by Katy Kaylee
“Aw, come on. We should commemorate the occasion!” That was the downside of having a mom as my right-hand woman. She was very convincing when she wanted to be, making me feel more than a bit guilty for denying her such a simple pleasure.
“Alright,” I groused, wiping at my face with my knit sleeve. I wished that I had thought to wear makeup, but when I’d slid out of bed in the morning, I had thought it was just another Thursday. “But you better get in here too.”
She clapped and handed her phone over to Micah, a tall, willowy young man who typed like his keyboard owed him money. He was the best at transposing, dictation and generating form letters and had definitely saved me hours of slaving away at my own desk. I wasn’t even that shabby of a typist either, clocking about 90 wpm on average, but Micah was just a straight up wizard with his knobby, alien-like fingers.
“Alright,” he said in his always-sleepy voice. “Smile.”
I did my best, curling my lips into a grin, and suffered through the picture. It was worth it, however, as Cecily bounded towards him and clapped as she looked it over. “It’s perfect! I’m going to send it to my hubby right now.”
I laughed at that and finally returned to cutting the cake to distract myself from the twinge of jealousy within me.
Sometimes, when Cecily was especially happy and lovey, I felt a little… sad. Or longing. It was a lingering sort of want that stayed in the background of my mind, usually buried under too many deadlines and responsibilities to notice.
The thing about having a successful career that paid me a bit above thirty thousand a year -with potential to move up and annual raises- was that I had had to put a lot of things on the back burner of life. Things like going out and clubbing in college. Things like parties. Things like relationships. While there’d been flirting here and there, and a total of three dates since I left home at eighteen, I’d never had the time or energy to commit to getting to know someone.
Most of the time I was okay with it. Far too many people I knew were entirely too codependent or stayed in awful, terrible relationships because they were scared of being alone. I’d witnessed far too many fights, breaks ups and other messy situations to generally want any part of that.
But every now and then, usually triggered by Cecily’s pure joy and her husband’s steadfast support of her, I felt a little bit like…maybe… something like that would be…
…nice.
I dismissed those thoughts as unproductive and got back to the matter at hand. I was getting noticed in my field and didn’t have time to waste on sighing about some Prince Charming that didn’t exist. “Alright, let’s try this again. Corner piece?”
“Me!” Clinton said, first in line and already holding his Styrofoam plate out. He was a funny, boisterous guy with a pot belly and a kind face. He had that handsome sort of dadliness to him that was very in at the moment, but I thought he was kind of classically handsome. I’d met his husband and he was just as charming and cuddlable, which didn’t seem fair at all.
I went through one by one, cutting pieces for people depending on what they liked. I didn’t mind if we ran out before I got one; sweets were never really my thing. I liked steak, and potatoes, and cheese.
Oh goodness, did I like cheese.
Probably the biggest saboteur of my waistline, I did love dairy in all of its various forms. I didn’t mind entirely though, as I had grown to like my body over the years. Sure, my thighs were thicker than what was supposed to be the norm, and my stomach was soft. I had back rolls too, and my chest wasn’t demure by any sense of the world. I was somewhere between five seven and five eight, and I changed the color of my long, wavy hair every month or two -or whenever the hell I felt like it.
Maybe I wasn’t what society insisted was attractive, but I liked me.
Most of the time, that was.
“And what would you like?” I asked the next person as they stepped up.
“I feel like being bad, so I’ll have a you sized portion.”
I looked up from the cake sharply to see Jared, one of the tools on the other team. I was pretty lucky that everyone in my group ranged from decidedly average to super awesome, but the other team on my floor had some real stinkers who didn’t seem to have matured past high school.
“Actually,” I said with a wry smile. Because I had to smile. If I frowned or anything else then he would get the satisfaction of thinking that he got to me. And there was no was I was going to let some douchey underling get to me. “I don’t like cake.”
“Oh, that’s surprising.”
I was used to these sorts of comments. Ones that weren’t outright rude enough for disciplinary action but had plenty of subtext to tell me exactly what he thought of me. There was nothing some people hated more than a fat woman being successful and confident.
“Really?” I asked, making my voice sickeningly sweet. “Why is that?”
“Why is what?”
I let my gaze harden ever so slightly. “Why is it surprising that I don’t like cake.”
“Because you’re already so sweet, like a cupcake,” a voice came from behind him. A blond woman peeked out and I recognized it as Kimberly, one of the girls who was currently thirsting after Jared. I didn’t get why. He was decidedly average in every sense of the word. “Isn’t that right, Jared?”
“Uh-huh. That’s what I meant.”
Of course, he didn’t, but I wasn’t going to argue. “Yeah,” I said instead with a laugh. “That’d be cannibalism and we all know that’s generally frowned upon.”
“You betcha! I’d like an icing rose on my piece, if there’s still one left.”
I went about serving the two of them, pretending that everything was fire and I had already forgotten Jared’s veiled jabs, but did he really have to do that on my birthday?
“Don’t listen to them,” another said as they walked off to their own desks. I looked to see that Jillian was the last in line. She was a very athletic type, and one of the newest members on the opposite team, but she seemed nice enough. “If you want cake on your birthday, then you should have it. There’s no shame in that!”
