Whatever He Wants: An Office Romance

by Gabbi Wright

  “Huh,” Dina huffed, but she looked impressed. “That wasn’t too bad of an idea. See? A couple of drinks and that sharp brain of yours kicks in. I never doubted you at all.”

  “Do you think he liked it?”

  Dina glanced over her shoulder. “I think so. He’s still staring at you. Don’t look, dummy! Just keep walking back to your seat, all casual-like.”

  “So, he did like it?”

  “I think so. It was better than a bath bomb, right?”

  “I hope. I need a victory drink.”

  The two made their way to the bar. As they sipped another marguerita, Dina asked, “What did you say that note said?”

  Brooke smiled proudly. “That I’ll do anything he wants me to, for one day.”

  “And the part about bringing him coffee?”

  Brooke shrugged. “Oh, I didn’t put any of that in the note. That’s just some ideas I thought of.”

  “Nothing about being his gopher?”

  “Gopher?”

  “As in gopher this, gopher that?”

  “Isn’t that implied by doing anything?”

  Dina’s mouth hung open and she sat her drink down. “Your note just said anything he wants?”

  “Yes, duh!”

  “How do you think he took that? Why do you think he’s still staring at you?”

  This time Brooke did turn back and look. And yes, Anthony was still shooting confused glances at her.

  “Oh, Fuck me.”

  CHAPTER 6 - BROOKE

  “I’ve got to get out of here,” Brooke stammered, “I’m such an idiot. I want to go home.”

  She felt suddenly too clammy and sweaty. The room was too warm.

  “If you must,” Dina replied, and that’s when Brooke realized that Dina no longer had her back. The alcohol had hit her, and in a good way, and only then did Brooke realize that Dina had been making eyes at Gary, one of their coworkers.

  Gary was okay, Brooke guessed, not anyone she would have been interested in, and she thought that applied to Dina too, except now Dina had on her booze goggles, which tended to make the drabbest of men look a little bit better, and everyone knew he liked Dina.

  Her white elephant gift had indeed been a new Christmas mug, this year’s featuring a goofy looking reindeer. Neither her nor Dina won the vacation.

  And Brooke did not go home. She sat alone, dejectedly, watching as her friend stood up and went over to make conversation with drab Gary. Not five minutes later, Dina had slipped away, presumably to the supply closet, to make out.

  Or something else.

  Others sat with her, and she politely made conversation, though unable to diminish the heat she felt in her cheeks. They only asked her once what she’d given her boss, and she refrained from the truth. “Just something I thought up,” she replied.

  But oh, how she wanted to cry. The humiliation was nearly unbearable. She could just get up and slip out. Nobody would blame her. She could lie and blame it on PMS, maybe?

  Fifteen minutes later, Dina returned from the supply closet. Gary went one way, she went the other, toward Brooke, straightening her clothes.

  “Sorry about that,” Dina replied, grinning from ear to ear, “Just needed to hit the powder room.”

  “Your lipstick’s smeared.”

  “Oh?”

  “You didn’t notice in the powder room?”

  Dina giggled. “Help me fix it,” she said, grabbing a napkin.

  As Brooke helped Dina hide the evidence of her tryst, she couldn’t help but wonder what Anthony would do with the note.

  “Obviously he won’t do anything with it, will he?” She asked out loud.

  “What?”

  “Anthony. Surely, he’ll throw it away. God, what a horrible gift.”

  “Or,” Dina said, “You’ll get a call this weekend, and make you take care of every itch. What if he’s a pervert?”

  “He’s not.”

  “How do you know?” Dina continued, “Aren’t’ all rich guys perverts? Like in that book – maybe he’s got a sex dungeon.”

  “Do you think?” Brooke chewed her bottom lip. She’d never seen a sex dungeon before.

  “I wonder if Gary has a sex dungeon?” Dina mused.

  “Is Gary rich?”

