Dose 𝓢even

Dose Seven Observations:
Subject is bent on pushing further boundaries.

⨳ ⨳ ⨳

Another day, another short skirt.

That was my motto at least.

The shorter the better, and this one was definitely the shortest I had gone.

The pinstripe material barely covered my ass, but it would be worth it if I could keep getting sent home.

The plan came to me in my sleep.

Dress inappropriately.

Get sent home.

Do some freelancing work.

Hang with Jynx.

And then do it all again the next day.

Even my blazer left a little sliver of my tanned stomach exposed, and my cleavage was on full display.

It was perfect.

I decided to wear my hair down in silky waves since I washed it last night and did a blowout.

Since my hair was basically done for me the night before, I only had my makeup to handle, which I did a little extra of.

It was more of a smoky look.

And instead of mascara—

I did lash clusters.

This was pure gold.

My look, this mini skirt, and my stilettos.

I would easily get sent home today.

“I won’t be gone long, Jynxie,” I murmured, noticing her sulking over in her bed.

Jynx just turned on her side, looking away from me as she sprawled out.

It was basically her way of telling me to fuck off.

I rolled my eyes in response, but was quickly distracted by the toaster strudel that popped up from my shiny new toaster.

I quickly grabbed the frosting packet that I had already opened, squeezing it out onto the warm toaster strudel.

Once I had it smeared somewhat evenly, I threw the packet away and grabbed a few napkins.

Just like yesterday, my breakfast would have to come on the go with me.

I wasn’t technically late.

But one stoplight would change that fate.

And I know Zion is already going to give me one of his looks when I get there because of my outfit.

He’s basically just accepted this fate, even though I told him going shirtless or something would help both of our odds.

But he doesn’t want to damage his reputation.

He had made a good point.

But I need to get out of this job, and there are going to be repercussions that come with that.

It’s worth it to me in the end.

I let out an annoyed huff when a text notification flashed on my Apple CarPlay.

It was from Zion—

Headed up early. Can’t be late after yesterday.

It made me roll my eyes, hating that Monroe got to him.

Now I’ll have to walk up all by myself.

At least no one ever really pays attention to me in that busy lobby.

Just like the last two days, everyone was focused on their own lives and where they needed to go next.

It was only awkward when I stepped onto the slightly full elevator with a bunch of properly dressed people.

They all subtly eyed me, and I could feel this weight pressing on my chest.

From all eight people standing in here with me.

I tried not to let it bother me.

I just kept telling myself they would forget this within an hour.

They have better things to do than think about me.

Or I just made their morning by even allowing them to glance at me.

Still, it felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I had to resist the urge not to tug my skirt down.

And that toaster strudel I just ate felt like it was about to come back up.

As soon as those shiny doors shut and the last person stepped off on their floor—

I let out deep breaths, finally allowing myself to breathe properly again.

But I only had five floors to get my shit together.

Then all eyes would be back on me again.

And Kara would say a few rude remarks that I need to be prepared to counter.

It feels like I’ve been lacking recently on my comebacks.

I need to do better.

I silence people.

Not the other way around.

I forced my shoulders back as soon as the shiny doors dinged open.

I look great.

And I feel really great.

Despite the ache buried in my stomach.

I really want to go home.

A long exhale fell from my lips, noticing the office doors shut.

Specifically, Briggszilla’s.

I mean, the sooner she sees me, the better, obviously.

But I just need a minute after that elevator moment.

It’s totally different when Zion’s not with me.

I glanced over the moment I made it to the tech division.

No one glanced up from their computers.

Thank god.

It made me relax internally, walking past the different cubicles toward mine.

Zion looked up immediately.

So did Grayson.

I rolled my eyes the moment Grayson let out a low whistle.

“Briggs is definitely going to dress code you,” he said, eyeing my outfit skeptically. “I think I’m supposed to dress code you?”

I chuckled softly at the question aimed at himself.

I liked that he could relate to us and still be our manager.

I wish we all worked for some other company so I could keep him as a manager.

“What is this?” I asked, eyeing the Aritzia shopping bag on my desk.

