by Messer Stone
Apparently, I’ve got it so bad for Parker that I even find this version of him unbelievably sexy.
“So.” He rubs his hands together, brushing off crumbs. “What have you learned so far today?”
I perk up, recognizing this as my first opportunity to prove my worth. Remember his insistence for candor and honesty, I take a long sip of soda through my straw and clear my throat. “Well, for one thing, I think Greg Madison is a total dud.”
His eyebrows shoot up, but he looks undeniably pleased. “Oh? And why’s that?”
“He’s heading up your Financial division, which should be your strongest, since it’s the oldest and most established. But right now, it’s performing behind Media, your newest division and the smallest.” I bite my lip before pushing on. “If I were you, I’d edge him out and replace him.”
“Oh?” He smirks at me, but I can tell that he’s impressed. “With who?”
“That lady you’ve got heading up research and development. Priya Deshpande.”
He nods with pursed lips, as though he’s considering my suggestion.
“Funny you should say that….” His face lights up with a slow-growing smile. “Greg’ll be out by the end of next month. Priya just signed on to take his place.”
He shakes his head and laughs. “Man. You’re a fast learner, aren’t you?”
I shrug, fighting a pleased smile. “Or maybe you’re just a really good teacher.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth I want to grab them out of the air and put them back inside. It wasn’t so much the words I said, as the way I said them. Could I sound any more like a lovesick school girl? When I meet his eyes again, the look on his face takes me breath away. Awe, tenderness and something raw I don’t have a name for.
His voice is hoarse when he finally speaks. “You’re gonna do such great things, Mercy. Just you wait.”
* * * *
It doesn’t escape my notice how the women around the office are particularly attentive to my new boss. About mid-afternoon, we attend an account strategy meeting for Swerve, an up and coming e-commerce company. Once it’s over, Parker and I are on our way out when Blair, one of Swerve’s attorneys, puts her hand on his arm, going so far as to stroke his bicep with her thumb.
“Parker, it’s so wonderful to see you.” Red lips stretch across an exquisitely attractive face, touching a pair of eyes the cover of pale jade. “We missed you at the McKenna Fundraiser.”
I’m standing behind Parker and therefore can’t see his face. “Yeah, I hate that I missed it.” He turns around to hand me a file folder of materials that I’m pretty sure I don’t need, and I choose to believe it was an excuse for him to escape Blair’s hold on his arm.
When her eyes meet mine, her brows furrow a bit with confusion. I sat next to Parker throughout the duration of the meeting and this is apparently the first time she’s noticed me. Nonetheless, she flashes me a genuinely kind smile.
“Hello, I’m Blair Chapman.”
Parker puts a hand on my shoulder. “This is Mercy Chase, my new intern.” He turns to me and nods his head at Blair. “Lorelai and Blair went to school together.”
Blair turns her attention back to Parker, demurely tucking a lock of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. “I was actually hoping we could talk. Do you have a few minutes?”
He checks his watch. “Yeah, I’ve got some time. Let’s go to my office.”
For the next thirty-five minutes, I sit at my desk staring at Parker’s door, willing it to open. My mind invents a plethora of graphic visions of Parker and Blair having a mid-day lover’s tryst. I think of her sitting on his desk, of him standing between her legs just as he did mine only days ago, and an acute wave of jealousy his me like a cement truck.
Not knowing what else to do, I get to my feet and make a beeline for the break room. This is the first time I’ve been more than two feet away from Parker while in the office and for a minute, I think I might get lost. In the end though, I find it easily enough. Thankfully, it’s completely empty.
“You need to get it together,” I say to myself, leaning against the counter. Deciding a cup of coffee is just what I need, I start opening cabinets in my search for mugs. After about five minutes of searching, I find a stash in one of the lower cabinets by the fridge.
“Hi. Are you new?”