  Dina sighed. “No. A girl can hope though, right?”

  “Sure.” But Brooke didn’t really want to think about sex dungeons. That wasn’t really her scene – with her luck she’d end up giggling at something he thought was erotic and kill the mood.

  “But seriously,” she wondered, “What if Anthony does call? What do I do? Should I even go through with it?”

  “You have to,” Dina drunkenly giggled, “You put it in writing. That’s a legal contract.”

  “I don’t think that’s true. He’ll probably fire me, though. For ruining his non-Christmas Holiday party. I should have gone with the bath bomb.”

  She couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him. She couldn’t deny that she’d had fantasies of those strong hands, of that chiseled body, those lips…

  It would be worse if he did just blow her off.

  Or was it?

  She’d long decided not to date any omni or carnivores, anyway.

  The alcohol was preventing her from thinking straight, surely, and this party went on too long.

  CHAPTER 7 – ANTHONY

  Anthony reclined in his chair, with the television on for background noise. The news went on about world events. Normally he might listen, but he still had a bit of a buzz and his mind was on other things.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded note.

  What an interesting party.

  He reread it, admiring her cute and perfect handwriting.

  Anything I want. Why would she write that?

  Was it a joke he wasn’t getting?

  He was used to women hitting on and throwing themselves at him, but he’d put off any hook-ups since Sheryl, losing himself in his work.

  Was it time to start dating again?

  No, not a girl from work.

  But still… he mulled over the offer, and even when he went to bed, he found it difficult to sleep.

  Brooke. Such a curious girl. So odd. The way she’d stared at him, he’d never taken it for a crush. But now, suddenly, realizing she had feelings for him, made him warm up to her even more. Yes, he found her attractive, even if a little awkward, but she’d always been off limits, due to his own rules.

  Was he ready to break them?

  No, he’d been thinking about firing her.

  He had the weekend to himself, and then it was off to Hawaii for a much-needed two-week vacation – A vacation away from Brooke and his thoughts that continuously returned to that damn note.

  Anything I want.

  That left a lot of room for interpretation.

  And there was her number, at the bottom, taunting him.

  He had a second ticket. And maybe his Sheryl wasn’t going to call him back in time, like part of him still half-heartedly hoped. It would be wasted money.

  But the note said for one day, would she be willing to waste two weeks with him in Hawaii?

  Or maybe, what if I just go by myself, maybe meet somebody there, have a fling, like Mike suggested? It just might do me good.

  When he fell asleep, he found himself dreaming of an untouchable woman across the room, with big blue eyes and full lips. And he dreamt of brushing his fingers through her blond hair as he nuzzled his forehead against hers...

  He dreamt of his hands on those curves, pulling her body pressing against his…

  Anthony woke up, finding himself covered in sweat and his cock hard.

  He glanced at the clock, finding it only three in the morning.

  Surely, this wasn’t what she had meant. Yet suddenly it felt like that was all she could have meant, boldly propositioning him, like no girl he’d ever met before.

  He had to admit, that was surprisingly hot.

  Yes, the idea of such a
strong forward woman turned him on. He never would have imagined that timid, daydreaming Brooke had it in her. He lusted after her in a way he hadn’t lusted after anyone since High School when he’d crushed so hard on one of the cheerleaders.

  Fuck it, he decided, I’m going to call her.

  But he didn’t call, not right away.

  He waited a day, just so she wouldn’t think he was desperate. But the note had promised a full day, and he wanted to have a full day. He wanted time to talk to her, to get to know her. If things progressed, like the note promised, then maybe just maybe, it let things go where they wanted to go. He might break a couple of rules.

  That note made her the only thing he could think about.

  So, Sunday morning, he would call her.

  CHAPTER 8 – BROOKE

  Brooke had spent all of Saturday feeling inconsolable and dejected, and early Sunday morning, her sister Emily returned from her ski trip, stopping by to check on their parents like she often did, and to hang with Brooke and talk about movies and friends and their jobs.