It was really fucking big—it practically took up my whole desk.

Grayson shrugged. “It was already there when I got in.”

Zion immediately raised his hands in defense when I glanced at him, “Don’t look at me.”

I furrowed my brows as I looked down at the bag again.

There were numerous things folded inside, nearly packed to the brim.

It made my face grow warm, undoubtedly assuming one person was responsible for this.

Especially when I reached inside—

And pulled out a pair of dress pants.

I fucking hate her.

I genuinely hate her.

This is her way of getting me back.

It’s her way of taking away any possible excuse not to cover up.

Now I have a bag full of clothes.

It was so calculated, and really fucking petty.

But I can be pettier.

“Libs,” Zion whispered when I stepped back from my desk, grabbing the bag.

“I’ll be right back,” I mumbled, sparking Grayson’s curiosity as well.

This time, everyone did look at me, especially with the huge fucking Aritzia bag nearly weighing down each step I took.

I walked faster, even if it made my already short skirt ride up.

I didn’t care.

If anything, I welcomed it.

My ears were hot.

I could feel my heart thudding in my chest.

And this fucking bag was straining my arm.

But still, I walked.

I walked really fucking fast, approaching Sienna at her desk, where Briggzilla was already standing, discussing something with her.

For once, Kara was in dress pants rather than her usual prudish skirt.

And she had on this turtleneck sweater that looked itchy, keeping her dark hair tied up in some kind of twist bun.

Her face gets on my nerves.

“I’m going to speak to Dr. Leclair now,” I said as soon as their attention shifted to me.

Kara stepped out in front of me before I could fully pass.

Bad decision.

Especially right now.

“You report to me, Ms. Fierro—then I report to Dr. Leclair,” Kara said, eyeing the heavy Aritzia bag indenting my arm.

“This isn’t a report,” I said, forcing a fake smile. “This is a conversation that I’ll be having whether you willingly let me through or not.”

“First, the dress code, now you’re making threats. You have a very…” Kara trailed off in fake thought. “Colorful personality, Ms. Fierro.”

“Oh, very colorful,” I murmured, my smile tightening as I glanced over to Sienna. “I’m sure Sienna can tell you just how colorful.”

Sienna immediately glanced away from us both. “I uh have to handle this calendar.”

“Smart decision. Ms. Fierro will be going home for the day,” Kara had the nerve to say, not moving an inch from those white double doors.

“Oh, I would love to go home and get far away from you,” I murmured with fake enthusiasm, “Just after I have a word with Dr. Leclair.”   

Kara stepped to the side just as I did. “You’re dismissed, Ms. Fierro.”

I smiled nearly psychotically.

Because I’m genuinely about to put my hands on this woman.

“Let me give you something to really dism—”

“Ms. Fierro.”

I glanced past Kara as soon as I heard the echo of her soft voice.

She stood by the open door in a black collared shirt and matching dress pants that emphasized her long legs, her stilettos glistening under the fluorescent lights.

Her hair was down in waves, her bangs framing her face, covered in light makeup.

“Our apologies, Dr. Leclair, we didn’t intend to disturb you,” Kara immediately said, turning around to face Monroe.

“I don’t know why she’s apologizing on my behalf,” I mumbled, stepping past Kara. “I fully intended to disturb you.”

Monroe’s blue eyes didn’t waver from me, staring at me without a trace of an expression.  

Meanwhile, I could feel Briggszilla nearly glaring daggers at me.

And then there was Sienna, fully soaking it all in.

It was awkward, and the silence was fucking heavy.

But then—

Monroe stepped to the side, opening the door wider.

“Five minutes,” was all she said.

“I only need two,” I purposely clarified, walking past Kara with a wide smile just to piss her off. “It was lovely chatting with you, Kara.”

She didn’t say anything in response, which made my smile grow wider as I walked past the door Monroe was holding open.

I could hear her inhale.

It was intentional.

Way too fucking intentional.

It made my ears burn worse, trying not to think back to so many months ago.

When she would smell me.

I walked to the farthest edge of the office, distancing myself from her as I unconsciously glanced around.