I turn around, mug clutched to my chest, and find a man in his 20’s giving me a curious smile. He’s tall and a little gangly with a head full of sandy brown curls. Realizing I’ve left four other cabinet doors wide open in my search for mugs, I laugh self-consciously.
“That obvious, huh?” I extend my hand. “Mercy Chase.”
“Tripp Riley.” His eyes run over me appreciatively as he releases my hand. “I work in PR. So, is this your first day?”
“Yep,” I say as I go around closing cabinet doors.
“You like it so far?”
“So far it’s great. Everyone’s really nice.”
“That’s good.” He pauses, chewing on his bottom lip.
It strikes me that just weeks ago I would have found him adorable. And he is really cute. He’s got these big brown eyes and boyishly handsome face. I’m sure he has no trouble earning attention from women.
But now, the only thing my brain registers is that he isn’t Parker. Great.
Not wanting Tripp to misinterpret whatever thoughts are showing on my face, I turn to face the coffee maker.
“Um… so, yeah. If you have any questions or want to know all the best lunch spots, you can come find me. Or hit me up on the office IM.”
“Thanks.” I finish filling my mug with coffee and then run my eyes along the empty counter. I turn back around to face him. “Actually, I do have a question for you— where’s the sweetener?”
“Oh, yeah someone usually puts it away after lunch but it’s just up on the shelf.” He points to the shelf directly behind my head. “Here, I’ll grab it for you.”
As he reaches around me, the clasp of the watch at his wrist gets stuck in my hair. “Oh, shit. I think I got caught— hang on.”
He wraps his other arm around my neck, reaching up to try and unclasp his watch. We're now standing face to face and he's got his arms wrapped around me. It's more than a little awkward. I push my pupils to the corner of my eyeball, trying to get a read on the severity of the situation. “How bad is it?”
“Not too bad. I’ve almost got it. There.” A minute later, he pulls his hand free and gives me a sheepish smile as he steps back. “Sorry about that.”
I waive a dismissive hand. “Don’t be—”
A throat clears across the room, freezing the words in my throat. Parker is standing in the doorway, the human personification of rage, his hands deep in his pocket, his nostrils flaring.
“Miss Chase.” His voice is so cold and devoid of familiarity, it makes me shiver. “If you’re about done socializing, do you think you could return to your desk?
CHAPTER 15
Parker
On Tuesday, Mercy wears her hair down again.
I always like looking at her, but I like looking at her best when all that lovely brown silk is flowing down past her shoulders. I always imagine what it would be like, to wrap that hair up in my hands, to feel it slipping between my fingers. Just the thought of it makes me a little crazy.
A text briefly snags my attention. It’s from my sister.
Lorelai Callahan: Did you know that Dad invited Blair to the Gala on Saturday?
I stifle a groan and clench my fist in my lap. When is my father going to give up on that asinine dream of his? I didn’t want to marry Blair when I was twenty-five, and I don’t want to marry her now. Blair is a great woman, and a fantastic lawyer, but it isn’t in the cards for us. We’re very different people and that’s never gonna change.
I turn off my phone and shove it in a drawer, both literally and metaphorically.
Mercy still hasn’t smiled at me. She’s barely even spoken to me and I don’t blame her
. After I found her in the break room with that skinny little twat from PR, I shut myself in my office and brooded for the remainder of the afternoon.
I owe her an apology, an explanation. But what could I say? That seeing her in another man’s arms felt like being shot square in the center of my chest? I can’t tell her that, even if it is the truth.
Also, I have to remind myself that Tripp Riley isn’t a twat. He’s a good kid and a hard worker. He sent me an email, apologizing for the incident in the break room and explaining the context of the situation I’d walked in on. He didn’t want Mercy to get in trouble.
Everything inside me feels foreign and I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the fact that I spent a full five minutes seriously considering the idea of having Tripp transferred to our office in Seattle.
