Marissa & Mr. White: (Sexy Contemporary Romance)

by Allen, Yolanda

  Saturday...

  I wake up to the sound of cabinets slamming and dishes clanking together. The aroma of blueberry pancakes fills the air. Mmm, my favorite. My lips spread into a smile as I stretch my body. I grab my terrycloth robe from the back of my chair where I’d left it last night after I showered. I wrap it around my naked body. I need to do laundry. All my pjs are dirty. I slip my feet into my house shoes then head downstairs. I shuffle my feet across the carpeted floors through the living room into the kitchen.

  Bianca stands with her back to me pouring pancake batter onto the griddle. "Good morning, Chef Bianca," I say as I open the door to the fridge.

  "Good morning, girl. I figured I would come by and make you breakfast since I know that you were going to have a long night last night."

  I suck my teeth at her statement. She and I both know that she came over here to be nosy. She wants the scoop on my "date" with my boss. I pour orange juice into one of the two glasses sitting on the counter then take a seat at the kitchen table. "I'm glad you decided to come over because I woke up hungry."

  She puts a stack of pancakes onto two plates then walks over to the table.

  I get up and grab the butter and maple syrup from the fridge then take my seat. I inhaled the comforting scent of the blueberry pancakes. "You remember my mom used to make these for us every Saturday morning?"

  "I do remember. I always looked forward to Saturdays." Bianca smiles wide as she drowns her pancakes in maple syrup.

  An overwhelming sense of nostalgia takes over me, and my eyes well up with tears. I dab at them with the end of my bathrobe belt. "Sorry." I shake my head and clear my throat. "Memories." I smile at Bianca. "Thanks again."

  "No biggie. I had to eat too." She stuffs a forkful into her mouth. "Mmm. Heaven," she muffles.

  I laugh then take a bite. The flavor of the butter, blueberries and syrup flood my mouth. I close my eyes as my taste buds dance with delight. "So good."

  "So how was the date?" She wiggles her eyebrows.

  I roll my eyes. "I basically sat there with Mr. White and this Hugh Hefner wannabe and his too young girlfriend and pretended to be interested in what they had to say. Every so often the older man, Mr. Glenworth, would ask for my input. The girl...Heidi...kept flirting with my boss and Mr. Glenworth kept flirting with me. And I think my boss was flirting with Heidi." I roll my eyes again.

  "You seem disappointed that it wasn't you that he was flirting with."

  My shoulders rise and fall as I sop up a little syrup with a piece of my pancake. "I hate to admit this because I could never act on it but I'm extremely turned on by my boss. Just having him close to me is disturbing. Every slight touch from him sends my body into overdrive. I was so intoxicated with sexual energy that I thought that he was actually making a pass at me when he wasn't." I shake my head at the thought.

  "What do you mean? What happened?" Bianca asks wide-eyed.

  "He walked me to my door last night, and I thought that he was going to kiss me so..." I cover my face with my hands. "Let's just say...he's definitely not into me."

  "You tried to kiss him and he rejected you?"

  "No...I just wanted it to happen so bad that I misread the signs. I mean I don't think he knew that I was waiting for a kiss. At least I hope not."

  "So if you were on a deserted island, which man would you prefer being stranded with, your boss or the guy at Masquerade?"

  “Hands down, my boss."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. But only because I actually know who my boss is. I don't know anything about the guy at Masquerade except for the fact that he's amazing with his hands."

  We both laugh.

  “I just wish I knew more about the Masquerade man. At least his name.”

  Bianca rises from the table and gather our empty plates. "Don't get your emotions involved, Rissa. It's just sex for these men and it needs to be just sex for you."

  "Wanting to know someone's name or what they actually look like is not getting my emotions involved. I'm just curious."

  "And we all know that curiosity killed the cat."

  I laugh.

  Bianca walks back over to the table. "I'm serious. Don't try to find out who he is or find out more information about him. You may end up finding out something that you don't want to know." She turns her glass of orange juice up to her mouth.

  "Yeah, like he's married with kids."