 The floor-to-ceiling windows let in the gloomy Seattle sky, shedding light on the precisely cleaned office.

Her shiny white desk was off to the right with nothing on it but her computer and keyboard.

I knew everything else was stored away in a specific drawer, in a specific way.

There was her office chair and two chairs on the other side of her desk, probably for whenever Briggszilla or that one red-headed lady would come in for meetings.

There was also a full conference table to the left.

It’s just like Monroe to have anything but a comfortable couch to lounge on.

She’s purely here for work.

Nothing less.

The conference table was long, a white gloss reflecting under every shred of light.

Then there were the file cabinets.

A lot of them.

More than I had probably seen before.

They spanned one wall and met at the corner to span the wall next to it.

“Five minutes,” her soft voice echoed, snapping me away from my thoughts.

I turned to face her—and harshly dropped the bag from my arm.

“Just wanted to give this back,” I mumbled, meeting her blue eyes already pinned on me. “I don’t need anything from you.”

Monroe’s stare shifted down.

Not to the bag—to my outfit instead.

“It’s very apparent that you do,” Monroe said, her eyes openly tracing my exposed legs.

Then she looked away from me entirely.

“It seems you don’t have proper clothing for my workplace,” she added, suddenly slipping her hands into the pockets of her dress pants.

It made my eyes shift down to her arms, noticing the subtle flex of her biceps.

They looked… more muscular.

Or maybe it’s that collared shirt she’s wearing, how the short sleeves outline her arms.

Or she just works out more.

It doesn’t matter—it’s not my business.

“I have proper clothing,” I pointed out, trying not to stare at her arms like a fucking weirdo. “I’m just choosing not to wear it.”

“Not anymore,” Monroe said, her blue eyes shifting back to me again. “You have plenty of suitable options now. This won’t be a further issue.”

I forced a fake smile. “I disagree,” I murmured, kicking the bag away from me. “And I’m not taking anything you bought me.”

“Levane bought it,” Monroe countered calmly, her stare not wavering from mine. “You’re taking it.”

I clenched my jaw at her words.

Her choice of words, specifically.

“Does Levane buy everyone new expensive clothes, Dr. Leclair?” I purposely asked, quickly shifting away from my thoughts.

“I’ll dock it from your pay,” she determined, walking over to her desk. “Is that all, Ms. Fierro?”

“Yep,” I said blankly. “I’ll just leave this here,” I purposely added, walking around the bag.

“Liberty.”

I stopped walking whether I liked it or not, especially with the rigid tone she had taken.

It was like my body was fucking trained to, and it irritated me.

Every muscle in my body tightened at my name—my first name, that fell from her lips.

“Pick the bag up, leave my office, and go change,” Monroe calmly spoke again. “I won’t repeat myself again.”

I didn’t say anything.

I figured my lack of response might irritate her as much as she had irritated me.

So instead, I continued walking, heading toward the double doors.

 “I’m no longer sending you home. You want to be fired, I’ll fire you,” Monroe emphasized, making me halt suddenly.

I turned around, eyeing her standing by the long desk, just feet away from me.

“Fire me then,” I said, wanting nothing more than to hear her say the words.

“I have no issue doing so,” she said, tilting her head enough to emphasize her sharp jawline. “He’ll sue you.”

“And I’m sure you’ll let him,” I mumbled.

Monroe hummed, suddenly glancing down when her soft lips twitched up.

“I see I’m the villain here regardless of the circumstances,” she said softly, like it couldn’t possibly bother her.

She seemed more amused if anything.

“Glad you have decent fucking observation skills,” I said, causing her stare to drift back up.

I knew it was the cuss word.

I hated that I even knew.

“It’s your fault that I’m even involved with your insane family,” I said, stepping forward.

“I’m aware,” was all she said, her voice nearly melting into the air.

“And I hate them, genuinely, from the bottom of my fucking heart. They are the worst people I’ve ever met,” I clarified, taking another step forward.

A few steps forward, actually.

“Two-way street, Liberty,” she calmly said, glancing down at my heels when I took a few more steps toward her.

