I laugh. “Don’t you mean you deserve to get off on all the juicy details?”
She glares at me and I laugh again. She does have a point.
“Okay, okay. Yes, I know. I owe you for this one. Shade was fabulous.”
Her eyes light up. “So, you did love riding the teenage pony?”
I shudder.
“Shade is not a teenager.”
She grins. “I know. But he’s the closest legal thing.”
“You’re a sick, sick person, you know that?” I tell her. She nods without shame.
“I know. And for the record, I don’t really want a teenager. I just like to be shocking.”
“Don’t I know it,” I mutter.
“But that’s neither here nor there,” she announces with her fire-engine-red lips. “I only have thirty minutes left til I have to be back at the office. I have an open house this afternoon. I need to know. Was it amazing? Do you owe me a Lexus or a Ferrari?”
I grin. “Neither. But I do owe you a huge fucking thank you.”
She squeals. “I knew it!! Tell me All. Of. It.”
So I do. I tell her of the handcuffs, the rough sex, the licking, the biting, the….everything. She is staring dreamily into space as I finish up.
“I knew he’d be good,” she tells me, drumming her red fingertips on the bistro table. “If I weren’t so loyal to Chaz and so dedicated to ensuring that he gets a good college education, I might try Shade out.”
“Ha! You don’t care about his college tuition,” I say, but I am shocked by how territorial I feel toward Shade and by how much I don’t want him to have sex with Sara. I gulp. He’s a gigolo. He has sex with a lot of people. That’s what he does. It’s his job. I gulp again.
“I do, too,” Sara insists. “I am a true patron of the arts. Particularly interactive arts.”
I giggle. “Sara, having sex is not an art.”
She glares at me. “If you believe that, then you aren’t doing it right. Speaking of doing it right, I made an appointment for you to go with me to get a Brazilian done day after tomorrow. You can thank me later. Or rather, Shade can.” She laughs evilly. I stare at her, my mouth hanging open
“A Brazilian? As in, a Brazilian wax? Down there?”
My crotch is instantly terrified and tries to crawl inside of my body at my words.
I silently croon to it. It’s okay, my pet. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.
Aloud, I say, “You must be insane, Sara. I will never, ever, ever get a Brazilian wax. Not ever. Not in a million years. Uh-uh. Not happening.”
She stares at me, unconcerned.
“I already made the appointment. It’s at 6:45. You’re going to go. You’ll love it. Shade will love it. It will release your inner lioness. Trust me.”
“I’m not a lioness and I’m not going,” I insist.
And in this moment, I mean it.
“Oh, you’re going,” she says as she takes her last bite of sandwich.
“Whatever you want to think,” I shake my head as I gather my trash. “I’ve got to get back to work. Apparently, we’re meeting our new Vice President today. I can’t be late getting back.”
Sara looks at me. “How’s Brainy Brian doing? You know what they say about smart guys. They have big penises.”
“No one says that,” I sigh as I grab my purse. Brainy Brian is a recently divorced guy at work. He’s decent looking, nice and makes good money. Sara has been convinced for several months now that I should date him, if only to practice. He’s not my type—he’s too wishy-washy. I need someone more assertive. And for some reason, I highly doubt that he has a big penis. Not that it matters.
Unless it is way too small.
But that doesn’t matter to me anyway, because I’m not interested.
“And he’s the same as always, Sara. Want me to get his number for you?”
“Maybe,” she calls after me. “Call me tonight.”
“Maybe,” I call back.
I drive the short distance back to work from the little park that Sara and I always meet in to have lunch. I like the fountains there and she likes the shirtless male roller-bladers. It’s also a perfect middle distance between her real estate office and my office building. We’re all about compromise.
“Hello, Mrs. Lancaster,” Larry, the front desk guy in the lobby greets me as I walk past.
“It’s Ms. Lancaster now, Larry, “I remind him. He nods.