  She shrugs. "Just keep things the way that they are."

  "I guess you're right."

  "I'm always right. Now...I need to get going. I have a hair appointment." She stands over me with her arms outstretched waiting for a hug.

  "But what about the dishes?"

  "I cook. You clean."

  I suck my teeth then rise from my seat and give her a hug goodbye. I survey the mess Bianca created cooking breakfast. Well more like brunch since it's already one in the afternoon. I rub my hand over my full belly. I'll shower first then clean. I don't have any plans for today other than just relaxing. After I shower I lay on the bed with the intent of just resting my eyes for a moment before going downstairs to clean up the kitchen.

  What seems like only moments after I close my eyes, my ringing phone disturbs my rest. I let out a huge sigh then reach over to my nightstand and pick up my phone. It's not ringing. My brows pull together in confusion. Oh snap! My work phone. I jump out of bed and grab the phone out of my purse. "Hello?"

  "Miss Riley?"

  "Mr. White, hi." He's calling on a Saturday? "How can I help you?"

  "I need you to do me a favor. I have a business meeting. It's a last minute deal. He is looking to host a launch party for his new modeling agency and I told him that I would like to help him out. He just happens to be in Atlanta this weekend and today is the only day he has for a face to face. I’m scheduled to meet with him at four o'clock this afternoon, however, due to a prior engagement I'm now stuck in horrendous traffic and I will be late for the meeting about fifteen minutes. The place isn't far from where you live so I need you to do me a favor."

  "Do you a favor?"

  "Yes, I don't want to give this potential client a bad impression by being late so I need you to go as my representative until I get there. I should be there at least by four-fifteen. I like to meet all my clients face to face before taking on new business so all you have to do is meet with him to keep him company until I arrive."

  "Keep him company?"

  "Yes."

  "Umm..."

  "Miss Riley, can you do it?"

  How can I say no? "Sure. What time is it now?"

  "It's three-thirty."

  "Three-thirty?" My voice goes up a few notches. "I'm not even dressed."

  "I guess you better get off the phone then, Miss Riley. See you soon and thanks. I'll text you the address." Click.

  Wow.

  I enter the hotel's bar. According to Mr. White's text the guy I'm looking for will be wearing a red button down shirt and he has dark hair. There aren’t a lot of people in here so it's not hard to spot him sitting at the bar sipping on some brown liquid in a glass. I walk up to him. "Are you Mr. Upton?"

  He pause mid-drink and acknowledges me. "Who's looking for him?"

  I extend my hand. "I'm Marissa Riley, Mr. White's assistant."

  "Well, well. Aren't you a pretty little thing?" He stands then shakes my hand. His wanting gaze rakes over my body. "Have a seat." He pulls a bar stool out for me.

  "Thanks." I take a seat. "Mr. White is running a little late, so he wanted me to keep you company until he gets here."

  He scoots his bar stool closer to me. So close our knees touch. I think to move over but I don’t want to seem rude. He finishes his drink in one gulp then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "You can keep me company anytime." A grin creeps across his face. "Would you like a drink?" Before I can answer he calls the bartender over. "I would like another rum and coke and she'll have..."

  Both he and the bartender eye me. "Cranberry juice, please."r />
  "Cranberry and vodka?" Mr. Upton asks.

  "No, just cranberry juice. I don't drink alcohol."

  "Boo, that's no fun."

  I shrug.

  "Okay give her, her boring cranberry juice," he tells the bartender.

  "So what type of event are you having, Mr. Upton?"

  "Call me Ted, pretty lady." He smiles.

  I return the gesture. "Okay, Ted."

  The bartender sits a rum and coke in front of Ted and a martini glass filled with cranberry juice in front of me. "Thanks." I take a sip of my juice while Ted drains half the contents in his glass.

  He looks over to me. "I own a modeling agency and I'm opening a new location here in Atlanta. I want to have a launch party."

  "I think that Trentini & White is the best company to assist you in planning that event."

  "You know, you should think about coming to work for me." He trails a cold finger along my arm.