“It’s not a two-way street when I group you in with them,” I pointed out, not once glancing away from her. “I hate you too. More than I could possibly hate them.”

“I know,” was all she said, but there wasn’t a single reaction on her face.

I’ve always hated how calm she can be.

How I can never affect her the way I want to.

“There’s a thin line between love and hate,” I purposely emphasized, stopping just inches away from her. “And I hate you.”

Monroe hummed, the sound soft in her chest. “Go put the clothes on, Liberty.”

“No,” I didn’t hesitate to say, not once glancing away from her precise stare.

Still, there was nothing.

No expression on her face—no reaction.

“He won’t just sue,” Monroe said as she took a step forward, leaving little space between us. I could smell her familiar floral perfume. “He’ll go after everyone and everything you care about until you agree to play into his hand. As the usual villain in your story, I’m handling it. All that I ask you to do, Liberty, is dress properly, keep your head down, and report to my chief of staff. It’s not difficult.”

I unconsciously remained silent, trying to think of something to counter her words in a way that would award me the win here.

But I had nothing.

“I know you have no issues with behaving under certain circumstances. Now go change,” Monroe said, taking a full step back from me.  

“You know nothing about me,” was all I could get out, focusing on the irrelevant part of the point she made, but I swear it was all I had. “It’s been months, and I’m not her anymore.”

Monroe nodded, entirely unbothered by my words.

“I know your size,” she softly murmured, her stare not wavering from mine, “I know you despise that muddy brown color and quarter sleeves.”

I rolled my eyes, taking a step back from her. “I actually went down a size,” I quickly lied. “And quarter sleeves are making a comeback.”

I wasn’t actually sure if they were, but I needed to have some kind of last word here.  

“Right,” was all Monroe said, not giving in to my lies. “I expect yesterday’s work to be completed with today’s.”

“Good, it’s healthy to have expectations, Dr. Leclair,” I sarcastically murmured, turning on my heel to walk out of her office.

“The bag, Liberty,” I heard her say, making my eyes dart to the Aritzia bag. “Go change,” she repeated for the hundredth time.

I only continued walking toward the door, refusing to give in to her demands.

It was the last thing I wanted to fucking do but—

“Or you’re fired,” her soft voice echoed. “That’s the last time I’ll repeat myself.”

I hesitated whether I liked it or not.

Not because I cared about getting sued.

Or even about this stupid fucking job.

This was about everyone and everything I cared about—something that’s annoyingly echoed in my head since Monroe said it.

“Fine,” I mumbled, suddenly walking over to the stupid Aritzia bag.

She wants me to change?

I’ll fucking change.

“Liberty—”

She cut herself short as soon as I tugged my skirt down, revealing my smooth black thong.

It was the same coverage as a swimsuit that I would wear in front of the general public.

And besides—

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” I casually determined, bending down to rummage through the bag for something.

“It’s inappropriate,” Monroe said.

“Still, nothing you haven’t seen before,” I murmured, my lips twitching up into an amused smirk at the subtle tightness in her tone.

Even as I focused on picking a pair of dress pants, I couldn’t miss the controlled exhale that echoed from her lips.

I glanced over my shoulder, noticing Monroe faced away from me entirely.

It made my smirk grow, feeling like I had won something in this conversation.

And these dress pants were… kind of cute, but I wouldn’t dare say that aloud.

They hugged my hips just right, and I could breathe normally with them buttoned up.

And they were low-rise, my favorite.

“Do you mind?” I suddenly asked, walking barefoot toward her with the black blouse halfway on.

I couldn’t figure out how to tie it in place.  

“I thoroughly mind,” Monroe said, briefly glancing over her shoulder at me.

Her stare met mine with precision, not once glancing down at my body.  

 I shrugged. “I’ll just wear it like this then,” I determined, not caring if my black bra showed.

“Wrap it tighter around your stomach and tie it at the back,” Monroe said, dragging her words out as if I were incoherent or something.

I rolled my eyes in response, attempting to retie the blouse as I walked over toward my heels and discarded clothes.

“Oh,” I murmured as soon as I secured the knot at my mid-back.