Ugh. I could tell that she was trying to be nice, but I didn’t need it. “I actually really don’t like cake.”
“It’s fine. I’m not gonna judge you for enjoying a treat on your special day,” she was grinning and talking conspiratorially, as if there was something shameful about me eating a stupid slice of food. “I know that people can be awful if you eat anything less than healthy in public but screw them!”
It was worse that she was right, and that she was trying to be kind. It was easier to deal with people who were trying to be mean, because fielding aggression was a lot less complicated than fielding misplaced niceties.
“Thanks, but I really, truly, do not like cake.”
She shrugged, like she couldn’t possibly believe that a plus sized woman could possibly dislike the sweet. “Alright, if you say so.”
I handed her the last piece and withheld a long sigh. I couldn’t show that I was phased. So, I announced that all the cake was gone and headed over to the drink station to get a cup of coffee.
At least caffeine didn’t judge me or try to buddy-buddy up to me by trying to be overly friendly. Just good ol’ stimulant for my suddenly exhausted brain.
Naturally, being an esports company, I wasn’t alone in my caffeine addiction and I was pulled into conversation by the others standing around as the coffee brewed for each of us. As much as I liked the little favor cups, they certainly took up quite a bit of time where there was a line built up.
Eventually, however, I got my bean juice and quickly excused myself, saying I needed a trip to the little girls’ room. Of course, I wasn’t going to admit that I could feel that my voice was on the edge of cracking and my eyes were beginning to sting with frustrated tears.
If there was one thing that I could change about myself, it would be that my tear ducts were hardwired to my anger instead of sadness. Too often I felt myse
lf getting bleary eyed whenever my temper rose, which was incredibly irritating considering it made people think that they had succeeded in wounding me. No, they had only succeeded in pissing me the hell off.
I was so into my thoughts, trying to clamp down on the stupid tears and frustration within me, that I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was doing. One moment I was walking along, sipping at my coffee as if that would calm me down, the next I was slamming into a solid wall.
I stumbled backwards, tripping over the carpet and feeling myself start to topple. I couldn’t figure out why there was a partition where there had never been one before, when a strong arm caught me and hauled me back to center.
I blinked for a moment, trying to catch up with everything that happened. Looking down, I realized that I was now wearing my coffee, soaking through my front with its caramelly goodness.
“Shit!” I cried before it clicked in my brain that I wasn’t alone. Geez, I needed to keep up.
Dread filled my stomach and I could feel my cheeks flush as my eyes flicked upwards. I wasn’t sure what I had expected, but it certainly wasn’t two of the most handsome men that I had ever seen.
“S-s-sorry!” I sputtered, completely taken aback. Normally I was much smoother than that, but between my birthday surprise, and Jared, and the still-warm coffee on my front, I was feeling a bit out of sorts.
The strong, impossibly thick arm pulled away from the small of my back, where it had been positioned to keep me from toppling over, and both men took a step back. I looked up at them with wide eyes, and that was right about when the recognition kicked in.
Oh my God.
It was the owners.
None other than Samson Loto and Xavier Mannon, the two mega-billionaires and playboys who ran the entire company I worked for.
And I had just spilled coffee all over one of them.
Shit.
“Goodness!” I cried, my voice sounding shrill even in my own ears. “I’m so sorry! Is there anything that I can do to help? I should have been watching where I was goi-”
“It’s fine,” the blond one said, Xavier, if I remembered company info right. He had the slightest bit of a French accent to his tone and it went right to my blood pressure, apparently.
The other one, taller, with long, brown hair pulled into a ponytail -the one that I had actually spilled on when we collided- just looked down at his front, then down at me, before turning on his heel and walking away without a word.
Crap.
Crap, crap, crap, crap!
I was so getting fired. So much for the promotions and raises that had been lurking in my late night fantasies. I was absolutely going to end up unemployed because I let myself get overemotional and distracted by stupid people being stupid.
“Don’t worry about it. Sam’s got a shower and other clothes up in our offices. We weren’t in a rush anyways.”
Ah yes, we.
The two owners had been friends since they were kids, or so the legends went. Every now and then a rumor would circulate saying that the two were hot for each other, but considering the long, long, long list of happy ex-lovers they publicly had, I severely doubted that. In any other situation, I might have been curious about their bond, and how they came to be friends, but I was too busy freaking out to give much thought to the matter.
“You have a shower in your office?” was all I managed to get out and even that made me feel like such an idiot.
“Yes, we both have full baths. But don’t tell anyone, we’d prefer for people not to know how many times we’ve crashed here.”
He was being charming. Why was he being so charming? I had just spilled my coffee all over his best friend and business partner’s no doubt expensive clothing, and yet he was being charming!
“Not that I know much about delicates, but shouldn’t you take care of that?”
“Huh?”
Yeah, I was a real genius.
I looked from his extended finger to the front of my nice blouse and figured out what he meant. “Oh! Yeah. I mean, yes. I should go do that. Right now. Uh… sorry again.” I gave him a weird little bow that came from goodness knows where and darted past him, hurrying the last few steps before I could duck into the ladies’ room.