  "Oh, thanks but I'm very happy with my job. I love working for Mr. White. So is this a private event?"

  He slams his empty glass on the table then leans into me. "How about we take this upstairs to my hotel room where we can have our own private event."

  I push him back a little. "That's not a good idea, Mr. Upton. We are here to discuss business."

  He stands. "Actually I came here to talk business with Mr. White." He runs his finger across the back of my neck.

  I push his hand away. "Mr. Upton, please don't touch me like that."

  He places both hands on my shoulders then presses his damp lips against the back of my neck.

  "Hey! What the hell are you doing, man?" Mr. Upton screams out.

  I turn my head just in time to find Mr. White grabbing Ted by his arm and bending it behind his back.

  I jump from my seat. "Mr. White! It's okay." My heart races.

  "You like touching women against their will? Huh, punk?" Mr. White pushes Ted's face down until he’s cheek to cheek with the bar top. His face turns red with the weight of Mr. White's hand.

  "Let me go, man. I wasn't touching her against her will."

  "Oh so now you're lying to me." He bends Ted's arm even more. "It looked to me like she didn’t want your hands on her, pal."

  "Mr. White, please let's just go.” I place my hand on his shoulder. “Please, Mr. White." He doesn't acknowledge me.

  "Did she not push your hand away?”

  “Mr. White, you’re hurting him.”

  “Did she not push your hand away?” He crushes Ted’s face into the bar top again. Ted screams in pain.

  "Austin, stop!" Mr. White cut his eyes to me. I wasn’t sure those words had in fact come from my mouth. I’ve never raised my voice that high before. I take my hand from his shoulder. "Let's go,” I plead.

  If I Had It My Way

  Mr. White finally releases Ted’s arm. All eyes are focused in our direction. Not one person dared to come to Ted's rescue. Mr. White steps back. His chest heaves up and down. Ted sits on the bar stool massaging his arm with his head down. My boss gives him a final look of warning before grabbing me by the hand. I snatch my purse from the bar just as he's pulling me away. I'm practically running to keep up with his quick, long strides. We storm out of the hotel and straight into the parking lot.

  He releases my hand once we are near his car. “Get in.”

  I stare at him as he makes his way to the driver’s side. I can’t speak. I can barely breathe. I’ve never been in a fight nor have I been so close to one before. I open the car door and take my place in the passenger’s seat. I don’t close the door. Mr. White drops heavily into the driver’s seat. He tears his tie from around his neck then bangs the steering wheel a few times with his fist.

  I want to console him but I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to calm a man down before. What do you say to someone that wants to rip a guy’s arm off for touching you inappropriately?

  A low grunt interrupts my thoughts. “What?”

  Mr. White looks over at me. His eyes darkened with anger. “I’m sorry for losing my temper in front of you like that.”

  “It’s okay. I totally understand why you did that. Thank you for stepping in.”

  “Do you need me to take you home?”

  I shake my head. “I drove.” I pause for a moment. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  I give a small smile. “Okay.” I turn to get out of the car but Mr. White catches my arm. I look down at his hand. He slowly caresses my skin with his thumb. Tingles instantly run the length of my body. I know I shouldn’t be turned on by him at this very moment. I know that my panties should not be wet right now. But I am and they are. I find the courage to look into his eyes. Calmness has replaced the anger that was there just moments ago.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “Yes, Mr. White, I’m fine.”

  His gaze roams over my face as if searching for assurance that I’m telling the truth. He slowly takes his hand away.

  “See you on Monday,” I say then exit the car.

  Monday…

  My boss has been flooding my thoughts all day yesterday and all night. The way he put Ted in his place frightened me and turned me on all at the same time. I didn’t tell Bianca what happened when we talked yesterday. For some reason I just want to keep this between my boss and I. I can’t look too deep into his actions. I’m sure he would’ve done that for any girl that he thought was being harassed by a drunken jerkoff like Ted. I’m just glad that he was there to protect me.

