by J. S. Cooper
“And I suppose that’s why you enjoy poetry and performing?”
“I think so. There’s something so vulnerable about standing up and sharing something you wrote in front of people and seeing their faces and their eyes.” We stopped outside the carpenter’s building. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s powerful.”
“I guess I should tell you they have an open mic night at the pub every week. I’m sure you could perform some of your poetry there. If you are finished with your work, of course,” he added.
“Of course,” I agreed, but he’d lit a little flame of excitement in me. Maybe I didn’t have to give up everything that I loved just to make some money.
“Have you ever thought about acting?”
“Nah.” I smiled wryly. “I’m not really a good actress.” I laughed. “My face is overly expressive.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“No.” I shook my head. “A good actress is more subtle in her emotions, just like a good author is more subtle in their words. It’s the whole show-don’t-tell thing.”
“So you’re a better author than actor?”
“Not yet. Not really. But I’m trying. It’s hard for me to not shove my emotions and feelings into someone's face.”
“I can see that.” He laughed. “You certainly don’t hold back, but I like that. You’re very honest. Most people aren’t so honest.”
“I don’t know that it helps me.” I shrugged. “But I feel like I need to lead my life as transparently as possible.”
“And you live a life true to yourself?”
“I like to think so.”
“Was taking this job true to yourself?” His eyes narrowed as he studied my face. Looking into his eyes, I felt like he was trying to read my soul. It made me feel uncomfortable and I wondered why I had opened up to him so easily. I couldn’t stand the guy, yet there was something in his aura that attracted me to him. And it wasn’t just his good looks. It was more than that.
Granted, I wanted to rip his shirt off and touch his chest and kiss his lips and pull his hair. I wanted to feel his teeth nipping on my breasts and his hands on my ass—
Shit! I blushed as dirty thoughts flooded through me. Was I that desperate for a man that I was standing here in the middle of the street fantasizing about my new boss?
“You look puzzled. Are you okay, Savannah?” Wade’s voice was teasing.
I blinked and ran my fingers through my hair before tugging it behind my ear. “Yeah, sorry, uhm. Our conversation went a lot deeper than I was expecting.”
“I hear that a lot.” He grinned.
“You hear what a lot?”
“That I go a lot deeper than expected.” He licked his lips. “Women are constantly surprised by me.”
My face flushed at the innuendo. He grinned, waiting for me to react. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but as that self-congratulatory expression crossed his face, I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to resist.
“I’m guessing the women you’ve been impressing haven’t used the Magnum 2000.” I smiled sweetly. “That dildo has gone deeper than any cock I know could.” I looked down at the front of his pants. “And judging by the bulge—or lack thereof—that I saw in the front of your swimming shorts this morning, I’d say that yours isn’t even up for comparison.” My heart was racing as I finished up my little speech.
Annoyance flashed across his face, but he covered it quickly with amusement. “You have absolutely no idea, old maid. We better go inside and speak to Chuck before I give you grounds to sue me for sexual harassment, or even worse, get us locked up for a public display of wanton sexual activity.”
“Excuse me?” I blinked at him. “What does that mean?”
“It means that if I were to let you feel or see just how big my magnum is, you’d be dropping to your knees for a nice long suck. And let’s just say that my lollipop lasts for a very long time.” He winked.
Before I could respond he was opening the door and walking into the building, with me straggling behind him. And the only thought on my mind was, just how big was he? And would he taste as good as I thought he looked?
Chapter 8
I was woken up by sunlight pouring through the window. I smiled as I stretched in the comfortable bed. I rolled over and yawned. I’d slept well.
Maybe the job wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought. Wade and I had shared a pizza in the pub along with some drinks, and while he hadn’t exactly opened up to me like we were best friends, we’d had a good time. At least, I thought we had. Not that it had gotten very personal. Wade had talked more about his business, and I’d asked him questions related to my duties. Even though it included a lot of tedious work, the job seemed like it could be rewarding. And once I had all the money, I could focus on living my life the way I really wanted to. I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed my notebook and pen and started scribbling a poem that was in my mind.
* * *
Just one look
Just one touch
Just one feel
It wouldn’t be too much
I can see it in your eyes
I can taste it on my lips
If you had your way
I’d be on my knees
I wouldn’t say no
I wouldn’t say yes
If it were just one night
I’d take off my dress
* * *
I paused as my heart raced and blushed at the thought of stripping naked for Wade. There had been one moment the night before that had made me feel as if the room were spinning. We’d both reached for a slice of pizza and our fingertips had grazed each other. It had barely been anything, but that touch and the subsequent look Wade had given me had felt like a jolt of lightning. My entire body had reacted, had been on alert, and as he’d talked, I’d been more drawn to his words and his body. Wade Hart was magnetic. With his handsome face, tall, built body, smooth voice, and devious smile, he had the ability to draw you to him, even if you didn’t want to be drawn. When we’d arrived home, he’d gone straight to his room and I’d gone to mine, but as I’d gotten into bed, I’d lain there and wondered what I would do if he knocked and walked in naked.
