by Stewart, Ann
Exuding masculinity, he continues his strut in my direction. His gray slacks hang from his hips, in just that way, and sway with his movement. Hungrily, I eye his body, appreciating every inch of him. His matching vest clings to his torso, accentuating his toned chest and slim waist. Fighting the urge to lick my lips, my mouth feels dry as my nerves get the best of me. I’m sure every woman reacts this way around him.
As he approaches, a slow, breathtaking smile spreads across his lips. He’s absolutely flawless with his long lashes and spotless complexion. I’m caught. “Elyssa…I need you.” I quiver, in complete shock at his forwardness.
“Y-you need me?” I stutter, feeling like a nervous schoolgirl as I push my hair behind my ear. Considering he’s my boss, I really need to stop reacting this way towards him.
As quick as his smile came, the happiness fades as his mouth straightens into a firm line, finally becoming conscious of the fact he’s reeling me in like a fish on a hook. And if he knows that, he would be wise to stop. We are at work, and whatever is going on, can’t be good for business.
“Its last minute, but I need you to stay late tonight. I’ll need you to make arrangements, now.” Of course it would be work related. Why else would he need me? Uh…Get a grip, Ely! Ignoring my puzzled look, Mr. James begins walking away without giving me a chance to respond, explaining he’ll send the file shortly. He sure has an odd way of asking for help.
Calling over his shoulder, he fires off one more demand, “Meet me in the conference room at four and bring the laptop.” Aye, aye sir! Ignoring the inclination to stand and salute him, I swivel in my chair, baffled by his behavior. One moment he’s looking at me as if I’m prey, and the next he’s ordering me around like his servant. I know I’m his subordinate, but dang…does he have to be so capricious?
His unpredictable behavior is giving me whiplash. I can’t keep up with him. But then again, I probably did this to myself. Why did I think he was even remotely interested in me? Regardless, I need to get my head out of my ass and focus on my career. I promised myself that I would focus on work and make that priority number one. A man like Mr. James, a man that looks like pure unadulterated sex, would not be good right now. He’s the type of man that would literally fuck you into submission. By the time he was done with me I wouldn’t know which way was up, let alone care about my career.
~~~~~
My e-mail pings, bringing an instant flutter rising from my belly, sticking in my throat.
From: Alexander James
To: Elyssa Hart
Date: September 18, 2012, 3:45pm PST
Subject: 4:00 Meeting Files
Attached are the files I need printed and brought to the meeting.
Alexander James
Senior Vice President of Sales and Marketing
P.S. I’ve been thinking about that situation with your male “friend,” just remember that ex-boyfriends are usually ex’s for a reason.
Two things hit at once. First, I now know his name. And, lord does it fit. If just the ping of an e-mail notification can make my stomach flutter, knowing his name makes my heart skip a beat. Second, he’s been thinking about my situation, making me slightly confused. Ugh…He’s so confusing. One minute he’s all business and the next he’s giving me dating advice? My eyes shoot to his email signature. Wait a minute…Senior Vice President!? But, he’s so young. There’s got to be something to that. Resolving to figure that out later, I shrug off the awkward e-mail and try to gather my wits about me. Now, feeling even more intimidated, I hit print and head towards the conference room, laptop in tow.
~~~~~
Standing at the entrance of the conference room I’m entranced by the amazing view of the Las Vegas strip. The twinkling lights are the perfect backdrop as I stand in appreciation. I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed it yesterday, but then again I was dealing with Autumn and her holier than thou attitude.
Facing the vast windows, I catch him looking out into the distance. Appearing deep in thought, his muscular hands form a steeple, resting against his pouty lips. His intense gaze remains fixated on the glowing lights miles away. What I wouldn’t give to know what he’s thinking. I would ask him, but I’m afraid of how he’d react. Instead, I try to remain quiet for as long as possible, drinking him in.