  I step off the elevators at eleven o’clock. Mr. White emailed me yesterday afternoon and told me that I could come in late today. His way of apologizing for the events that took place at the hotel bar. I say hello to Josie and Denise before heading to my cubicle. Mr. White is sitting in his office. I put my belongings down at my desk and turn on my computer. I need to let my little girl fantasies about my boss go. But the way that he’d caressed my arm yesterday. And the way that he’d looked at me. I admit I was extremely turned on and could have imagined the lust in his eyes. My desire to be wanted by him could have clouded my judgment of his actions. Maybe it wasn’t a passionate caress but more of a soothing caress. Like a grown up would give a child when they are scared or hurt. Does it matter one way or the other? He’s my boss. He signs my paychecks. He’s off-limits.

  I walk to Mr. White’s office. He’s sitting at his desk reading over a file. Could I really have anything more than just a working relationship with a man like that? Is it possible to have a romantic relationship with someone that you work with? Especially if he’s your boss? Mr. White runs his fingers through his hair. A tiny shiver rolls up my spine. If I had it my way, it would be him that’s giving me mind-blowing orgasms not some stranger at a club. I shake my head. There is something about this man that makes me crave him. Unfortunately, he’s untouchable.

  I knock on the door. “Mr. White?”

  He looks up at me. “Miss Riley, good morning.” A pleased grin spreads across his face.

  “Good morning, sir. I wanted to see if you needed for me to get you some coffee.”

  “I’ve had some already. But I do need for you to do something else for me before you get too busy with work.”

  “Sure.”

  He motions for me to come closer. “I need to get a present for someone.” He takes out his wallet then hands me a credit card.

  It’s his personal credit card. “What type of present do you need, sir?”

  “I need a nice dress.”

  A dress?

  “There’s this shop called Ulna’s Boutique. It’s about three blocks from here. Are you familiar with it?”

  I’ve passed by that store countless times since I’ve worked for Trentini & White but never got passed the window front. I don’t like torturing myself by going into stores to browse around knowing I can’t afford anything in the there. Not even a wallet. “Yes, I’m familiar with Ulna’s.”

  “Good. I need a nice black or white cocktail dress. She’s
about your size. So try it on. I trust your judgment when it comes to style. Why don’t you do that for me now?”

  “Okay. What’s your price range?”

  “Don’t worry about the cost. I just want the best that they have.”

  Wow. This woman must be extremely special. Although I’ve never heard him mention a girlfriend. Not that we’ve had many personal conversations. Why wouldn’t he have a girlfriend? Besides, if he was interested in me I doubt he would send me dress shopping for someone else unless he made it crystal clear that the person being shopped for was a relative or close friend. All I got was, she’s about your size. Now I’m even more convinced that yesterday meant nothing more than a nice guy coming to the rescue of a good girl being mistreated by a scumbag.

  The door chimes as I enter Ulna’s Boutique. Everything is so tidy and elegant looking. Ulna’s is definitely not a place to spend your time when you’re living from paycheck to paycheck like I am. Mmm. It even smells expensive.

  “How can I help you, Madam?” A slim gentleman with dark curls and a French accent steps from behind the counter.

  “Hi, I’m looking for a nice cocktail dress, size 2, in black or white.”

  “Certainly. I can pull a few pieces for you.”

  I follow behind him as he sashays over to a rack of dresses. He pulls a few pieces for me but they aren’t my style. I laugh to myself. As if I have a real style.

  “Can I see that one?” I point at the black and white strapless dress.

  “Ahh, yes this is a beauty. You will definitely make a true statement with this dress. It’s a drama piece.” He puts the dress up to my body. “I just adore the way you have this crisp white circle here that’s flawlessly place on this black fabric. It’s modern and chic.”

  I look down at the dress. My fingers outline the black rose belt. “This is gorgeous. Can I try it on?”

  The gentleman leads me to the fitting room. I tear my clothes off then carefully slip into the beautiful dress. One bonus off the rip is the side zipper. I always struggle with dresses that have the zipper in the back. I’m sure whoever this girl is will appreciate that small detail as well.