The Boxing Champion CEO's Hidden Little Sister

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My sister is a hopeless little-sister fanatic.

My stomach's bad, so she has the company kitchen make my three meals a day just for me.

I lost a client once and cried my eyes raw, so she pulled me into her office and dabbed eye drops in herself.

My coworker Jeanette Dickerson walked in with some documents right as my sister was holding me, murmuring comfort in my ear.

The day after my sister flew overseas for a fight, Jeanette cornered me in the restroom:

"Bonnie Fox, you know everyone behind your back calls you the girl who slept her way up, right?"

That afternoon, my top-salesman boyfriend blocked me in the parking lot, disgust all over his face:

"You went and slept with a boss over one lousy client? Bonnie, can you not be so cheap?"

Jeanette trailed out after him, all pity as she counseled me:

"Bonnie, a woman needs some self-respect. Playing two men like this is going to ruin you."

Watching the two of them sing their little duet, I suddenly laughed.

My sister just cut her hair short and dressed a little androgynous.

They actually thought she was a man?

...

"Playing two men?"

I repeated it flatly, and couldn't hold back a laugh.

"What's wrong, Jeanette? You tried to climb into that boss's bed and he wasn't interested, so you dump it all on me to blow off steam?"

Jeanette flushed red with shame and fury, tears coming on cue:

"Bonnie, I'm doing this for your own good. How can you turn around and slander me?"

Michael Gilbert tucked her behind him, staring at me with a face full of disappointment:

"You're dating me and climbing into Ms. Fox's bed at the same time. If that's not playing two men, what is it?

"And you've got the nerve to twist it around and frame Jeanie. Bonnie Fox, have you got any shame left?"

A cold laugh rose in my chest.

My heels struck the floor, sharper and colder than my voice:

"Michael, I forgot to tell you. Starting now... no, starting ten minutes ago, I stopped wanting your leaky little boat."

I didn't bother with them. As I turned, I drew out my car key and pressed it.

The black Mercedes beside us flashed its lights twice.

The sound of it unlocking rang out across the empty parking lot.

Michael hadn't caught up yet. His face went a shade paler as he looked at the Mercedes:

"When... when did you buy a Mercedes?"

The envy in Jeanette's eyes nearly burned through, but her face put on that sweet, poisonous act as she needled me:

"Bonnie, you even sweet-talked Ms. Fox into buying you a Mercedes?"

Michael clenched his fists, contempt flooding his eyes:

"Bonnie Fox, someone like you thinks she's fit to break up with me? You're just filthy."

Filthy?

That word out of his mouth was like a knife driven into an old wound.

I thought back to last winter.

To win me over, he'd crouched by the elevators in the office building for two hours.

I came out at eleven after overtime, and there he was, the tip of his nose red from the cold, pulling a cup of warm bubble tea from inside his coat.

"Didn't want it to go cold," he'd said, grinning like a fool. "So I just kept it tucked in there."

Back then, the way he looked at me was like he was holding something breakable.

Now he looked at me like I was something filthy.

My throat went sour and tight, like I'd swallowed a bottle of acid.

Then, out of nowhere, Jeanette bowed toward me, tears splattering down onto the floor:

"I'm sorry, Bonnie, this is all my fault. I only wanted to talk you out of ruining your own life. I never meant to cause trouble between you and Michael."

She straightened, tugged at Michael's sleeve, and pouted like a wronged child:

"Michael, calm down, don't be so harsh with Bonnie. She's still young. It's normal to take a wrong turn now and then. As long as we're patient and guide her the right way, Bonnie's sure to turn back into that sweet, innocent coworker everyone used to adore."

She said it all so graciously, so properly, her thin shoulders trembling faintly.

As if, should I fail to rein myself back from the cliff's edge and kneel down to kowtow my thanks to her, I'd be the ungrateful one.

Sure enough, Michael's heart ached for her completely, holding and soothing her.

Just then, the elevator gave a ding.

Coworkers heading home came pouring out.

Thanks to that phrase, the girl who slept her way up, by now almost everyone in the company knew who I was.

"Ooh, Bonnie, your bed-climbing skills are something else, landing a Mercedes and all. Lend it to me for a spin."

The coworker who said it reached for my car key.

I twisted aside and shot him a cold, frowning glance.

Another coworker crossed his arms and looked me up and down like I was prey:

"Tsk, tsk. Looks so innocent. Who'd have guessed she's this slutty behind closed doors."

Someone else sniggered. "This is exactly my type. Miss Fox, name your price, why don't you? Let us boys show you a good time."

The grating laughter dug into my ears.

Someone whistled. Someone else just watched the show.

Michael stood outside the crowd without moving,

like he was watching a farce that had nothing to do with him, not even a flicker in his brow.

Completely blind to the triumph Jeanette couldn't hide in her eyes.

All at once the whole scene struck me as absurd.

One client worth a million. One Mercedes. That was all.

If I wanted, the top ten listed companies in Seaport City would drive their sports-car convoys to my door overnight, lining up with gifts, begging me to sign.

My sister was right.

Some people just love standing on their imagined high ground, playing moral games at another person's expense.