  Though she’d considered keeping the note a secret, after all, it was humiliating even to think about, she broke down had confessed about the gift. She needed to get it off her chest, and maybe have somebody talk her through it, and tell her that she wasn’t the idiot she felt like.

  Unfortunately, her sister was not that person.

  “You’re an idiot,” Emily declared, “You’re always such an idiot!”

  “Thank you, sis, that’s what I need to hear.”

  Emily was her younger sister, by three years. She was twenty, but Emily apparently had a better head on her shoulders than Brooke. She attended BSU and determined not to let any boys ruin her future.

  Brooke had attended college for two semesters before dropping out, when she had taken the job. She had considered juggling both a job and school, but didn’t have the inclination for both, and she really liked getting paychecks. Besides, the cost-of-living was skyrocketing, Boise being one of the fastest growing cities in the United States.

  “Has he called you?” Emily asked.

  “No.”

  “Thank god! Can you imagine if he had? This isn’t how you date, Brooke. If mom and dad heard you were forward like that… Do you even still have a job?”

  “I assume so. I don’t think they fire people for what happens at parties. I mean, it’s their fault that there were drinks, right?”

  “So, you did it drunk?”

  “Does that make me worse?”

  “Not really. It’s bad any way you look at it.”

  That was Emily, always the voice of reason. She looked more like their mother than Brooke did, with curly brown hair, a trait Brooke was immeasurably jealous of, even though she tried to hide it. Their mother was so pretty, and Emily had gotten all the beauty.

  Brooke got up and went to the freezer, getting out a pint of dairy free chocolate ice cream. She wasn’t sure if it had the same satisfying punch of regular ice cream, but she hoped so. That’s what women did when they felt horrible, right?

  She offered some to Emily, but her sister declined.

  “It’s not even eight in the morning,” Emily shook her head in mock disgust as Brooke took a bite, “And you’re already eating ice cream?”

  “Yes, because I’m a grown-ass woman who can do whatever she wants,” Brooke replied around the non-dairy deliciousness, “Free to make one idiotic mistake after another.”

  “you should be working out instead of indulging. You’ll go back to work twenty-five pounds heavier.”

  “Don’t tell me how to live my life…”

  Emily raised a finger in the air, ready to launch into one of her wise younger sister lectures.

  Brooke’s cell phone rang, saving her from Emily’s doom and gloom.

  “Hold that thought,” she said, setting down the ice cream and picking up the phone.

  She couldn’t bring herself to answer it.

  “Who’s calling you this early on a Sunday?”

  “its… it’s… him!” Brooke stammered. She held the phone up as though Emily needed visual proof.

  “Don’t answer it!”

  “I have to! It’s my boss!”

  Emily reached for the phone, but Brooke turned her back and darted down the hallway, her sister right on her heels. She swiped to answer the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Brooke?”

  Yep, definitely him. Her stomach chose this moment to start doing flipflops, but she was committed.

  “Hi,” she replied, “Good morning.”

  Emily froze, leaning forward to hear their conversation. Brooke went to her room to get away, but her sister followed, refusing to be shut out.

  Fortunately, Anthony had no clue a third party listened in.

  “Umm, everything okay? You sound a little breathless.”

  “Oh yeah, sorry, I was, umm… working out. It’s what I do.”

  “Oh, hey, that’s great. I was wondering if you would like to hang out today. That is, if you don’t have any plans. After the note last night, I thought maybe I’d take you up on it. I don’t really have a lot going on today, and I’m leaving on a trip tomorrow.”

  “I… I guess that’s what I committed to, isn’t it?”

  She could almost see his shrug through the phone, in the sound of his voice. “Yeah, but still, if you aren’t interested, I’ll understand…”

  “No!” she replied hurriedly, “I mean, no, that’s exactly what I meant. Let’s hang out.”

