It was the day she planned to punish him. Leticia. She had decided to skip work, sending a quick message claiming she was sick, seizing the perfect opportunity to visit an amusement park—or something like that.
/Very sick. Will not be coming in today, sir./
He would probably assume it was because of the chaos he'd caused last night. She was happy to let him believe that. More importantly, she just didn't want to see him today. He stirred up an emotion she hated to feel while under her disguise—anger. Dexter was never supposed to be angry; he was a genuinely nice guy.
Today, she would enjoy her day as Leticia. Throwing on a simple outfit—a pink t-shirt, blue jeans, a black jumper, and sunglasses—she was ready to take on the world.
Just as she was about to step out, her phone rang.
"What's happening with your health? I need you here!" Justin's shout echoed through the line, causing her to pull the phone away and wince.
"I... am..." She forced a cough between words. "I have the flu, sir."
She was sure Justin rolled his eyes. "The flu, huh?"
This time she feigned a sneeze, forcing herself to inhale a non-existent sniff.
"I'll try to come in, sir."
"Fuck no! Stay put. But I'm deducting five days' pay from your salary." Beep—the call ended.
Leticia stared at the black screen, then laughed. "Such a jerk. Five days' pay? What about my sick leave? Is that a joke to him?"
She left the house, but instead of heading to the amusement park, she made a beeline for her favorite fast-food joint. Ordering a huge burger, fries, and a milkshake, she settled in for a guilty pleasure.
And then, someone unexpected strolled in, making her fry slip from her fingers back onto the plate.
"What the hell..." she mouthed in shock. It was Elaine, arms linked with a handsome man, both laughing like they were the happiest couple alive. They looked more in love than Leticia had ever seen anyone.
Thank goodness she was here as herself—Elaine wouldn't recognize her.
Wow, she thought. These people never stopped surprising her. But who was she to meddle?
"Oh hey, can we sit here?" Elaine's cheerful voice cut through her thoughts, like a different person entirely, disrupting Leticia's fragile peace.
She almost choked on her food, momentarily forgetting this woman had no clue who she really was.
"No." Leticia shook her head, forcing a polite smile.
Elaine and her companion plopped down with cheerful disregard, their rudeness making Leticia wish she could disappear.
For the love of God—she just said no. Didn't they understand English?
"Oh baby, we should fuck here one of these days..." the man joked, earning a grimace of disgust from Leticia. Did they have no sense of privacy?
Elaine playfully slapped his arm. "Stop it. We're not the only ones here. Forgive us," she said, then turned back to her companion.
Leticia, growing more uncomfortable, forced a smile, heart pounding as she kept her gaze low, hoping to avoid any flicker of recognition.
"What's your name?"
Whose name? Leticia thought, keeping her head bowed, desperate to avoid attention.
"Hello? I'm talking to you…" Elaine's voice pressed insistently, driving her eyes shut in annoyance.
"None of your business, madam."
The words slipped out smoothly, boldly—no one dared bully Leticia. She wasn't one to take crap.
"Oh, she's rude... What a rude little thing! Do you have any idea who I am? What I can do to you? You should be overjoyed just to be in my presence, talking to me."
Leticia's tongue stuck firmly in her cheek, forcing herself to stay silent. One sharp reply, and she might as well fling the milkshake in Elaine's face.
"Forgive me, Princess Diana, but I'll be leaving now."
The man at Elaine's side was fixated on Leticia, licking his lips as he watched her put Elaine in her place, a small, amused smirk tugging at his mouth. If these were the kinds of men Elaine ran with, she had serious problems.
By the time Leticia stepped out of the restaurant, exhaustion weighed down every bone. Elaine had sucked the last of her energy dry. But today was her one free day before fully returning as Dexter, and she planned to squeeze every ounce of fun from it. Tonight, she'd hit a female strip club—dressed as herself, as exotic as possible—maybe find a handsome stranger to take her home. It was time to lose her virginity.
It was still noon. The afternoon wasn't hot, but warm enough for her to shed her jumper and tie her hair back in a ponytail. For now, she'd walk home and wait for midnight.
As she passed down a narrow alley, a car parked on the adjacent street caught her eye—her boss's car. Her heart slammed in her chest. Instinctively, she ducked behind a trash bin, not because he was close enough to see, but because panic overtook her. She peered cautiously at the car, as if expecting something to happen.
And of course, something did.
Her boss—Justin—was tangled up with some random woman, his hand tangled possessively in her hair as he kissed her roughly, devouring her like she was his prize.
"No control," Leticia spat, fury bubbling beneath her skin. But she didn't walk away. Instead, she fed her anger, bent down to pick up a small stone, and with a mischievous grin, hurled it straight at the windshield. Then she took off, laughing at her childish defiance as she heard Justin slam the door and roar behind her.
"Who the fuck did that!?"
Her laughter bubbled up as she sprinted home. Served him right. He deserved a gang of kids throwing stones and eggs at him—and Leticia was happy to be one of them.
Once home, she decided to stir the pot a little more and sent a message to her boss.
/Someone just sent a picture of you kissing a lady in your car. I think you have a stalker, sir./
Her phone buzzed instantly. She laughed, nearly missing the incoming call.
"Hello, sir."
"Dexter! You were right—I'm being stalked! Could be a jealous ex… or a psychopath with a crush on me."
Leticia arched a brow, disgusted at his obvious assumption. Wow. Just how high did he think of himself? She rolled her eyes and bit her lip, swallowing a sarcastic retort.
"Sure, sir. I'll look into it."
"No need. Are you coming to work tomorrow?"
She frowned at her phone. Had he forgotten how he'd threatened to dock five days' pay for her "sick" day? In her mind, she'd already been granted five days off.
"Yes, sir. I feel much… better."
"Great. Because you're moving into my house."
"Sorry, what?"
"What do you mean, what? I have a stalker. You're to watch my back."
Holy crap. What had she just gotten herself into?
"No, no, sir. I can't do that. I have a sick mother at home," she lied smoothly—part truth, part lie.
"Dexter, find someone to take care of your mother. Do you want to lose your job? For heaven's sake, I have enemies. You should be worried about me."
Her face tightened so much she feared it might freeze that way forever.
"Sir, what you need is a bodyguard. Bodyguards… I'm not qualified for that."
She fought back tears and the urge to hurl her phone across a stranger.
"Then you'll learn to fight. I don't want anyone I don't know trailing me around. Don't worry—we'll take self-defense classes together."
"Wait, what? Excuse me...?"
Beep. The call ended abruptly.
"Oh crap... What kind of job is this?"
More than ever, she needed that strip club tonight—to clear her head before sanity slipped through her fingers completely.