A sudden knocking on the door interrupted my thoughts and I let out an involuntary yelp.
“Everything okay?” Wade walked into the room, in a pair of red swimming trunks and a bare chest. He wasn’t naked, but my heart still raced as I sat up. He walked over to the bed and looked at me, notebook still in my hand. “Did something happen? Why did you yell?”
“Nothing happened, you just shocked me when you knocked on the door.”
“Knocking on the door shocked you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, then.”
“Okay, so was there something you wanted?” I tried not to blush as I found myself once again staring at his chest. It was nicely tanned with a smattering of dark hair across his pecs. My fingers itched to run across it to see if the hair felt soft or prickly, but of course I didn’t let them.
“I’m going for my morning swim.” He smirked as if he knew what I was thinking. “I’ll expect breakfast to be ready for me in forty-five minutes.”
“Okay.” I looked over at the clock on the night table. “So, eight a.m.?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Moving forward, I’ll expect coffee to be ready for me before my swim.”
“Uhm, okay? Do you have a coffee machine?”
“I have a machine, but I expect you to brew it and make it as I like it.”
“I thought you liked it black?”
“I expect to have a black coffee and a boiled egg and fruit ready for me before my swim.”
“Just now you just said you wanted coffee before your swim.” I glared at him, not even caring when the sheet fell down and exposed the fact that I’d gone to bed in a too-tight tank top and no bra. His gaze fell to my chest, but I didn’t care. “Now all of a sudden when I say you can set the timer on your coffee maker, you need more than coffee?”
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“Firstly, you never said that I could set the timer on the coffee maker, and secondly, what you say or want doesn’t matter: you work for me.”
“I knew I was being too kind thinking you weren’t a jackass,” I grumbled. “So, what, I’m working for you from six a.m. to midnight? Why don’t we just say I work for you twenty-four seven. Why even give me my own room? Why don’t I just sleep with you so I can be at your beck and call all night as well?”
“Are you asking if you can join me in my bed?” He gave me a pointed look. “Are you trying to come on to me, Ms. Carter?”
“What the hell? What are you talking about? No, I’m not trying to come on to you!”
“Well, your nipples are pointing to attention, and you’re asking to sleep in my bed ...”
I looked down at my chest and gasped. I knew my tank top was a bit tight, but I didn’t realize that my nipples were hard and visible through the flimsy fabric. I grabbed the sheet and pulled it back up to cover me. “I was being facetious,” I made a face at him. “Look it up if you don’t know what it means.”
“I’m not looking anything up. I want my coffee, now.” He grinned. “Oh, and I also have your uniform ready and waiting for you.”
“My uniform?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot already that you have to wear a uniform.”
“No, but I really don’t understand why.”
“It’s not for you to understand. It’s for you to do.” He turned around and walked toward the door. “I’ll put your uniform in the kitchen. I expect you to be wearing it when I come in for breakfast.”
“Am I meant to wear it all day?”
“That’s up to you.”
“Really? That’s up to me now?”
“It’s only required at certain times of the day.”
“What times of the day?”
“You’re a smart girl, let’s see if you can figure it out.”
“You really get on my nerves, you know that, right?”
“Is that any way to talk to your boss?” He turned his head, gave me a little wink and walked out of the room. My pillow hit the doorframe about five seconds later and I groaned into my hands. I stared at the poem in my notebook and was about to scratch it out when instead I wrote a new one.
* * *
Just a crack
of a smile
is all
you need
to rise back up
out of his control.
* * *
I was not going to let Wade Hart irritate me. Or annoy me. Or make me slap him. I was not going to let Wade Hart make me fantasize about him. Or want him. Or flirt with him. I was going to act professional. I was going to pretend he was the president of the United States of America and I was an intern (and not Monica Lewinsky, either). I would treat him with respect, as if he were my father’s boss or something. I would not let him ruffle my feathers or make me mad or turn me on or make me scream.
“You need to try harder than this, Savannah,” I mumbled as I rolled out of the bed and stretched. I plodded toward the bathroom door and stopped by the window to stare at the rising sun for a few more seconds. It had been a nice morning while it had lasted, but now I was back to work. I was going to put on my game face and act like this was the best job I’d ever had in my life and Wade Hart was the best boss I could ever hope to have.
“Oh, hell to the no!”
I picked up the maid’s outfit that was sitting on the chair. “That asshole has to be joking.” I held up the flimsy black skirt, white apron and black shirt. “Who the hell does he think he is?” I threw the outfit back onto the chair and stomped over to the fridge. “Hell will freeze over before I wear a maid’s outfit,” I muttered as I opened the fridge door and pulled out the carton of orange juice.
A part of me wondered if I should call John Boy back and tell him that I’d changed my mind. Maybe investing a grand into his business would get me back twenty grand. “Yeah right, and maybe you’ll be the next Julia Roberts.” I rolled my eyes as I grabbed a glass. “In your dreams.” I drank the orange juice and considered my options. I could go out to the pool right now, throw the uniform into the water, and tell him I was leaving and quit. Or I could put on the uniform and keep my paycheck.
