“I’m full of surprises, as I’m sure you’ve gathered over our time together.”
“You’re full of something, that’s for sure.” She clears her throat. “Well, I should get back to my date. We are planning on grabbing a nightcap somewhere, and I shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
I don’t have time to fully process, nor come to terms with the caveman-like jealousy that instantly bubbles in my veins because the moment she moves to step around me, she wobbles on her heels and falls chest first into my body.
I cradle her back in my hands. “Whoa, whoa. Careful.”
“I’m sorry… These shoes… the wine and whiskey…” she says breathily, not making any move to push away from me, in fact, I can feel her fingers wrapping in the lapels of my coat, holding herself to me.
“So you did drink it.” I smirk.
Her eyes bolt back and forth between mine. I would give anything to be able to read her mind right now. I want to know what is happening behind those beautiful eyes of hers.
The rest of her body, however, I can read perfectly right now. I can feel the pounding of her heart. The trembling of her hands. The heat of her breath. The slender, dainty feel of her body in my hands, and the delicious scent of rose and vanilla that must belong to her lotion or perfume.
Fuck, if this were anyone else… Anyone else in the world… This would be signed, sealed, and delivered.
But she’s my employee.
I’m her boss.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Piper? You okay down there?” a voice calls from behind me and she pushes away immediately.
“Yeah, yes. I was just talking to Mr. Lennox about something for work. I’ll be right there, Ryan.”
“Ryan, eh? Seems like a pussy.”
She rolls her eyes. “God, you’re an asshole.”
“That is my M.O. after all, at least according to you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it seems we both have pressing matter to… attend to.” I give my jacket a tug, trying with all my might to calm the erection that is pressing into my slacks. “And for the record, Piper… you look beautiful tonight.”
With that, I give her a nod farewell and make my way back to the dining area to finish my dinner with Courtney.
Later, while I’m alone at home after denying Courtney when she asks to come upstairs, and I’m jerking my cock in the shower, there is only one face in my mind.
Piper
By the time I get back to my apartment, nearly an hour later, I’ve felt my phone vibrate in my pocket a dozen times.
Okay, that may be an exaggeration, but it was at least six times, and without even looking at it, I know who it is.
There’s only one person on the planet who thinks it’s appropriate to bark orders via text when I’m off the clock, like I’m some kind of personal assistant.
I step into my apartment, shutting and locking the door behind me. I don’t even walk all the way inside before I pull my cell out to open the messages.
Sure enough. Three of them are from Asshole himself, as he is so affectionately labeled in my phone.
The others are from Kate and my mother.
Asshole: Check your email. This memo needs revisions before Monday morning.
Kate: Let me know when you’re home safe.
Asshole: You’ll need to stay late that night as well. The meeting I want you to sit in on was delayed until later in the day.
Mom: Dinner at my house this weekend? I want all of us together for it. Please? I forgot to ask before you left.
Asshole: Dress appropriately. It’s an important client.
What the fuck? Fuck him. Fuck him for that. I always dress appropriately.
I send a text off to my mom, letting her know I’d love to have dinner; then I promptly ignore the texts from Nathanial and reply to Kate.
Me: I’m home safe. Oh! And in case you didn’t know, Nathanial is lucky I want to sit on his face until I can’t remember my own name. That at least makes up for the fact he’s a complete… fucking… asshole.
I toss my phone into my bag then disappear into my apartment for a much-needed shower.
Chapter 5
Piper
Piper,
How did your date go? Well, I hope! It seems like some downtime could be quite good for you.
As far as the mysterious “him” who shall not be named, I say, if you aren’t willing to tell him how you feel, just let it go. Go have fun. Last night was a good step!
Ida
I read over the email reply then tuck my cell into the garter strap over my thigh-highs. It’s tight enough that it should stay there securely until I’m back at my desk. This penpal-esque relationship I’ve developed with Ida has been odd, but very needed to say the least. It began as answers in her advice column, but then switched to direct email replies shortly after that. I’m not sure if everyone receives this treatment from her, but the ability to be honest with an unbiased third party is pretty helpful. Is my life really that sad I’m forming a friendship with a faceless self-help columnist?
I can’t even begin to process that realization right now. I have a boss to make sweat.
“How’s this for professional, you arrogant, beautiful asshole?” I mumble to myself, as I stare in the bathroom mirror in the office, twisting my hair into a simple updo, then smooth my hands down my black pencil skirt.
I went for classy on the outside today, with the pencil skirt and a blue silk blouse tucked into it, but underneath, that’s my secret weapon. Lingerie makes me feel confident, so I have a lacy black number and thigh-high stockings hidden beneath.
And the cherry on top, well… Bottom… is a pair of sky-high, royal blue suede pumps.
I feel like a thousand bucks in this and it gives me every ounce of confidence I need to strut my shit into the conference room ahead of schedule and lay all of the materials out for the meeting. I will make sure he has nothing to say about anything.
Water pitchers filled? Check.
Agendas placed at each and every chair? Check.
Snacks placed in the center of the table? Check.
Pens at the ready for anyone who should need one? Check.
Projector and laptop hooked appropriately and ready to roll? Check and check.
In fact, I’m so ahead of the game I have time to take my seat in the corner, cross my legs just so, and have my iPad out and at the ready when guests begin rolling in.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t make at least some kind of snide, internal comment about the fact that it’s all men filing in, but Old Man Lennox was old-school. He was kind, but he was a textbook old, rich white man who liked to surround himself with other old, rich white men. He was kind, but a few months before he suddenly retired, I began to notice he was less and less like the man who hired me. That man was sharp as a tack and sweet. How he produced the beautiful, asshole walking in the door right now, I’ll never know.
Nathanial looks like sex on a stick today, and it’s impossible not to notice. He’s dressed in a dark, charcoal black suit with a crisp white shirt and a blue tie that pops against his eyes.
I purse my matte, dark brown painted lips together and shift in my seat as I watch him survey all of the things I did. He’s checking my work behind me, just as he always does. I watch him run his hand over his smooth jawline then he swings his eyes over to me and holds my gaze.