Okay, I didn’t seriously consider it. But still. I can’t stand the fact that suddenly it’s like my whole life revolves around this girl. Just last night, I laid awake for hours trying to ignore the ache in my cock.
When I finally gave in, I imagined Mercy beneath me, her hair fanned out on my pillow, her sweet pink lips parting as she panted breaths, those sapphire eyes getting even bigger and rounder as I pushed deeper inside her. I came so hard I swear I almost blacked out, my hips thrusting up off the bed and into my hand.
Right now we’re in my office. She’s sitting in one of my visitor’s chairs, taking diligent notes while one of my board members sits in the other, railing on about something I couldn’t give two shits about.
My eyes are hungry for Mercy, they can’t get enough. Pulling them away from her for more than a few minutes at a time is impossible. Part of me wonders how much longer I’ll be able to fight this. There was a time I could count on my rational mind to keep me out of trouble. Rationality is no match for what I feel for Mercy. It’s not even close.
To be honest, I’m having a hard time remembering why I’m fighting it so hard in the first place.
Yes, she’s young. Way younger than what I would typically deem appropriate. And yet this whole time we’ve known each other, I’ve been waiting for her to act her age and she hasn’t. Not once. She carries herself with such flawless grace, such poise. Not to mention she’s absolutely fucking brilliant. I still can’t believe how quickly she’s picking things up here.
It makes me angry and horribly sad to think of how circumstance almost prevented her from living the life she deserves. How she’d almost been looked over, almost slipped through the cracks. But of course, that won’t happen. Not while I’m breathing.
There’s another reason, though, and it’s almost too real to ignore. If it gets out that we’re associated romantically, people will start digging. I don’t want her past being brought up and used against her.
But I covered the tracks that lead to Vivian Penngrove pretty well, didn’t I? And no one else other than my sister knows. Well, except Oliver. But he’s lost so many brain cells to drugs and alcohol, I doubt he even remembers that night.
“Parker?”
I look up. “Hmm?”
Wendell Pinkerton, the resident dinosaur taking up space on my board of directors, is looking at me expectantly. “What do you think?”
“I’ll have to give it some thought, Wendell,” I say with a thoughtful sigh, even though I have absolutely no idea what he’s been talking about for the past hour. We say goodbye and I show him out. When I return to my office, Mercy is sitting on the edge of my desk facing my chair. Her legs are crossed, causing her gray tweed skirt to ride up on her thighs.
I scrape my teeth over my bottom lip when I catch sight of the garter clip attached to the top of her black stockings. This girl is trying to kill me. Walking slowly around the desk, I don’t try to hide the fact that I’m staring at her legs as I sit down in my chair.
“You didn’t hear a word he said did you?” she says, appraising me through narrowed eyes.
I feign confusion. “What who said?”
The barest hint of a smile curves at her lips. “You’re shameless.”
I push my computer further back on my desk, clearing the way for me to grab her by the hips and slide her over until she’s sitting directly in front of me. “I don’t suppose you have an inkling as to what exactly it is I’m supposed to be considering?”
She arches a fine, coffee-colored brow. “Let’s suppose I do.”
“Don’t you think you should share that with me?” I curve a hand around one of her ankles. “Considering it’s your fault I was so distracted anyway.”
She snorts a laugh. “Typical man logic.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have introduced you to Lorelai,” I tease as I tug her to the edge of the desk until I’m sitting between her legs. “You look so perfect and pretty. How am I supposed to think about anything else when you’re in the room?”
Her chest shudders as her breath comes quicker, those gorgeous blue eyes clouding over with lust. “Isn’t this the exact thing we’re not supposed to be doing?”
Draping her hair over one shoulder, I press a featherlight kiss to her ear. “Says who?”
She gasps. “Says you?”
“Yeah, well I’m dumb. You shouldn’t listen to me.”
Just as I’m about to cover my mouth with hers, she puts one hand on my chest and shoves hard, causing my chair to roll back and hit the wall.
