes, Mr. Alton.”

She finally clocked out at 9:14 p.m.

The night air outside was freezing, the city glowing with Christmas lights and careless laughter. She tugged her coat tighter, her breath forming little ghosts in the air as relief washed over her.

Her apartment was a shoebox on the fifth floor of a building that probably should’ve been condemned a decade ago. But it was hers and she didn't need to pay so much for rent either. And tonight, even the flickering hallway lights of her apartment couldn’t dim the relief she felt stepping inside.

The moment the door shut behind her, she kicked off her heels, dropped her bag, and collapsed on the couch.

Finally! She will be going on a break tomorrow, far away from her boss's overbearing ass.

Her phone buzzed.

Darren: Miss you, babe. Can’t wait to see you tonight. Got something for you ;)

Her lips curved into a small, tired smile. Darren, her one slice of normalcy. They’d been dating for almost a year but barely a month ago, due to her busy schedule, they had a nasty break up a year back. Now, he wanted them to try things out again. He was funny, patient, and always reminded her what it felt like to be seen so of course she agreed. And tonight, they plan to work it all out.

She texted back:

: I can’t wait either. Today was hell. You better make it worth it.

A moment passed, then another buzz.

Darren: You know I will. Send me a preview?

She laughed softly, rolling her eyes. She still couldn't believe she was yet to have sex with Darren. Thanks to Alton who took all the free time she had for the past five years!

Even her relationship with Darren had come to be because she ran into him at the coffee shop, trying to buy Alton's morning coffee long before she learned how to make it right.

But there was something freeing about the idea. She was off tomorrow, officially. No Alton, no spreadsheets, no shouting. Just sleep, food, and Darren.

Maybe she deserved a little fun.

She went to her bedroom, switched on the lamp, and caught her reflection in the mirror. Red curls messy, makeup smudged, shirt wrinkled, hardly the seductive goddess she wanted to be. But she knew her angles.

She tugged off her blouse, tousled her hair, tilted her chin. One soft click.

The picture came out tasteful but teasing, enough to make him grin.

She smiled, selected Darren’s name, hit send.

Then tossed her phone onto the bed and poured herself a glass of cheap red wine. Next week, she'd have her bags packed, ready to head to Maysville, the small town she'd grown up in for Christmas. Her holiday plan was just perfect!

Her playlist hummed to life; jazzy, lazy Christmas tunes filling the air. For the first time all day, her shoulders relaxed. She even started humming along, thinking about what tomorrow morning would look like. Morning pancakes, bad movies, Darren’s laugh…

Her phone buzzed again.

She glanced over absently. The message preview froze her mid-sip.

Mr. Alton: Interesting choice of attire, Red.

Her glass nearly slipped from her hand. She stared at the screen, unblinking. The name glared up at her.

The picture she took….she didn’t send it to Darren..

Message sent to: Mr. Alton.

Her heart stopped.

“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no, no…”

She scrolled back, fingers shaking. There it was…. her photo. Sent. Seen.

“Oh God.” She muttered, hands trembling.

Her phone buzzed again. Another message.

Mr. Alton: I hope that was meant for me. Because if it wasn’t… we have a problem.

Her pulse roared in her ears. The room felt suddenly smaller, her walls pressing in.

What the hell has she done?!