by London Casey
Right on cue, a few snowflakes began to fall from the sky.
It almost felt like it was all staged.
The SUV came to a slow stop and my eyes were glued to the front of the cabin.
The steps. The pillars. The porch. The dark brown front door. It was so…
“What do you think?” Cole asked.
I had no words.
I just gasped one more time.
Chapter Ten
Cole
I had to hand it to Mr. Pickle.
The cabin was beautiful.
It definitely was not the whole idea of being in a rustic cabin without running water and electricity. This was a mini hotel on the top of a mountain.
Through the main entrance, the floor plan was wide open, all the way to the back of the cabin. That’s where a large, arched window gave a view to the other side of the mountain.
Of course, that’s right where Maya went.
A bag over her shoulder. Her other suitcase with the missing wheel kind of just bouncing along until she dropped it for good.
The cabin smelled very clean with a touch of wood.
To my left was the kitchen and dining area.
The word area was the only word for it because of its size. This wasn’t some tiny, little kitchen. It was a country style kitchen with stainless steel appliances. The fridge had a screen on it that not only welcomed me, but had a full inventory of what was in the fridge, along with the capability of watching TV and movies.
I laughed at some of the technologies we had now.
A fridge that could tell me if I had tomatoes and if it was going to rain.
What a time to be alive.
I heard a noise in the dining room and looked to see Maya slowly walking, still gawking outside the window.
The table could seat eight.
The ceiling came to a small pitch with wooden beams to give it that rustic look that really didn’t exist here.
“Never been in a cabin before?” I asked.
Maya shook her head. “This isn’t a cabin, Cole. This is a mansion.”
“Far from a mansion, Maya. But I get what you’re saying.”
She looked at me. “Tell me you’re not impressed by this.”
“I am,” I said. “I’ll admit it. Why don’t we check out the upstairs?”
“Is that where the bedrooms are? With the dormers?”
“I think the upstairs is more of a loft area. The main bedrooms are on the first floor off the living room area.”
I walked from the kitchen and went right for Maya’s bag.
I grinned and picked it up.
“Cole…”
“I’ll get this for you,” I said. “We can check out the upstairs in a little bit. Follow me.”
I walked to the living room area.
To my surprise, it was smaller than I expected.
Smaller only meant cozy.
And smaller still was able to have three couches, two recliners, a bar that was fully stocked, and a stone fireplace that was made to look a little bit ugly, but it fit the vibe of the place.
The fireplace was big enough that Maya could have climbed into it and had room to wiggle around.
I passed by the mantle, to my left, where a door waited.
There was a small hallway with three doors.
“There’s a bedroom, a bathroom, and a bedroom,” I said to Maya. “The bathroom is shared. We better figure out a signal so we don’t walk in on each other. Right?”
I looked back at her and winked.
“I can carry my own bag,” she said.
“What kind of boss would I be if I allowed you to do that?”
“The exact kind you are,” she said without hesitation.
I kept walking.
Even if that comment did sting a tiny bit.
I tossed Maya’s suitcase to the master bed and reached for the zipper.
“Cole,” she said as she dove at the bed.
She knew she couldn’t move my hand, so she did a quick turn and jump, plopping her ass right on the suitcase.
“I know what’s in there,” I said. “I just wanted to see again.”
“No,” she said. “You’re…”
She clenched her jaw.
“You want to call me a dickhead,” I said. “But you can’t because you’re getting paid. Think about that, Maya. Think about how much you’re going to make just being here. You have this amazing cabin. The fireplace. The windows and the view. Look at this bedroom…”
“This is your bedroom,” she said.
“Is it?”
“It’s the master bedroom, Cole. Are you going to let me sleep here?”
“True,” I said. “Let’s get this suitcase into the right room.”
I grabbed the handle and tugged.
Maya had two choices. Jump off or fall back onto the bed.
She jumped off and the suitcase was mine again.
I purposely walked through the shared bathroom, noting its size, then went into the second bedroom.
It wasn’t as big as the master, but it was still a good-sized bedroom.
The walls were all thick wood, like logs cut in half. The bed matched and the covers were flannel and plaid patterned.
The lamps on the nightstands were in the shape of deer.
The room was a little bit cliché, but at least it wasn’t mine.
I put the suitcase on the bed and hurried to unzip it before Maya could get to me.
When I flipped the top open, I shook my head.
“Look at this,” I said.
Maya froze and her face blushed. “Those are not my clothes.”
“Do you mind if I touch them?” I asked.
“You put them in there, Cole.”
I hooked my pointer finger around a dark pink lacy top that was see through in some very convenient spots.
There were garters to match that too.
Then there were the thongs…
“One, two, three,” I said. “And I’m not sure this even qualifies as a thong…”
I picked up a floss-sized piece of string, grinning as I knew exactly where it would be touching if Maya were to wear it.
