Rejecting My Secretly Toxic Ex Boss

I was dead broke, which is how I ended up taking a job as a professional punching bag.

Before I agreed to show up, I texted the broker, my fingers hovering hesitantly over the screen: Is his temper really that bad?

His reply was grim: Its off the charts. Unhinged.

So, I showed up to the location armed with oversized sunglasses, a black face mask, and a baseball cap pulled low, fully prepared to get screamed at for cash.

Then I walked on set and saw the director. It was my gentle, kind-hearted, flawlessly perfect ex-boyfriend.

"That's him?" My voice betrayed a slight tremble.

The man standing next to me crossed his arms, following my gaze to the directors chair. "Yep."

Max shot me a sideways glance, his brow furrowing at my ridiculous getup. "Is all the spy gear really necessary?"

I gritted my teeth behind the mask. "Getting screamed at in public is humiliating."

Thank God I had the foresight to come fully disguised. No matter how high the hourly rate was, there was absolutely no way in hell I was taking a job where my ex-boyfriend got to hurl insults at me.

"Fair enough," Max sighed. "Im going to place you as his personal assistant. Just survive a month. Deal?"

A few yards away, the man slouched in his canvas chair, exuding an aura of bored hostility. In just the five minutes wed been standing there, three different crew members had approached him, only to scurry away with ashen, teary faces.

"He's relatively calm right now," Max whispered, trying to be helpful. "Hes tired from yelling."

I stared in disbelief. "Is he really that much of a monster?"

Max just chuckled darkly. "Follow me."

As we approached, that cold, piercing gaze finally shifted our way.

Carter Kensingtons jaw was locked. His lips pressed into a thin, cruel line as he stared down Max. "What is this, Max? Still holding a grudge against me, so you brought a burglar on set to steal my equipment?"

I froze. A burglar?

Sure, I was wearing a hat, sunglasses, and a mask, but a burglar? Really?!

"No, no, man," Max laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is your new PA."

I took a tentative step forward.

Carters eyes swept over me like a physical blow. "I cant even tell if this is a man, a woman, a human, or a ghost. And you want to make it my assistant? What is this, a halfway house?"

"..."

I swallowed hard and pitched my voice up, forcing a nasally, unnatural tone. "I'm a woman, for the record."

A muscle in Carters jaw twitched. Disgust instantly clouded his features. "Great. You brought me a mental patient. Take her and get out of my sight."

Max coughed into his fist, desperately trying to salvage the situation. "Look, Carter, I handpicked her. Shes great. Its just... shes having a horrific allergic reaction on her face right now. Its highly contagiousI mean, highly unsightly. So she has to keep it covered."

I nodded vigorously like a bobblehead.

Carter looked like he was one second away from snapping a clipboard in half. "Then she should be in a damn hospital. Does this look like an urgent care clinic to you?"

A dead silence fell over the immediate vicinity.

Even Max looked stumped. "Well..."

I lowered my head, keeping my voice small and pathetic. "I didn't ask to be allergic. Its a chronic condition. It just flares up."

To my surprise, those words made Carter pause.

His sharp, unforgiving gaze raked over me again, reassessing. But those beautiful, deep-set dark eyes were entirely devoid of emotion. He looked at me the way one might look at a rusted piece of machinery.

Behind my dark lenses, my eyelashes fluttered against my cheeks.

The truth was, during the three years we dated, Carter had always been my sanctuary. He was considerate, patient, and impossibly sweet. I had never, not once, seen this side of him.

Six months ago, when we broke up, he had looked at me with those same striking eyes. But back then, they were pooling with warmth and regret.

Im sorry we couldn't make it to the finish line, he had murmured, his voice like velvet.

He had pulled me into his chest, his large hand gently stroking my back. You have to walk your own path from here on out. I just want you to be happy, Josie.

Our breakup had been painfully mature, utterly dignified, and perfectly distant. Much like our three years together, where I always had the lingering suspicion that I was standing in the foyer of his heart, never allowed into the living room.

Looking at him now, I realized my instincts had been dead on. There was an entire side to this man that I had never been allowed to see.

"Fine," Carter finally scoffed, a cold, humorless sound. "Let her stay. Shell quit crying within a week anyway."

Just as the words left his mouth, a stray tabby cat leaped from an apple box straight into his lap. Its paws were caked with dirt.

Based on the look of absolute revulsion on Carters face, I braced myself for him to launch the poor thing across the soundstage. Yet, back when we were together, Carter used to spend his Sunday mornings sitting on dirty pavement with me, feeding strays and helping me trap feral cats for the local rescue.