I grit my teeth. The uniform was degrading. And it looked pretty slutty, though I supposed if I wore tights underneath it, it wouldn’t look as sexy as if I had bare legs. A small smile crossed my face as an idea hit me. I could wear sexy fishnet stockings underneath the skirt and high heels, and that would really show Wade that he couldn’t intimidate me whatsoever. I didn’t have stockings on me, but I could try and get them in town or order a pair online. I’d love to see his face if I sauntered into his room with a button undone and a pair of sexy fishnets. He’d soon realize that not only had he not intimidated me, but that I was comfortable in my own skin.
I put the glass down on the counter and walked back over to the table and grabbed the uniform. I walked slowly back to my room and stared at the paintings on the walls. Some of them looked real and expensive. I wondered if they were prints or if Wade had really spent millions on these works of art. It would be unreal to be so rich that I could afford to buy a Picasso or a Chagall. I couldn’t even afford to buy the prints of great works of art at museum stores.
I opened the bedroom door and pulled off my top and jeans quickly before pulling on the uniform. The skirt was a lot shorter than I’d thought. I studied my reflection in the full-length mirror. I looked like a maid in a porno movie, not someone who actually cleaned for a living. But I wasn’t a cleaner. And I wasn’t a maid, either. I’d taken a job as an assistant. It was rude of Wade to expect me to wear this. I could feel myself growing angry again, so I quickly pulled out my phone to call Lucy so that she could calm me down and remind me why I was sticking with this job.
“Hey, sunshine, how’s it going?”
“It’s not going.”
“Uh oh, what happened?”
“Did I tell you I hate my boss?”
“What did he do now?”
“He gave me my uniform.”
“That bad?”
“Well, do you call a maid’s uniform bad or not?”
“Oh, wow!” Lucy laughed and I glared into the phone.
“It’s not funny.”
“I know, I’m sorry, but man, this guy sounds like a piece of work.”
“He’s more than a piece of work, he’s the biggest asshole I’ve ever met.”
“Are you unhappy?” Lucy asked in a concerned tone. “You know you can always come home. We can figure it out if you’re really hating it. We can move to another apartment, and maybe I can try and get a bartending job to help pay more.”
“Lucy, you would get a second job to help me?”
“Of course. You’re my best friend, Savannah. We can make this work. You can’t stay at a job if you’re uncomfortable.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m uncomfortable. I’d just say that my new boss sucks.”
“So, should I expect you on the next train or not?”
“No.” I sighed. “I can suck it up and be his maid even though I'm not actually his maid.”
“Are you guys not getting on at all?”
“I thought we were last night. We had a good night, and I actually thought maybe this might not be so bad.”
“Oh, tell me more.”
“Girl, I would, but I have to go.” I looked at the clock on my nightstand. “I have to hurry back to the kitchen and make his breakfast. If he gets out of the pool without food waiting for him on the table, he might just fire me, and then it won’t matter if I’m annoyed with him.”
“Oh, Savannah, you sound like this man’s slave more than his personal assistant.” Lucy sounded motherly as her voice got softer. “Look, if at any time you want to come home, just call, okay? Even if you don’t have money. I will send you money for the train. I will send an Uber to the house. Shit, I’ll rent a car and come and pick you up. You do not hav
e to stay there, no matter what you think, okay?”
“Okay,” I said almost tearfully. “Thank you, Lucy. I love you.”
“I love you too, girl. Sisters for life.”
“Best friends for life.” I grinned into the phone and then groaned. “Okay, I better go now for real. I have no idea what I’m going to cook. Maybe eggs and arsenic.”
“If the police call me, I’ll say I know nothing.” She laughed as I hung up the phone and hurried back to the kitchen. I had fifteen minutes to get Wade’s breakfast ready. I sighed as I opened the fridge and looked at its contents. I could see a carton of milk, eggs, bacon, sausages. I walked over to the bread bin and saw a loaf of sourdough bread. I could make scrambled eggs with bacon and toast. My stomach growled as I thought of those items.
“Scrambled eggs it is.” I smiled to myself and walked back over to the fridge and took out four eggs and some milk. I opened the cupboard to find a pan and bowl and I found myself humming under my breath as I worked. It wasn’t actually so bad making breakfast in the morning, especially when it was in a kitchen like this. The countertops were the white and gray Carrara marble that I loved and a giant slab of the same material adorned the massive island. I turned on the eight-burner Miele stovetop and admired my surroundings. French doors led out to the back garden, and it looked like it was going to be a sunny day. I felt content. Which surprised me considering I was in the middle of nowhere cooking breakfast for a man who annoyed the shit out of me.
I placed a frying pan on top of one of the burners and melted some butter in the pan as I cracked open the eggs and added a dash of salt, pepper, and milk to the eggs before whisking them together. As I beat the eggs, I looked around for a microwave. I was debating frying the bacon or heating it up in the microwave in some paper towels.
“To fry or not to fry that is the question.” I giggled to myself as I poured the eggs into the pan and quickly looked for a spatula.