“I forgot. I’m sorry, Ms. Lancaster.”
I smile and continue walking past. As I punch the elevator button, Taylor, my admin, rushes up to me as though she’d been waiting for me. She hands me messages, chattering a mile a minute as we wait for the elevator.
“Were you watching for me from the window?” I ask suspiciously.
“Of course not,” she answers innocently. “I happened to be downstairs in the lounge at the vending machines.”
“With my messages in your pocket?” I ask doubtfully. She shrugs.
“Coincidence?”
I have to smile. My assistant is a damn good one. She runs my calendar, she thinks for herself and she puts out fires for me all of the time. And even though she has a nose-ring, I’m happy to have her. One of my biggest dreads in life is the day she turns in her notice. She has assured me that this will never happen, that she will stay with me until we both die and then we’ll be cremated and share the same mausoleum space. I suspect that she’s being facetious.
“Oh,” she says as she turns to me. “Rick the Dick’s lawyer called. Said something about you running down his fiancée?”
(Side-note: Yes, I refer to my ex-husband as Rick the Dick to anyone who will listen, except for my daughter. It tends to stick with people. They re-use the term, which causes me great joy. Okay. Carry on.)
The elevator doors open and we step in. I sigh.
“Seriously? I can’t believe he actually called his lawyer.”
Taylor stares at me, waiting for an explanation.
“I might have slightly run over Vanessa at the mall yesterday morning. It wasn’t a big thing and it was her fault. Please call back Rick’s attorney and tell him to contact my lawyer, not me. I’m done talking to them.”
“Done,” she says, writing on her little notepad. “And you really ran her down? You’re badass, boss.”
I don’t bother reminding her that it was an accident. I sort of like being called badass.
“Also, don’t forget that we’re meeting your new boss this afternoon,” she reminds me as we wind our way through the marketing department that I oversee to get to my corner office. “You might not want to mention to him that you ran over someone yesterday.”
I roll my eyes.
“I know,” I tell her. “I haven’t forgotten. Have you seen him yet?” I only ask this because Taylor keeps an eagle eye out for everything. Nothing escapes her attention. Plus, she networks with the other admins in the building. Nothing happens without them knowing about it.
“I have,” she tells me proudly as I walk into my office and drop my briefcase into a chair at my conference table. “He’s drop-dead gorgeous, for an older guy.”
I eye her.
“What do you consider older?” Since Taylor is twenty-five, it’s hard to say.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she muses she hands me an afternoon agenda. “Maybe thirty-five or forty.”
“Hmm,” I answer absently as I look at the agenda. It looks like my afternoon is shot because of the new guy. I have a meet-and-greet with him in his office at 3:00 after he addresses my department at 2:00. “Sounds promising.”
“Definitely promising,” Taylor confirms. “He’s delicious.”
I stop what I’m doing and look at her. “Don’t even talk like that,” I tell her. “It’s against the rules to date co-workers.”
“No, it’s not,” she answers. “It’s just frowned upon. He could be the one for me. Do you really want to stand in the way of true love?”
I roll my eyes. Am I really surro
unded by lunatics in every aspect of my life? Before I am able to answer, there is a soft rap at the door. Taylor and I both turn to find a middle-aged man striding confidently into my large office.
I inhale sharply, then hope that no one noticed.
He’s a very, very attractive middle-aged man. Wow.
He’s tall, maybe 6’1” or so. Dark hair that is cut close and clean. He’s distinguished and sexy. And I’m once again reminded of how unfair Mother Nature actually is. And there’s no way that she’s a woman. A woman wouldn’t give men such unfair advantages in life. She would make men the ones to give birth and get stretch-marks, then breastfeed until their male boobies drooped like two socks filled with wet sand. She would not allow them to age like this. No way.
Focus, Allison, I tell myself. Focus on the beautiful man in front of you.
Beautiful Man is wearing a dark, very expensive suit and he holds out his hand to shake mine.