Her face was apple red.
“Why, Cole?”
I tossed the thong to the bed. “The truth? To just have fun for a second, Maya. To cut the tension between us. My way of telling you this is really important that you’re here. Maybe I’m trying to get you to crack your shell a little too. You can cut loose here. Be yourself.”
“That is not me being myself,” she said, pointing to the clothes. “That’s you having some sick fantasy about your secretary. Which, if that were the case, you should have had it on the application.”
“Imagine that,” I said. “Work history. Thong preference.”
Maya didn’t look impressed at all.
“Okay,” I said. “No rules here. You can say what you want to me. I won’t fire you. I promise.”
“You’re an asshole, Cole. You think you’re so much better than everyone else. You know you’re good looking and you use it to get what you want from everyone. Not just women either. From men too. You know Mr. Pickle has to pay for the women that just throw themselves at you. You’re the worst kind of person ever. You think you’re funny but you’re not. I wouldn’t stick floss between my ass cheeks if you paid me to. And I’m not hooking my bra to panties and panties to leg things. If you need that to get it up, you’ve got problems.”
Maya put her hand over her mouth and stepped back.
“Is that everything?” I asked.
Maya nodded, her hand still on her mouth.
“Do you feel better?”
She shook her head.
I stepped closer to her. In a bedroom. Alone. In a cabin. On the top of a mountain. Behind me, some provocative clothes on the bed with her cover everything up clothes in her suitcase.
“I meant what I said,” I whispered. “No rules here. You can say what you want. And, hey, if you ask me, you
just came up with a million-dollar book idea.”
Maya moved her hand. “I did?”
“The asshole boss,” I said. “The dickhead boss. You should write a story about that. I’m sure you could make a book out of it. You’ve been around me long enough, right?”
I slowly watched the wheels start to turn in Maya’s eyes.
Maybe she really was a writer after all.
I gently touched her arms. “I have to go meet up with Mr. Pickle. Unpack. Get settled. I’ll be back later. We have a very important dinner tonight. It’s the main reason you’re here. Don’t take this the wrong way, Maya, but when I come back, you better be beautiful.”
I walked to the door and Maya cleared her throat.
“Hey, Cole?”
I looked back. “Yeah?”
“You’re really a dickhead for what you just said to me,” she said.
“I know.”
I exited the room and smiled.
It was kind of nice to see Maya stand up for herself. She wasn’t going to hurt my feelings. I wasn’t sure I had any.
But I meant what I told her.
I needed her to look the part for later.
No high neck shirts and bed head messy hair.
She needed to look ready to fuck and to be fucked.
In the meantime, she could write her book about her asshole boss.
To me, it was just part of the job.
“You son of a bitch, you made it up here,” Mr. Pickle said with a drink in his hand.
His place was the mansion.
I didn’t have time to look at even a tenth of what the house had to offer.
When the massive, front double door opened, a man in a suit met me, shook my hand, and led me to the private bar.
There was a bartender there, wiping down glasses.
He pointed to the balcony, and that’s where Mr. Pickle was standing.
“Look at this view, Cole,” he said. “It’s better than what’s between a woman’s legs, right?”
I laughed. “I don’t know about that. Then again, I’m sure we’ve both battled some thick bushes and brush in our time.”
Mr. Pickle cackled. “Son of a bitch, Cole, that’s a good one. I can tell you a story…” He leaned toward me. “There was this escort I heard about. She didn’t believe in shaving. I mean, you know, the legs and stuff, yes. Can’t get hard if a woman looks like a werewolf, am I right?”
I nodded.
If I was a dickhead, Mr. Pickle made me look like a saint.
The end game was the deal.
I could endure any jokes and stories, as long I kept my focus on the billions of dollars this man wanted to spend.
“The other parts, they were bush city,” Mr. Pickle with a laugh. “It was amazing.”
“Well, to each their own,” I said.
“Cheers to that,” Mr. Pickle said. “Hey, did you bring your secretary?”
“I did,” I said.
“Crazy man, you,” he said. “I thought you’d be parading around some super model.”
“Just wait until you meet Maya,” I said.
“It’s a risk sleeping with the secretary,” Mr. Pickle said. “But it’s worth it. Even if you have to write a check or two to keep their mouths shut. But seriously, just look at this view.”
Mr. Pickle exhaled a deep breath as he watched the trees.
I studied him for a few seconds.
He had a deep connection to the mountains and nature. Somewhere behind the money and power there was just some guy that wanted to be a normal guy.
“I appreciate the view,” I said. “It’s nice to get away. Ease up on the pressures of life. You know, you build this reputation and wealth, then you wonder what the hell you’re doing with it all. Right?”
Mr. Pickle looked at me. “Right.”
