The Boss [LGBT]

Bonus Chapter #2

So I like to think about Em and Faye a lot, and recently I kept thinking about what if Em never worked for Faye? But instead they met in a different, much less professional way. So here is a little bonus chapter for you!

Emerson's Point of View

We were at The Hole. Roger, Eric, and I. Saturday night, late July. It was packed. I honestly couldn't even move through the crowd without touching someone. A lot of men were shirtless but I was way too scrawny to pull off being shirtless. I was just in a pair of teal blue shorts that were short for a guy and a little high-waisted. I was wearing a gray tank top, tucked into the shorts. I looked good, blues and greens and grays were always flattering on me. I was glistening in sweat, my summer tan glowing. I looked damn good, and apparently I wasn't the only one who thought so.

As I was leaning against the bar with my friends Roger and Eric (third wheel, I know), after we tore up the dance floor, a man with curly brown hair and glasses approached me with another, Latino man.

"Hi there," said glasses guy.

"Uh, hey," I replied. I was prepared to turn down a threesome. Not my cup of tea.

"I'm Michael, and this is Emilio."

"Hola," said Emilio, flashing a grin. "Would you and your two friends like to join us in the VIP room?"

"Oh fuck yeah," answered Roger, before I could say anything.

"Wait, what's in the VIP room?" I asked.

"Free but expensive alcohol, beautiful people, and anything that you could pretty much ask for," said Emilio.

"But why are you inviting us?" I asked.

"We're not inviting you. The one who owns the VIP room invited you. He would like to get to know you, and anyone who's anyone wants to get to know him," Michael said.

"Who is he?"

Emilio smirked. "You'll have to come in to find out."

"Come on Em, let's go," Eric said. "Once in a lifetime opportunity."

"I know, but like...it's kind of creepy that someone wants to invite me but isn't coming to me himself. Like, he won't put anything in my drink will he?"

"Em is it?" Michael asked. "Our friend, the one who owns the room, owns this whole place, and pretty much everything in this country."

"Bitch I don't care about that," I replied. I swore more after a couple of drinks.

"Em," Emilio said. "You won't get hurt. There are too many people in there for that to happen, okay? So come on. Take a risk."

"Yeah, ya little bitch," Michael the sass-master replied.

"Fine," I said. "Let's go."

The two guys, holding hands, led us to the back area where a tall body guard was blocking a gold door. We went inside and the room was large, had a dance floor in the middle, and lots of attractive, clearly-very-rich people. I lived in the tiniest studio apartment you could imagine, so I felt out of place immediately. Some of the people looked familiar, as if they were famous some how. Roger and Eric, both of whom have better bodies than I had, were shirtless and quickly went to the dance floor with the other shirtless men. I almost left, feeling alone, but then a very pretty woman came up to me at the bar.

"Hi there, you look lonely," she said.

"Yeah, I'm just third wheeling it tonight. Not too sure why I was invited in here," I said.

"That's fine, alright? I'm Carla."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Emerson. So, this is primarily a gay bar, right? Why are you here? Like, no offense, you know."