“You must be Allison,” he says. I find that I am staring so intensely into his dark blue eyes that I almost forget to answer. It takes Taylor nudging me to jolt me into action.
“Um, sorry. Yes, I’m Allison Lancaster. You can call me Alli.”
“Good, “he says briskly, shaking my hand firmly. “I’m Alexander Harris. You can call me Alex. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. I’m going to say a few words to your department here in a bit and then I look forward to speaking with you one-on-one. I’d like to hear how you do things, how things run, etc. Does that sound like a plan?”
He seems so familiar, like I’ve met him before. But I know that I haven’t. I would definitely remember Beautiful Man. I mean, Alex. He’s got a commanding presence about him. And he’s gorgeous.
“Of course, “I tell him warmly. “I look forward to it.”
“Alright, then,” he says. His eyes crinkle a little at the corner when he smiles. I’m guessing he’s either in his late thirties or early forties. And did I mention gorgeous? “I’ll see you soon.”
And he’s gone.
Taylor turns to me.
“Did I tell you?” she sounds so knowing. So knowing that it is annoying.
“Well, I hope he has good things intended for this department,” I say matter-of-factly. I drop into my chair and pick up my mouse, scrolling through my email. Taylor doesn’t take the hint. She lingers, musing about Alex.
“Do you think he’s married? I didn’t see a ring on his finger.”
“A lot of men don’t wear rings,” I tell her, not looking up. “Particularly the lying, cheating ones who don’t want other women to know they’re married. And you don’t need to worry about his marital status, anyway. Just go and return my calls, please.”
I smile to let her know that I’m not mad, but she knows that I mean it. I’m done pondering about the new guy.
Until twenty minutes later when I am standing in the back of the main conference room watching him speak to my employees.
He’s at ease with them, laughing with them, talking frankly and openly about the changes he intends to make and the things he will keep the same. He easily commands the room, yet he doesn’t act as though he is the new senior Vice President of Business Development. He acts like a friendly, knowledgeable neighbor who happens to be in the business.
As he speaks, his eyes find their way to mine. I can see warmth there, and a worldly wisdom and sparkling flecks of dark gray buried within the blue.
And once again, I have the feeling that I know him. It’s frustrating.
He wraps things up and mingles for a bit, then makes his way to me.
“Would you be so kind as to meet me in my office in five minutes or so?” He smiles. And my knees feel weak.
Shit. This can’t be good. I can’t work with weak knees.
I nod. “Of course. I’ll be there.”
“Good.” He smiles again and takes his leave. Taylor steps forward and nudges me.
“Can I say I told you so yet?”
I glare at her. “No. You can’t.”
“Okay,” she chirps cheerfully. “It’s enough to know that it’s true.”
She trots off to chatter with someone else, someone more willing to gush over our new boss with her. I do what any self-respecting and normal female does before meeting with her sexy-as-hell new boss. I sprint to the ladies room to freshen my lipstick.
Four point five minutes later, I am knocking softly on Alex’s office door, my lips perfectly done.
“Come in,” he calls from behind his desk. He stands up as I enter and waves his hand toward one of the two plush leather chairs in front of his large desk. “Please sit. Make yourself comfortable.” I choose a seat.
“Thank you for chatting with me,” Alex says cordially. I can’t help but notice how he fills out his tailored shirt now that he’s removed his suit jacket. I can practically see the muscles rippling behind the expensive cotton blend. This is a man who is no stranger to a gym.
“Of course,” I answer demurely, or my best imitation of what I think demure ought to be. “I didn’t know exactly what all you would want to discuss, so I’m afraid I’m a little unprepared. I didn’t bring anything with me.”
“Oh, you’re fine,” Alex says, smiling. “I simply wanted to get your take on this department and how things are currently run. You head it up, correct?”
I nod. “Yes. I’ve worked here for ten years. I started out as a middle manager and then after I earned my MBA, I started moving up the ranks.”