“It’s a lot to have people jumping at you, thinking you’re a cash machine,” I said. “It’s bullshit, if you ask me. You know with everything going on here, you’re the only person I’ve talked to. I’m not looking to entertain offers and fuck around. I want this view, Mr. Pickle. Right here.”
Mr. Pickle grabbed my shoulder. “You know your shit, Cole. You know you can’t have this view. This one is mine. But I respect what you’re doing. Have a drink and we’ll meet up for dinner.”
Mr. Pickle walked away.
I knew I had him.
I was this close.
I also knew that tonight was going to be big.
In fact, tonight was going to be life changing.
Chapter Eleven
Maya
I crept up the stairs as though someone else was in the cabin and I wasn’t allowed to be there.
Cole was right.
The second floor was just one big room.
I walked to the window of one of the dormers and looked outside.
It was nothing but trees, which was a duh moment. I was on the top of a mountain in a cabin. With Cole, even though Cole wasn’t there at that moment.
I reminded myself I was being paid. And I was allowed to write.
Which was what I should have been doing.
I walked down the stairs and to the bedroom.
My suitcase was still wide open.
Those clothes Cole packed were on the bed.
“Dickhead,” I said.
Or better yet… what Bev called him.
Cockhead Cole.
That wasn’t him trying to break the ice between us. In fact, he was the one who put the ice there to begin with. I had no intentions of having issues with my boss. I didn’t take the job to have things the way they were. Cole chose that. I chose to work there because I needed to work there.
I looked around the room and swallowed hard.
Slowly, I reached for the lacy top.
I picked it up by one of the narrow straps.
Look, I wasn’t a prude or anything. I had enjoyed myself many times in life. I owned a few pieces of lingerie. Nothing too wild or kinky. I even had a personal item in my nightstand drawer at home.
I just didn’t like or need to look a certain part.
I didn’t need to have my chest hanging out of my shirt. I didn’t like the way lacy stuff felt. Sometimes it was scratchy. And this top… it was totally see-through where my nipples would be. Obviously, it was designed that way. And, hey, that was fine by me. But to have my boss pack that for me?
My eyes looked to the thongs.
And the thongs?
Especially the one that was pieces of floss tied together.
I hated him.
I hated Cole so much.
I scooped up all the naughty clothing and threw it to the floor.
Then I kicked the clothes under the bed.
Enough thinking about Cole.
At least, in this capacity.
If I was going to think of Cole, I needed to do it in writing form.
So I could make enough money to quit and never see him again.
His fingertips were rough, but he moved them gently. He would never hurt her. She believed him. He had whispered it into her ear three times already.
His lips grazed the crook of her neck.
But she was more focused on his fingertips.
She swallowed hard and looked up to the very tops of the trees.
His hand explored.
Moving…
Down…
“Go down to the ground floor and tell Lenny I said he’s a douchebag.”
“What?”
“You heard me, Maya. Right now.”
“I thought you wanted coffee…”
“You brought me my coffee. Now I’m telling you to do something else. Go. Now.”
“Why…”
“Are you questioning me?”
I growled and shut my eyes.
I put my head back and took a deep breath.
I looked forward out the window in the dining room and sighed.
My original story was slowly becoming non-existent.
And it was
a good story too.
About two people who would meet up each summer.
From the time they were fifteen until they were eighteen.
Each summer they would get closer. They would notice the changes in one another. Until that summer they were eighteen when… whoa.
But then they would go their separate ways for good.
It was heartache, love, passion…
And I was thinking about Cole.
So many things he said and did since I started working for him.
How many times did he make a mess on purpose for me to clean up? How many times did he tell me to do something, knowing it was the wrong thing, just so he could tell me it was wrong? How many times did I run stupid errands that had nothing to do with the job? Or…
“Maya, I have a special project for you.”
“Okay…”
“Listen to me. In my apartment right now, there’s a woman.”
“What?”
“Just listen to me. Normally, I’d have Cecily handle this. But she’s visiting her son upstate for the week. So I need you to step in.”
“And do what?”
“Get her out of there.”
“You’re kidding me, Cole.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding you?”
“Cole…”
“Maya, this is your job. You’re my secretary. I’m the boss of this entire company. If I can’t do my job, we all lose our jobs. So, this is part of your job. If you can’t or won’t do this, I’ll call Lenny to come up and escort you out.”
Cole was serious.
He made a phone call to get a car for me.
Someone was going to drive me to his apartment so I could kick a woman out.
This was my life now… this was really happening…
“Car will be here in five,” Cole said. “I don’t care what you have to say or do.”
“Cole…”
“Make a decision,” he said. “If you can’t, leave. I’ll find someone who can.”
“I’ll do it,” I said. “Fine. Whatever.”
“That’s the spirit,” Cole said. “If you don’t mind, I have a conference call to jump on.”
I walked to the door and Cole called my name again.
“I’m going to text you the receipt for my dry cleaning. Grab that on the way over. Thanks, Maya!”