After a moment of silence, I take a deep breath, before approaching the oak conference table. He must have heard me, because just as I reach the table, he swivels his black leather chair to face me. My first instinct is to avoid eye contact and begin searching the floor to ceiling windows next to the large flat panel television mounted on the wall. For what, I don’t know. But, at least for this moment, it keeps me calm.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” His words are a surprise. I wasn’t expecting small talk.
“It’s breathtaking. I’m surprised any work gets done in here.” Standing, he places the palms of his large hands on the conference table, each finger flexing against the light oak. Why am I not surprised that his fingers are well manicured? What is surprising though, is the light scars brimming his knuckles. My first assumption is manual labor, but for some reason it doesn’t seem to fit his character. The other nice tidbit of information I’ve gathered is that he’s missing a wedding ring. There appears to be no Mrs…
The sight of his hands sends my mind into a sexual tailspin. I can imagine them running over the length of my body, caressing every inch with thorough precision. I shake my head and sigh. It’s been years since I’ve been in a sexual relationship, so I’m going to blame it on the hormones. It feels as if they’re in hyper drive and completely focused on him, making it nearly impossible to concentrate any time he’s near. My need for merciless pleasure will have to be placed on the backburner. I can’t mess any of this up.
Shuffling through the paperwork, he absentmindedly pulls out a chair for me, not breaking his concentration. Always the gentleman. “Sit, I’ll need you to take good notes.” I was beginning to think his species was extinct, until he makes comments like that. He’s so demanding, but instead of pouting, I thank him and get right down to organizing the documents he laid in front of me, before opening the laptop.
The meeting lasts for several hours, giving me extra opportunities to closely examine him. In a matter of a few hours I learned three things about him. One, his lips form a pout when he’s deep in thought, bringing even more attention to his dimples than I needed. Two, he’s educated and his eloquent speech is another strike against my resolve to stay away from him. Third, he’s the most stubborn and inpatient man I’ve ever met. Constantly shooting off directions, he took over the mouse every chance he got. Every time he got impatient, my level of frustration practically shot through the roof. I know this is work, and I’m trying real hard not to take it personal, but he’s making it difficult.
My phone vibrates against the table and my eyes dart toward the screen, revealing a text from Cole.
*Pretty soon, I’m going to think you’re ignoring me. I thought you got off at 5. Where are you? Don’t make me file a missing person’s report.*
Biting the inside of my cheek, I take a moment to think of a response, but think twice when I see him out of the corner of my eye, glancing at my screen. His eyes scan the message as his lips form his famous stern line. Quickly, I reach over, placing my phone into my lap.
“If you can pry yourself from your phone, we may be able to finish and get out of here at a decent time.” He’s clearly irritated.
“Sorry…” Frowning, I place my phone back on the table, screen side down, making a mental note not to check messages around him. So not worth it!
I’m nervous as we return our attention back to the report. When he’s around, my mind doesn’t work right.
“The formula is wrong in that cell, that’s why the numbers aren’t adding up. You know what, just move over, I’ll do it.” I push the chair away, but not before his hand brushes against mine, sending a jolt of energy through my body. Huffing and puffing he grabs the mouse and forcefully p
ushes it against the table. Poor mouse. “What in the hell did you do?! This is all wrong!”
My patience is exhausted and my common sense left hours ago. In a moment of weakness I erupt. “You know what…that’s it!” I speak up, irritation laced in every word. He stills.
Realizing my outburst, I pivot my chair only to give myself a clear beeline for the window. I need to get out of his space, clear my mind and calm my breathing. Reaching the window, I close my eyes and relinquish the fact I just yelled at my boss. Shit…shit…shit! What in the fuck did you just do, Ely? I’m completely mortified that I allowed myself to get caught up in the moment. I don’t know what it is about him, but he pushes my buttons. I’m sure to get fired over this. Good Job!