Thankfully, he only furrowed his brow, his body going rigid.

A agonizing minute passed. Finally, he jerked his chin at me. "Get this thing off me."

I muttered an acknowledgment and carefully reached out for the tabby. The cat was sweet, purring as I scooped it up against my chest.

As I pulled away, Carter spoke, his voice dangerously low. "What is that smell on you?"

I blinked behind my sunglasses. "Um... probably my laundry detergent? Its the cheap store brand from Target. Do you want the link?"

The corner of Carters mouth twitched. The familiar disgust returned to his brow. "Hard pass."

But after he said it, his gaze seemed to drift, losing its sharp edge. For a fleeting second, the terrifying tension in his shoulders seemed to loosen.

I always knew Carter came from ridiculous, generational wealth. I knew his family let him study fine arts and film directing in college just to give his resume a trendy, intellectual sheen.

But I had no idea he was actually directing feature films now.

And not just student filmshe had semi-famous actors on his set, and he was currently tearing them to absolute shreds.

Max, the guy who had recruited me online, had told me to just call him Max. When I pulled him aside, I whispered, "Max... is Carter actually a brilliant director?"

Max knew exactly what I was really asking. He chuckled, shaking his head. "These are premium scripts bought out by Kensington Media. His familys conglomerate is fully funding this. They bought him a multi-million-dollar playground so he wouldn't get bored."

I processed that quietly.

Before I could ask anything else, Max shoved me toward the monitor village. "You're up, kid. Go!"

Carter was in the middle of annihilating his leading man. "Could you possibly be any more agonizingly cheesy? Youre supposed to be a brilliant detective, and youre playing it like a cheap gigolo at a discount bachelorette party."

The lead actor looked like he had just swallowed a lemon whole.

Not pausing for breath, Carter swiveled his death glare to the supporting actress. "In the last five minutes, has a single facial muscle moved? Your father died, your boyfriend dumped you, and you found the murder weapon, and you gave me the exact same vacant stare for all three."

The actresss eyes welled with tears.

"Excuse me" I interrupted, stepping in with a paper cup of coffee, right on cue.

The two actors shot me looks of profound, life-altering gratitude.

Because now, it was my turn on the chopping block.

Carter slowly looked up at me, a mocking sneer forming on his lips. "Don't tell me... you brewed this with water from the L.A. River? It smells like a biohazard. What beans did you use? What was the water temperature? Did you put vanilla syrup in this? You know I despise sugar."

When I just stood there, silently absorbing the verbal beating, Carter scoffed.

"Looking at you in that thief's getup, I'm half convinced you poisoned it. Go make another one. If it tastes like this again, you can take your little allergies right back to the emergency room."

"Okay," I squeaked.

Seeing that he was about to turn his wrath back onto the poor lead actor, I threw myself into the line of fire. "How about I just brew five different cups, and you can pick the one you tolerate?"

The air on set evaporated.

Carter let out a dark, breathless laugh. "Are you mentally deficient? Did Max hire you just to shave years off my lifespan?"

He rubbed his temples, his voice dropping to an eerie, terrifying calm. "You can leave right now. And on your way to the hospital, have them drain the water from your brain."

According to Max, any normal assistant would be crying in their car by now.

But I was built different. I was a professional. My emotional tolerance was vastly superior to the average Hollywood intern.

"Carter, stop it. Why are you being so mean to everyone?"

A bright, melodic voice cut through the tension. A stunning woman in full wardrobe and flawless makeup glided onto the set, a serene smile on her face. She naturally stepped in front of the two terrified actors, shielding them.

Max had briefed me on this. If there was one single person on this earth immune to Carters rage, it was the leading lady of this film.

She came from a family with just as much old money as the Kensingtons. According to the gossip, casting her as the lead was just their families very expensive way of forcing the two of them to spend time together.

Carters lips tightened, but the storm clouds in his eyes noticeably dissipated.

Sensing her victory, the woman pressed her advantage. "Im going to run lines with them in my trailer. The great director can enjoy his coffee and give us ten minutes."

She took the rejected cup of coffee straight from my hands and held it out to Carter.

He stared at it for a long, heavy moment. Then, he took it.

The actors looked at her like she was the second coming of Christ and practically sprinted toward her trailer.

Using the distraction, Max yanked me behind a lighting rig.

He shrugged, popping a chip into his mouth. "See? The power of the childhood sweetheart. Unbeatable."

Childhood sweetheart...

I lowered my gaze, staring at my scuffed sneakers.