Once I was safe inside, I slumped against the door, my heart thundering in my chest.
I had seen the owners only a couple of times since I had started working at the company when I was twenty-three. Usually at the annual reward dinners. As busy and career oriented as I was, I still had noticed how attractive they were. But apparently, I had no idea of just how attractive they were close up, because boy, did I feel like I was in a bit of shock.
Samson, the one that I had spilled all over, was tall with golden skin and penetrating green eyes. He had to be somewhere around six four, with wild, dark hair that made him look a bit dangerous and wild. He normally wore it loose, but even with it pulled back as it had been today, it still made him look like a warrior.
While they hadn’t been visible under his suit, I knew from a couple of spotlight articles on the duo that he had several Polynesian tattoos hidden under his expensive get ups. But thinking of those spotlight articles just made me think of how absolutely jacked the man was and I shuttled my thoughts elsewhere.
Unfortunately, that elsewhere seemed to just be his business partner, Xavier. The blond man, who had been so sweet and charming, was just as handsome, but in an entirely different way. While Samson was dark looks and promises, Mr. Mannon was classically cut beauty. He kept his sandy-blond hair in a crew cut that was grown out just enough at the top to be dashing. An inch for two shorter than his friend, his friendly blue eyes had been so much easier to look into. And I definitely had -when I wasn’t ogling how he was clearly cut for the gods under his own suit.
Ugh. Of all the people in the company, why had I had to make a fool of myself in front of them?
I didn’t know and the bathroom stalls certainly didn’t have any answers, so I schlepped myself over to the sink and tried washing it as best I could.
In the end, I just ended up dabbing at my shirt with a wet paper towel to little effect. Eventually, I gave up, and just sighed as I looked at myself in the mirror.
What a way to end my birthday.
Xavier
I stood there a moment, contemplating everything that had just happened, then shook my head. I had been mentally prepared for just another boring Thursday where we went to our favorite upscale bar for a few drinks then maybe hit the gym a little more inebriated than we should have, but apparently life had other plans.
I heard a door swing shut and guessed that was the strange woman ducking into the ladies’ room that she had scurried past me to get to.
I couldn’t help but chuckle a little to myself. While I was sure that Samson was less than thrilled about his unexpected coffee bath, I couldn’t help it that I found the woman oddly endearing in her fluster.
She had had a cute, heart-shaped face and full lips. Her cheeks had been flushed red while her eyes had been opened wide in her shock.
And those eyes had been something else, alright. One of them was a sparkling green, not that different than Samson’s, while the other was a deep, deep chocolate. I’d read about heterochromia, but I’d never seen it live.
But then my thoughts drifted from those interesting eyes and her violet-blue hair down to the way her teal blouse had clung so solidly to her frame. It had been a test not to let my gaze linger anywhere inappropriate, but it had been impossible not to notice the thin fabric as it melded with the soft curve of her large breasts. They would be more than a handful, even for me, maybe even for Samson and his ridiculously big mitts.
No.
I was not thinking about an employee’s breasts. I knew better. One thing my friend and I were insistent on was that we respected our workers, all of them, and thinking about her assets was not the way to go.
Shaking my head, I went to the elevator, my hand slipping into my pocket for my phone. M
aybe I could call up Priscilla; I was beginning to feel like I was in a bit of a mood and she was oh-so-good at scratching itches in the past.
But then I remembered about how the actress had started to get a bit too attached the last time we messed about and my hand left my pocket. It was a shame, really.
The elevator doors closed in front of me and my mind slipped back to the look on Samson’s face when he had just barely stopped the woman from falling to the ground after bouncing off his chest. It had been so long since anything had surprised either of us like that, so I was going to mentally keep that look in my mind for whenever I needed a good chuckle.
“I’m never gonna let him forget this,” I murmured to myself, grinning up at my reflection on the polished ceiling of the lift.
But the more I thought about how amusing his surprise had been, the more my thoughts kept drifting to the employee.
She had been a bit taller than average, but not quite like the long-legged models we had been photographed with at the last bit party we had gone too. She also had wide, soft looking hips that were practically begging to be gripped and held onto while-
No.
I shook my head at myself. Sure, I loved a curvy, womanly figure just as much as the next red-blooded man, but I needed to cool it. Samson and I hadn’t worked our entire lives to build a successful business just for me to drool over a woman who was basically the epitome of all my teenage fantasies. She looked like she had been half my age, anyways. Lusting after her could no doubt be interpreted as creepy.
And I was not creepy.
Or at least that was what I told myself.
I also told myself that I was going up to our office suites to check on Samson, but instead I pressed another button entirely. A few moments later, I was stepping out into the HR floor.
While we were far from a mega-building, we did rent out six floors in a nice office building. I looked forward to the point where we were big enough to sustain our own large place, but considering that esports was still a young field, both Samson and I felt that it was important to diversify in case everything shifted and growth in the employee count wasn’t as vital as having a stable, sustainable portfolio.