“Excuse me?” His voice is not as rough as I expected, but what’s the saying? There’s always calm before the storm? That sounds about right. But, his tone gives me some hope I may be able to repair the damage I’ve done.
“It’s just…you…I’m…I’m not incompetent. It’s only my second day and you make me nervous.” Unable to see his facial expression I pause, hoping that he forgives my outburst and ignores my lapse of judgment. Expressing how you feel around your superior, on your second day, is probably not the way to win brownie points. After a few more moments of pouting, I risk rejection and turn to face him. His soft, full lips are slightly parted, his eyebrows furrowed as he stares at the computer screen.
“Let’s just finish so we can get out of here. I’m sure you have things to do.” Ignoring my confession, he pushes away from the computer, giving me control once again. Gently, I place my fingers on the mouse, mimicking a petting motion. With a confused look, he shakes his head before a tiny smirk touches the corner of his lips. Whew…crisis averted. I think.
We spend the next hour finalizing the action plan for the upcoming internal audit and complete the PowerPoint. We labored in silence, which worked quite well as we both operated in sync without speaking. No longer seething with irritation, his attitude subsided and he returned to his indifferent self. This is not how I wanted the night to go.
With the minutes ticking by, the silence is maddening, and I have to break the tension or I’m going to scream. “Mr. James, how long have you been with the company?” It’s a perfectly innocent question, and work related, so he shouldn’t get upset with me.
With his attention still focused on the computer screen he answers, “Eight years, Ms. Hart.”
“How did you get your position so quickly?” My question takes him by surprise, as he moves just enough in his seat to make him look uncomfortable.
“Attention to detail…being attentive to needs, and hours, upon hours of hard work,” he says slyly, with one brow raised as a look of darkness creeps in. That was a slightly evasive, if not sexual, answer.
“Sorry, I hope you don’t mind me asking,” I reply, reaching for the ring on my middle finger. When my nerves get the best of me, I find myself unconsciously toying with the gold band my mother gave me. Somehow it gives me comfort.
“Next time, how about asking my permission before asking the question,” he teases, a sexy grin gliding across his lips. For some reason, that grin gives me an inclination that I really don’t know who I’m dealing with. I’ve never been attracted to the “bad boy,” and can honestly say I never understood the attraction. But now, now I understand. My sister dated a few in high school and they all turned out to be heartbreakers, so I always vowed to stay away from that type of guy. But even though my subconscious is screaming for me to run in the opposite direction, my body wants him.
“I didn’t mean to pry. You…you just seem young and I’m always open for career advice.”
“How about you get more than two days under your belt before attempting to take my job,” he jokes, evading any concrete answers.
With his mood lifted, we work for another thirty minutes and decide to call it a night. Collecting our notes, I make a list of tasks I need to complete and gather my things.
“Do you have someone picking you up?” he asks, turning off the lights in the conference room, walking with me towards the elevators.
“No, I drove. My car is in the parking garage.”
“I’ll walk you. It’s dark and you shouldn’t go unattended.”
The ride to the first floor is quiet. Both of us stand at opposite ends of the elevator, staring at the numbers above the door. Feeling very aware of him, my hands feel like pins and needles, as we wait with anticipation of the ground floor. My heart skips numerous beats, unable to calm myself, stealing glances sideways.
“The ex-boyfriend still hounding you?”
“My friend is just wondering where I am. He knew I was supposed to be done with work at five, and is just checking on me.”
“If he’s an ex, why is it any of his concern?” His question disarms me, and almost makes me want to ignore him. Almost.
“He’s my friend, and he cares about me. Do you just throw away your ex’s after you’re done with them, without thinking twice about their safety?” I let the irritation slide into my question. I’m sure he has more ex’s than he can count on his fingers, and toes.
Ignoring me, we proceed further into the garage. I’m confused at his sudden interest in Cole. He doesn’t know him, and for that matter, he doesn’t know me. Who is he to judge?
“Here’s my car. Thank you for walking me.”