In the three years I dated Carter, I had never once heard him mention a childhood sweetheart.

It hit me with a dull, hollow ache. I truly never knew him at all.

I took the water bottle Max offered, pulled down my mask for a second, and took a sip. "If shes here to keep the peace, why do you need to hire people like me?"

Max rolled his eyes. "Blair is an A-list star. She cant be playing referee every five minutes. Having a human shield on payroll is way more efficient."

I nodded slowly. "Makes sense."

Max handed me the bag of chips. Since Carter was currently distracted by Blairs presence, I actually got a moment to breathe. I munched on the snacks, deeply grateful to have the mask off for a second. The condensation was starting to break me out.

Max leaned against a production crate, looking at me curiously. "You know, youve got a nice jawline. Good nose, pretty mouth. Why are you doing a crap job like this?"

"The money is great," I said honestly.

"Fair point."

He seemed eager to keep chatting, leaning in to ask me something else when a low, freezing voice drifted over our shoulders.

"Enjoying the picnic, you two?"

Max practically dropped the chips. "Just taking a five! Were done, back to work."

At the sound of that sickeningly familiar voice, a shiver ran down my spine. Not daring to look back, I fumbled with my mask, frantically hooking it back over my ears.

But I wasn't fast enough. From a few feet away, Carter's dark eyes narrowed slightly.

"Are you sure you have an allergic reaction?"

Max jumped in, chuckling with the desperation of a man trying to defuse a bomb. "Oh, yeah, shes got these nasty, peeling hives on her cheeks. From far away it looks fine, but up close, its honestly grotesque. Didn't want to ruin your appetite, boss."

To sell the lie, I hunched my shoulders and gave my cheek a gross, aggressive scratch.

Carter immediately looked away, thoroughly repulsed.

A moment later, he clicked his tongue. "Get over here."

Max and I shuffled over like scolded school children.

Carter pointed a long finger at Max. "Go tell the location scouts that the exterior shoot is delayed by two hours."

Then, he pointed that same finger at me. "You. Go keep an eye on Blair. And make sure that... whatever his name is... the lead actor, doesn't sit too close to her."

"Don't worry," Max whispered as we walked away. "Blair is actually an angel. She won't bite."

I gave a weak laugh. "Carter might be a nightmare to work for, but he clearly cares about her."

"Oh, totally," Max agreed, oblivious to my internal crisis. "Ive never seen Carter go easy on anyone but her. Actually..."

Max paused, his eyes lighting up with the thrill of gossip. "Carter did have an ex-girlfriend a while back. He never talked about her. Blair knew about her, though. She never seemed to care."

My steps faltered. "What?"

Max snorted, leaning in conspiratorially. "Word on the street is, the Kensington family absolutely hated the ex. Mrs. Kensington even went to Blair to apologize for it, saying Carter was just going through a rebellious phase. Blair was totally cool about it. She said guys like Carter are bound to have a few flings, but eventually, hed get bored and come back to where he belongs."

My fingers curled tightly into my palms. I didn't say a word.

So much history. So many machinations behind the scenes of my own life that I was entirely blind to.

"At the end of the day, Carter and Blair are the legacy match. Everyone knows theyre endgame," Max continued, fully caught up in his own storytelling. "Years ago, when Blair wanted to go into acting, her family threatened to cut her off. She had no one in her corner. So, Carter pivoted his whole degree to film directing just to legitimize her career to her parents. Thats the only reason they backed off."

"Why would he do that?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it.

Max shot me a look like I was an idiot. "Because he loves her, obviously. If it weren't for Blair, Carter would be sitting in a boardroom right now with a business degree. A bond like that? Their families didn't stand a chance of keeping them apart."

"Oh," I mumbled.

"Honestly, you kind of have to feel bad for the ex-girlfriend," Max clicked his tongue in pity. "Carter gave his entire lifetime supply of softness to Blair. There was nothing left for anyone else."

I went entirely quiet.

In the three years I loved Carter, I never once felt pitiful.

He had been so incredibly attentive. Rich, gorgeous, and endlessly patient. Whenever I had a bad day, he would pull me onto his lap, bury his face in my neck, and whisper away my anxieties. He orchestrated elaborate surprises. He solved my problems before I even had to ask.

Even at the very end, he had been the picture of a gracious, heartbroken gentleman.

But hearing Max lay it all out like this... I felt completely unmoored.

Beneath the flawless surface of my most treasured relationship lay a labyrinth of secrets, condescension, and humiliation.

"Are you two just going to stand there all day?"

Carters voice cracked like a whip across the set.