Mercy hops off my desk and straightens her clothes. “Pinkerton wants you to drop Pixit.”
I blink at her, a little dumbstruck, my chest heaving. “The Instagram wannabe app?”
“Yeah.” She gives me a heavy lidded look. “He says social media’s a fad. You shouldn’t tie up any of the company’s resources in it.”
She walks across the office, letting her hips swivel tauntingly. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”
* * * *
The game starts on Tuesday and continues all week long. She pushes and I push back and so on and so forth.
I’ve discovered that Mercy is insanely sensitive to being touched on her back. On Wednesday, we’re in an elevator pressed close together and I trail my finger lightly down her spine, relishing in delight when she shivers against me.
On Thursday, Mercy wears a white dress and it hits me like a punch in the throat. Though it’s not at all similar to the one she wore the first night we met, it brings the memory of the first moment I saw her, rushing through my mind like a freight train.
Sapphire blues shimmering in the firelight. The smell of vanilla and lavender. The quiet strength that’s drawn me to her every moment since.
I’m like an addict, living for my next fix. On Friday, I have my weekly phone call with my mother. I try to listen to what she says, but all I can think of is the girl on the other side of that door.
“Will you and Blair be riding to the Gala together on Saturday?” Mom asks, catching me off-guard.
I frown. “What? No.”
“Well I just thought—”
Suddenly, I hear a man’s laugh drifting through the door from the outer office. From Mercy’s office. Without hesitation, I get to my feet.
“Mom, I gotta go.”
“But—”
I hang up on my mother, something I’ve never done before in my life. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I march for the door and fling it open.
Tripp-freaking-Riley is leaning over Mercy’s shoulder, his hand on the mouse as he clicks away at her computer. “… Easy to use once you get the hang of it.”
I take a deep breath before I speak. “You lost Mr. Riley?”
He straightens up and spins around, his throat working as he swallows. “Oh, uh, no Mr. Callahan, I was just helping Mercy with—”
“Miss Chase doesn’t need your help. Go back to your own office.”
He scurries away and I instantly feel like a dick. I shouldn’t have done that. What is wrong with me? At this rate, I’m going to need to give the poor kid a raise.
When I look down at Mercy, she’s leaned back in her chair, wearing this modest black dress that still
manages to hug her curves indecently. The satisfied smirk on her pretty pink mouth sends me over the edge.
Leaning forward, I brace myself on the back of her chair. “You like it don’t you?” I run my nose down the length of hers. “The power you have over me.”
She squirms a little in her seat, not taking her eyes off mine as she bites her lip. “What are you talking about?”
I groan and sink to my knees. “What is it you want, sweet girl? You want me to ask nicely? You want me to beg? Fine. You win.”
A shit-eating grin flashes across her face. “I—”
Her desk phone rings and I drop my head in her lap.
“Parker Callahan’s office, Mercy Chase speaking.”
I’m sliding my hands slowly up the side of her thighs, when I feel her body tense up.
“Sister Catherine… hi.”
Looking up, I find her frowning, looking more than a little concerned. I rise to my feet and perch on the edge of her desk, watching every little nuance pass over her face. Suddenly, she goes completely still.
“What?” She listens for a long moment, her expression a mix of anger and fear. My heart practically falls out of my chest. “What the hell does that mean?”
A few minutes later, she hangs up and rushes to her feet. “I have to go.”
I catch her by the arm. “Hey, woah. Talk to me. What’s going on?”
She shakes her head. “That was the school. Something about Jason being in a fight… and, I just— I have to get down there.”
I tighten my arms around her when she tries to move. “Take a breath, okay?” After she does, I press a kiss to her forehead. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”
Reluctantly I let her go and grab both of our coats from the rack by the door. After I help her into hers, I slip into mine.
Mercy looks at me, confused. “What are you doing?”
“What’s it look like?” I put a hand on the small of her back. “I’m going with you.”