By a Thread: A Grumpy Boss Romantic Comedy

Gola: Girl, why am I Dominic Russo’s new acting assistant? Did you spell something out in his breakfast burrito?

Ruth: The entire office is whispering right now! Most popular rumors: Ally punched Dominic in the face. Dominic told his mother that it was him or you, she chose you, and now he’s packing.

Gola: Can confirm that Boss Man is NOT packing. Repeat. Not packing. Also, he knows my name.

Ruth: Video footage from the admin pool shows Malina sharpening her claws in anticipation of a new hunt.

Gola: I’m concerned. There hasn’t been an Ally sighting on this floor since she left Dalessandra’s office.

Ruth: You don’t think she’s dead in a ditch somewhere, do you? Did Malina finally snap?

Gola: ALLY, WHERE ARE YOU? DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE?

Ruth: I’ll check the stairwells.

Gola: I’ll check my old stomping grounds… AKA the 42nd floor.

Ruth: Ally sighting report! Sources confirm she just took a desk in the graphics department!

Gola: Is she happy? Crying? Does she look like she’s being held against her will?

Ruth: Stand by for confirmation…

Ally: You guys! I lost my phone in my meager box of possessions that I’ve packed and unpacked four times since I started here. Everything is fine. I’ve been reassigned because…*going through a tunnel*

Gola: ?

Ruth: Don’t you do the fade away thing on us! We will hunt you down in Graphics and make you spill everything!

Ally: Hehe. I was just messing with you. Ladies, I’d like you two to be the first to know that Dominic Russo and I are…

Gola: Going to jail?

Ruth: Being fired for embezzlement?

Gola: Donating your paychecks to a worthy cause?

Ruth: Moving to Kentucky to start a bourbon distillery?

Ally: Dating.

Ally: OMG! Ruth, was that you screaming?

Ruth: Oops. You heard that? I got your text in the stairwell. It was more of a squeal.

Gola: Dominic just came out and asked me if I was okay because I choked on my green juice when I read your text. He almost tried to clear my airway. Then he told me I should probably start calling him Dominic.

Ruth: Now we really need to go for drinks tonight.

Gola: Drinks after dance? Count me in.

Dominic: I take it you told your girls?

Ally: I wanted to give Gola and Ruth a head’s up. Why?

Dominic: I nearly had to give Gola the Heimlich maneuver.

Ally: Did you by chance also hear a terrifying shriek in the stairwell? That was Ruth.

Dominic: Dominic and Ally, nearly killing friends with good news since today.

Harry: Been too long. Drinks. Tonight.

Dominic: Not sure. Got a lot going on.

Harry: I have two girls under four who just got into Mommy’s $200 lipstick and used it to draw on our fancy bed linens. I am the one with a lot going on.

Dominic: How fancy?

Harry: Something about organic silkworms and monks.

Dominic: Ouch.

Harry: So drinks. You’re coming.

Dominic: Maybe. What time? And can I bring someone?

Harry: If this someone identifies as female and your primary goal is to get/keep her in bed, I’ll bring Del. She can make sure this isn’t another Elena.

Dominic: Joke’s on you, loser. Del’s already met her.

Harry: Name?

Dominic: Ally.

Harry: Hold please.

Harry: Del says and I quote “I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. I KNEW HE WAS AFTER HER. Your wife is the smartest woman in the world. Suck it.”

Dominic: You two are what the annoying kids call #relationshipgoals.

Harry: Please tell me this woman isn’t under the age of 30 and that’s why you’re dusting off your pound signs. Because if I’m bringing my wife out and getting her too drunk to notice our murder duvet I don’t want to have to listen to her complain about grown men who insist on dating women young enough to be their daughters.

Dominic: She’s 39. That would have made me five years old when she was born.

Harry: Standing ovation gif. Wiping tears of gratitude gif.

Dominic: You know there are actual ways to send gifs instead of just explaining them.

Harry: Leave me alone. I’m old, and my kids are still too young to show me how to install a gif keyboard on my phone.

Dominic sent his standby middle finger selfie.

Harry: That’s the spirit.

To: Label NY Headquarters Staff

From: Dominic Russo

Subject: HR Policy 135 Sections B-D

Ally Morales and I have entered into a romantic relationship. To avoid any potential workplace favoritism or friction, Ms. Morales has been transferred to the graphics department. No questions or opinions will be entertained.

Sincerely,

Dominic Russo, Creative Director

Ally: Nice subject line, boss. Only one of my new coworkers opened the email so far. She spun around in her chair so fast, she knocked over an entire bowl of ramen.

Dominic: Good god. Not another poor person.

Ally: Not poor people ramen. Fancy ramen. It’s a whole thing now.

Dominic: Adding this to my list of things I wish I didn’t know.

Ally: You’re crotchety-ness is adorable.

Dominic: Let’s come back to my crotch, which is recovering nicely from its overuse. But first, can you go for drinks tonight after your dance class?

Ally: Yes. But only if you don’t mind going with Ruth and Gola. Uh-oh. Hang on. More spinning. And now some loud whispering. Did your email insinuate that I was deaf?