Without another word, I turned and walked toward Blairs trailer.

Inside, the lead actor and the supporting actress were huddled around Blair, whining about their bruised egos.

When I walked in, Blair gave me a polite, knowing smile. She didn't ask why I was there. She was a smart woman; she knew Carter had sent a babysitter.

"You're a lifesaver, Blair," the younger actress pouted. "If you hadn't stepped in, he would have fired me."

Blair gently poked the girl's forehead. "I can only save you so many times. You actually have to read the script, honey."

The lead actor sighed heavily, pointing at me. "Did you see what happened out there? This poor girl offered to make him five different coffees, and he told her she was brain-damaged. But the second you handed him that cup, he drank it like it was holy water."

Blair let out a soft, musical laugh, glancing at me dismissively. "Oh, Carter's always been grumpy. You just have to know how to handle him."

"It's true love, I swear," the younger actress teased.

A delicate blush spread across Blairs perfectly contoured cheeks. The other two immediately started making obnoxious, kissy-face noises.

I kept my eyes glued to the floorboards, acting as a piece of furniture until they finally got called back to set.

As Blair headed for the door, she paused and looked back at me. "Since youre not doing anything, do you mind tidying up in here? It got a little messy."

I blinked. "Um, I think I'm just supposed to be a PA for the director."

The lead actor scoffed. "Work is work. Youre Carters assistant, which basically makes you Blairs assistant. You get how the hierarchy works, right?"

The other actress nodded in aggressive agreement.

Blair held up a hand, her voice dripping with faux-patience. "Shes new. Its fine if she doesn't know her place yet. Shell learn."

I swallowed the retort on my tongue and simply nodded.

...

As soon as they were out of earshot, I went straight to Max.

When I told him what happened, he waved his hand dismissively. "Are you crazy? Don't clean that up. Ill call a production PA to do it."

"Max, you're a real one," I said sincerely.

He grinned. "Hey, I need you on the front lines taking Carters bullets. If youre scrubbing toilets, whos going to protect me?"

"..."

Max checked his watch. "Hey, there's a crew dinner tonight. You coming?"

I shook my head immediately. "Pass."

Dinners meant eating. Eating meant taking off the mask. That was a hard no.

"Suit yourself," Max said. "We're wrapping early today anyway. Go home, get some rest. Don't let Carter break your spirit."

Back in my apartment, I let out a massive groan, stretching my arms above my head.

Wearing a hat, sunglasses, and a mask for ten hours straight was sensory hell. My hair was greasy, and my skin felt suffocated.

After a long, scalding shower, I slapped on a sheet mask and collapsed onto the couch. I was half-asleep, comfortably binging a Netflix true-crime doc, when my phone started vibrating wildly.

It was a FaceTime audio call from Max.

A deep sense of dread settled in my stomach. "Hello?"

"Get down here right now," Max sounded like he was on the verge of tears. "Carter had a few drinks at the crew dinner, and he is going nuclear."

"And?"

"I need you to draw his fire! Please!"

"I am off the clock, Max."

"Ill authorize overtime pay! Double rate!"

"Send the address."

Twenty minutes later, I walked into the private dining room of a high-end steakhouse, fully suited up in my disguise.

The atmosphere in the room was suffocating. No one dared to breathe too loudly.

Even Blair was sitting quietly, rubbing her temples, seemingly out of tricks to calm him down.

Carter was slouched back in his leather chair, radiating a dark, volatile energy. His collar was unbuttoned, and the faint flush on his cheeks was the only indicator that he had been drinking.

Max grabbed my sleeve and shoved me forward, silently praying I would do something to attract the monster's attention.

But Carter didn't even look at me.

The silence dragged on. It felt like walking on a frozen lake, waiting for the ice to crack.

Finally, Carters expression went dead. He turned to Max.

"Call Josie."

I froze.

Blairs head snapped up.

Max looked terrified. "Who?"

He glanced at Blairs suddenly rigid posture and quickly did the math. "Oh. Uh. I don't have her number, boss..."

"Ill dictate. You dial," Carter ordered, his voice brooking absolutely no argument.

Sweating bullets, Max pulled out his phone and opened the keypad.

Carters voice was icy and precise. He read out the digits one by one. With every number he spoke, my heart hammered harder against my ribs.

It was my number.

Panic seized me. I jammed my hand into my jacket pocket. Did I put my phone on silent?! I cant remember!

Whatever, I just needed to power it down. I pressed my thumb hard against the power button.

Just as I applied pressure, my phone erupted into a cheerful, aggressively loud pop song.