Alex glances at a file on his desk. “And now you’re an executive director in control of a very key department in this company. Marketing is imperative to any company’s growth. You must feel the stress from time to time. Do you handle stress well?”
That’s a very strange question, I decide as I stare at him.
“Yes, I do,” I answer honestly.
“Good,” he answers. “Because I see here that you’re recently divorced. I don’t usually pry into my staff’s private affairs, but I’d like to know if you’ll still be able to handle your professional stress level when it is combined with your personal stress?”
I stare at him and he stares back. He is calm and quiet and I am sure that he is unflappable. His dark gaze is unwavering. He is still beautiful, though, even when he is prying into my personal affairs and asking uncomfortable questions.
“My divorce was nine months ago,” I tell him. “The bulk of the stress came during the first month. I’m fine now, I can assure you, just as I’ve been fine for the duration of my divorce. I’ve worked here for a long time. I know this company like the back of my hand. I can handle anything you throw at me and then ask for more.”
My chin has automatically come up. It is annoying to me that this new guy thinks he can question my ability to do my job. I can do twice as much as he can with one hand tied behind my back. Of that, I am sure. He looks surprised by my determined tone.
“Allison, I meant no offense,” he tells me soothingly. “I have been through a divorce. I only ask because I know what a toll it took on me. Those things are stressful. I just needed to know if I should let this department continue as it is for the time being or if you would be okay handling some of the changes that I would like to implement immediately. I wasn’t questioning your abilities, I can assure you. I’ve heard glowing things about you from everyone here. You are well respected by your staff and your colleagues alike.”
My dander immediately goes back down and my feathers become smooth again. If I had them, which of course I don’t.
“Oh,” I say. I don’t really know what else to say. “I’m sorry if I sounded defensive. It’s just that this company has been sort of a ‘Good ol’ boys’ company for a long time. I had to claw my way to where I’m at. And I can’t let it be thought that I am weak. Because I’m not.”
“I have no doubt,” Alex assures me. “And what do you mean by Good Ol’ Boys?”
I flinch. “Um. Okay. Maybe that was a bad choice of words. What I meant was that there aren’t a lot of
women in executive positions here. It’s mainly older men who have been here for a very long time. It’s like a club. And I had to fight my way in.”
“You had to kick down those glass ceilings with your high heels?” Alex grins and I inhale. Sweet Lord, the man’s smile is breath-taking.
“In a matter of speaking,” I nod.
He nods back. “Good. I like for my staff to have spunk. I like the fact that you’ve got it.”
His gaze is appreciative and warm and that warmth transfers to me, flooding my face and my limbs. I have no idea how this is going to play out… me working for this new sexy boss. Particularly since he is as charming as he is handsome. That’s a recipe for utter destruction if I’ve ever seen it.
“Can you tell me a little about how this department is run?” he asks. I am distracted by his hands. I have a thing for sexy male hands. If a man has long, strong fingers, I’m all in. And Alex certainly does. I grit my teeth.
“Of course,” I answer.
So I spend the next thirty minutes ignoring his sexy hands and explaining how I have three directors, five senior managers and then forty lower level employees in this department who report to me and ultimately report to him. I explain the processes. I explain the current strategies that we’re working on. I explain the company’s current culture, even. And I do it all while ignoring his gorgeous hands.
I feel pretty proud of myself as I finish up.
I’ve obviously got amazing fortitude.
When I’m through speaking, I look at my new boss, waiting for a reaction. Alex sits back and swivels in his chair. His limbs are all sprawled out and he is very relaxed looking. And sexy. Did I mention sexy already?
He nods, thinking to himself. He spins and stares out the window. He temples his fingers, blowing on them. Finally, he turns back to me.
“I like it. I like the current hierarchy. We’ll keep that in place. I have a special project that I’d like your input on, but we can discuss that later.”
Confessions of an Alli Cat Page 5