“Elyssa?” Turning, I face him just as I unlock my door.
“Yes?”
“Try not to talk to strangers…for both of our sakes.” And he’s gone.
This is exactly what I’m talking about. He is confusing with a capital C. Giving me shit about Cole and then ending the night on a sweet note, which brings me back to our first meeting at the gas station. I thought I saw concern in his eyes, but I assumed it was only a figment of my imagination.
~~~~~
I don’t want Cole to worry, so as soon as I walk in the door, I text him.
**I’m Ok! No need to blackmail or file police reports. Thanks for worrying about me.**
Immediately, I receive a response back.
*Nice to know you’re still alive…You know I always worry about you. So, how was work? Why were you late?*
I don’t think it would be appropriate to tell him how I’m really feeling. Let me see. I work with a man I’m obsessing over and it’s only been two days. I envision his hands all over me, giving me pleasure in more ways than I could ever imagine. Nope, not going there!
**Work was good. Still learning…tired and in need of a bath. I had to stay late. The VP asked for my help. I do as I’m told.**
*Well I hope you don’t do everything you’re told! It’s a tough job, but I’d be willing to come over and help you with that bath.*
I hate having conversations with him over texts. He has no filter.
**Thanks for the offer, but no! Good night Cole!**
*Whatever, you know I’m always up for a good lather. Good night, Ely*
Text messages like these make me feel a little guilty. Alexander James may be my new sexual fantasy, but Cole is technically my only sexual experience. Even though our relationship lacked passion, I forced myself into believing that eventually the need and urgency would grow with time. But, it never happened and it wasn’t fair to continue down that road with him knowing my heart would never belong to him. At this rate, my heart will possibly always remain mine and mine alone.
It’s not that I don’t want the fairytale; you know the whole package with kids and the white picket fence. But, I’m beginning to believe that maybe it isn’t for everyone. Growing up watching my parents, I know love is attainable, but what happens if you never meet the one person who completes you? The one person you can’t possibly live without?
Throughout the years, it’s been hard to let anyone get close to me, which explains why Cole is my only friend. Occasionally, he tries to blur the lines between a friendship and relationship, which I’ve tolerated, but I’ve made sure to keep the two separate
. Call me a sap, but I still yearn for the type of love that’s written in the stars. The type of love that changes you and makes you see the world differently. And Cole wasn’t it.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Relaxing after a long day at work, I’m startled by the incoming texts from Cole. What is he up to now?
*Hey, I looked into your company. There’s info about your VP I think you should know.*
**Why are you looking into my VP? There’s nothing you can tell me that I probably don’t already know**
*Trust me. You don’t know this.*
**You are so damn nosey. I can’t stand you sometimes**
*I’m at your front door, let me in!*
I hate to admit the only reason I’m going to open the door, is that I want to know more about Alexander James. Unfortunately, I haven’t seen him since Tuesday, and because I’ve never experienced this level of infatuation, I have to settle for gossip from my ever so eager best friend. I hate that I always give into him.
Grumbling all the way to the door, I spring it open to see a doe-eyed Cole, grinning from ear to ear with his boyish charm. Sometimes I wonder about him. Even in the summer, and a shaved head, he still wears a beanie. I used to love his floppy blonde locks, especially when it would hang over his deep, dark blue eyes, but now all I get to see is his bald head. After we broke up, he said he needed a change. I guess the change was a whole new Cole, shaved head with a massive tattoo on his back.
In his casual attire of a pullover and jeans, he looks just as handsome as the first day we met. Bringing me into a small embrace, he walks over the threshold. Looking at me through the corner of his eye, we sit down on my couch. I know he’s trying to gage my level of irritation and I hope it shows that I’m none too excited that once again he’s prying into matters which are none of his concern. But, you can’t tell him that. All he’ll say is that he has a right to pry since he’s majoring in Journalism; a major that definitely fits his curious personality, but is extremely inconvenient for his best friend.