  “Great! Text me your address and I’ll come by and pick you up.”

  “Uh, could we just meet somewhere?”

  Anthony laughed and she realized that she might be in trouble. “Your note said you have to do what I want, right? I’ll come pick you up.”

  “Okay,” she said sheepishly, see you soon.”

  “Thirty minutes. We’re going to get breakfast. Hope you haven’t eaten.”

  She hung up and stared at the phone. There was nothing to do but send him her location.

  “You’re not going through with it, are you?” Emily asked. She had her hands on her hips, and her mouth hung open in obvious shock.

  “I have to.”

  “No, you don’t. Call him back He’s just going to take advantage of you.”

  “Maybe? But I signed the note. What if it’s a legally binding contract?”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “Whatever. I’ve got thirty minutes to get ready. What should I wear?”

  “Grannie panties. And let me do your make-up. I’ve got a few tricks I’ve picked up that’ll encourage him to keep his hands to himself.”

  Brooke pictured herself standing in front of her boss dressed down to the largest and ugliest undies she owned. That wasn’t going to happen, even if she didn’t want things to progress that far, she wasn’t going to have that sully the experience. “Never mind, I got this.”

  Emily pursed her lips and then huffed. “Very well. I’ll help, but we’re not going too sexy. We’re not going to encourage him to abuse his power. Good heavens, what were you thinking? You’re supposed to be older and wiser than me. I’m afraid to look up to you.”

  “Yeah, but think of the stories I’ll be able to tell.”

  “If anything, I’ll learn from your mistakes.”

  Thirty minutes was not long enough. This had not been a motivated morning, and she hadn’t even bothered showering. Somehow, she managed to speed through cleaning up and making herself half-way presentable with minutes to spare.

  Thankfully, with it being winter, dressing too sexy was not really a high-risk option. The weather app on her phone promised rain and snow, pretty much what it had been all week.

  As her phone vibrated to announce his arrival, she stared at herself in the mirror. Even with Emily’s help, she looked at least a little presentable. Emily had insisted on her wearing a sweater, which added ten pounds to her appearance. “It’s going to be cold.”

  “Not at
his house.”

  Emily’s sternness faded and she said, “Keep in touch. If you need me, for anything, I’ll come kick down his door. This isn’t exactly normal.”

  “I know, I’ haven’t dated for years.”

  “Not you, the type of date. I just don’t want you hurt.”

  Brooke yanked Emily into a tight hug. “Thank you for everything. I love you. I promise I’ll be careful. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen, when you tell a guy you’ll do anything he wants on the first date, right?”

  Emily’s scowl returned.

  As they left her room, she saw that their mother and father stood in the living room, staring out the window.

  “Emily,” her father said, “I think somebody’s here to see you.”

  Her mother spoke over the top of him. “Brooke, your ice cream’s melting all over the counter.”

  “He’s here for me,” Brooke corrected her father, “I have a… date. Sorry about the ice cream, I meant to finish it.”

  “What?” her father replied, “My Brooke? I should go meet him…”

  “No daddy, maybe later. Gotta go, love you guys.”

  As she dashed out the door, she could hear her mother quizzing her sister. “When did Brooke meet a guy?”

  Brooke hurried over to Anthony’s car. He had exited, walking around to open the passenger door for her, and stared back at the house, waving to her family.

  “Your family?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she replied, hopping in.

  Were her cheeks already red? Did he judge her for being a twenty-three-year-old woman still living at home with her parents? She decided not to bring it up. She didn’t want to begin her date trying to explain that. How immature must she seem already, after such a goofy white elephant present?

  He climbed behind the wheel and smiled. He didn’t pull away from the curb immediately. “Listen, I’m not going to make this weird. I just thought it would be nice to have some company today. Like I said, I’m leaving tomorrow on a trip, and frankly, I haven’t really had time to just relax and hang out with somebody. So, like I said, no pressure. Let’s just have fun today.”