Dominic: My email insinuated that everyone should mind their own damn business and leave us the hell alone. I suppose your friends are fine if you don’t mind Harry and Delaney joining us.

Ally: Look at us doing the boyfriend-girlfriend thing. What’s next? Potluck suppers and coed baby showers?

Dominic: I am going to vehemently hope not. Oh, whatever you do don’t mention lipstick or bed linens to Delaney.

Ally: I don’t even want the context. This will be more fun.

Dominic: Let’s go out to lunch. I want to touch you without a few hundred people watching.

Ally: Count me in. They’re all staring at me and eating popcorn.

Dominic: Want me to come down there and give them something to stare at?

Ally: The part of me that saw you naked for twelve straight hours wants to say yes. But maybe we should at least give the HR guidelines a try for a full two hours before we ruin everything?

Dominic: Setting my timer for two hours and one minute.

Ally

I ducked down to the cafeteria for coffee and to get a break from the stares of my new coworkers.

I was just browsing the spectacular pyramid of pastries that I was absolutely not going to buy when a snide presence threw its evil shadow over me.

“Well, if it isn’t Dominic’s new toy,” Malina said snidely.

She was dressed in an ice blue pantsuit with a V neck that went almost to her belly button.

“Lovely as always to see you, Malina.” I sighed.

“How did you do it?”

“How did I do what?” I asked wearily. I should have stayed upstairs. At least the graphics department was too afraid to ask me any direct questions.

“How did you convince Dominic Russo to put his job on the line for you?” The emphasis made it clear that Malina didn’t think I was worth putting anything on the line.

“That’s personal. And this is work. I’m not discussing my personal relationship with you. Also, we’re not friends. At this point, I’d rather befriend Missie’s tarantula than you.” Copywriter Missie had a pet tarantula that she’d named Hercules.

“You think you have what it takes to keep a man like Dominic Russo?”

I actually had no idea what it would take and whether or not I had it.

“Did you ever have it checked?” I asked.

“What checked?”

“The thing that crawled up your skinny ass and died.”

“The weak never understand,” she scoffed.

“The weak?” I laughed. Seriously, someone had seen Mean Girls one too many times.

She looked me up and down. “The weak. The pathetic. The ones who show up where they don’t belong. You don’t belong on Christian James’s arm any more than you belong in Dominic Russo’s bed.”

“Who are you talking to, Mal? Me or you?” I shot back.

She bared her teeth at me. I realized the woman before me had years of practice in being a domineering bully. I shuddered when I thought of High School Prom Queen Malina.

“You think you’re so special,” she hissed.

“We’re all special,” I said, exasperated. “That’s the point. Me being special doesn’t make you less special. You being a douche to all of humanity factors in, though.”

“Fuck you, Ally.”

“No. Fuck you, Malina. We’re not in some Hunger Games competition for male attention,” I spat out. “Don’t you think you’re worth more than being some rich dick’s trophy lay?” I mean, at this point, I wasn’t sure she was. There didn’t seem to be a human being under all those layers of contouring and fillers.

“Now who are you trying to convince?” she shot back. “You follow Dominic around like a cat in heat.”

Ouch. That one hurt.

“You need to stop acting like men are some precious commodity and go find your soul somewhere. Because you are a truly horrible person, and right now, I don’t know if there is anyone on this entire island who would be sad if you got hit by a bus tonight.”

“Are you threatening me?” Her eyes narrowed to slits.

I rolled my eyes. “No. You idiot. I’m not threatening to steal a city bus and run you over with it. I’m trying to warn you. You’re young and smart and beautiful, and you are wasting it all on being a raging asshole. Do you really want to be on the receiving end of an alimony check from someone like Paul Russo? A man who used you and saw you as nothing more than an accessory? Or do you want to live and love and find some scrap of happiness or whatever your vampire equivalent is?”

I didn’t have the energy to dodge the slap. Plus I’d just caught a glimpse of a cheese danish that was calling my name and kind of missed the diva-worthy wind-up. The shithead caught me on my pre-existing bruises.

“That’s the only shot you get at me or anyone else I care about, Malina. So take your flat ass and your bony elbows home and think long and hard about what you want in this life,” I hissed.

She looked like she was thinking about hitting me again, and I looked for a nearby chair to hit her in the face with if necessary. But then the beautiful, soulless blonde whirled away from me and stormed toward the lobby.

I felt sorry for her. I mean, I totally hated her guts also. But somehow, me dating Dominic Russo had cracked this woman’s fragile sense of purpose. It wasn’t love she had for him. It was designs of a grander life. And, in her twisted, malnourished mind, I’d taken that opportunity away from her.

“Damn, girl. That looked like it hurt,” the cashier called to me. “You want a free ice cream?”

“I really do.”

“Take your pick, honey. That one is a rattlesnake.”

“How do you feel about being my witness if she tries to sue me or get me fired?”

“Happy to.” The woman nodded. “Take two ice creams,” she insisted. “You can put one on your face.”