The blouse had a V-cut, one that didn’t show any sort of cleavage when it was tied properly.

All I had left to do was slide my stilettos back on and shove my discarded clothes down in the Aritzia bag.

I could hear the precision of her sharp heels clicking against the floor, already walking toward the doors to see me out.

I let out a huff as I tugged the shopping bag back over my shoulder, walking toward the doors that Monroe stood by.

I forced a tight smile as soon as she tugged one of them open.

“Thanks for the five minutes, doc,” I sarcastically said, patting her shoulder as I walked out of her office past her.

It was subtle.

But I could feel her tense underneath my fleeting touch.

It made my stare briefly lock with hers one more time—then my attention shifted ahead.

Because lo and behold, Briggszilla was still by Sienna’s desk.

It made my tight smile grow into a smirk, noticing the dumbstruck expression on her face.

Even Sienna had furrowed brows, glancing between me and Monroe, who stood by her office door.

That’s when I remembered that I had changed.

In Monroe’s office.

“Ms. Briggs,” I heard Monroe say from behind me. “Pull yesterday’s intake packet and handoffs.”

Kara didn’t say a word.

She just stared at me for a moment.

Then, at my outfit, silently acknowledging the change I made.

“Ms. Briggs,” Monroe spoke again, causing Kara’s stare to shift past me. “Yesterday's intake packet and handoffs," she repeated.

“Right,” Kara murmured, blinking a few times.   

I glanced past her and Sienna, noticing the brunette woman immediately.

Her short hair was pinned back in a low bun, wearing a long black pleated skirt and a pink blouse.

“Liberty,” Eliza said, blinking a few times with a smile.

Then suddenly, she glanced past me and cleared her throat.

“I mean, Ms. Fierro,” Eliza corrected herself, glancing back to me as she stopped by her office door.

I pursed my lips into an awkward smile, especially when Eliza zoned in on the shopping bag on my arm.

She didn’t look that surprised about it, which made me wonder if she knew about the shopping thing prior to this moment.

“Hey, Eliza,” I said, my smile growing more natural. “Or Ms. Montao,” I purposely added, briefly glancing at the plaque by her office.

Eliza smiled wider, parting her lips to say something else—

“Liz,” I heard her soft voice echo, diverting Eliza’s attention past me.  

“I have to go,” Eliza determined, briefly squeezing my arm as she passed by me. “We’ll talk soon.”

I nodded once, feeling an odd relief that Eliza… well, was still Eliza.

A lot of us aren’t who we used to be.

It’s nice to see some people haven’t changed.

I let out a deep huff, nearly lugging the annoying shopping bag back to the tech division.

I’m surprised the strap on it hasn’t broken yet.

“Look who was tamed,” Grayson joked as soon as his blue eyes fell on me. “The gatekeeper got to you?”

I rolled my eyes, “Sure,” I decided to say, not even wanting to reiterate what just happened in Monroe’s office.

I unconsciously glanced over, noticing Zion’s stare burning into me.

I knew he knew something—or assumed it at the very least.

I decided to glance away from him, sitting down in my chair and sliding the large shopping bag under my desk.

I truly tried to ignore his stare on me, but I knew none of this would go away.

It would just carry on until after work.

“What, Zi?” I blankly asked, looking over to him beside me.

He shrugged, “Nothing,” he mumbled. “I’m just surprised you changed.”

I lazily raised my brows. “I know. Not my best moment.”

“Is there another bathroom at the end of the hallway?” he suddenly asked me, but I could tell by the way he lowered his voice that it was more of an accusation than anything.

I didn’t care enough about the situation to lie to him.

“Does it matter if there was?” I asked, focusing on logging into my computer.

“It does,” Zion didn’t hesitate to say. “You know it does.”

I sighed, not bothering to respond.

He seemed irritated at the possibility that I was with Monroe.

And maybe he’s right.

Maybe it does matter.

There shouldn’t be situations like this moving forward.

Otherwise, everything I worked for these past few months goes right down the drain.

I’ll just focus on work and stay the fuck away from her.

Simple.