We each took a glass and held them high before taking a sip.
"What happened, Garrett?" Lilah asked.
"I had a meeting with Jeff. Out of the blue, Nic showed up. They're investigating the breaches and suspending me for thirty days, pending the results."
"What?" I asked, my hand clutching his knee. "Who will investigate?"
"No idea. I don't even think they have anyone in mind. Because I am the owner of the network and all of our applications, they felt I should have known and done more to prevent it." He threw back the rest of his shot before speaking again. "They both stated that I lacked judgment. I made this department. Eight years ago, they had nothing."
Sensing his anger, I poured three more shots. Garrett, Hunter, and I downed them. I winced and shuddered from the bite of the alcohol.
"Fuck it. I'll start entertaining calls from headhunters before these allegations damage my reputation,” said Garrett.
"Wait. Wait. Wait. You have two months until you're fully vested. If you quit, you'll lose a quarter of a million dollars," Hunter warned. "Remember our plan."
"You're right, but I can't take this lying down. I'm pissed," Garrett answered, resignation in his tone and facial expressions. "I'm sorry for unloading my shit on you all."
"We're your friends," I spoke up. He reached out and brushed aside a long strand of hair covering my eye. His fingers grazed my cheek, sending electrical currents to the spot where our skin met.
"The senior leadership team doesn't have a shred of ethics. They aren't taking appropriate actions and recommendations made by the board. Someone is going down. Mark my word on this." Lilah picked up her cocktail glass and took a small sip. "Nic is a nasty piece of work. I haven't had a genuine moment with her. At first, she seemed supportive, but over time she's proven herself untrustworthy. She doesn't communicate directly with me, preferring to use email or Jeff Cagle. I'd been excited about working at Dynex and sitting at a table with a female CEO. The only thing I've learned is the fine art of throwing tantrums, manipulation, and threats. You and Hunter are the only people on the executive team behaving with any emotional maturity."
"Thank you. I appreciate your honesty." Hunter leaned in, hooked a finger with hers, and they beamed at each other. My best friend's world brightened.
Aww. They are so cute.
"Garrett, that is one pitfall of my career. Eight out of ten times, the perpetrators of online fraud are the people least suspected." My mind was a little fuzzy from the shots. "I envisioned myself assisting companies protect their assets. Not help rich men gain more wealth. I wanted to help small to mid-sized businesses fulfill their dreams. I never thought I would be a part of the machine. Your suspension does nothing to make me feel that I've made the right decision. Good people always end up hurt."
The four of us commiserated, each sharing a tale of dissatisfaction or frustration with our careers, companies, or jobs.
After two hours, Hunter stood, taking Lilah by the hand. She rose and grabbed her purse.
"Thanks for the drinks. Delilah and I have dinner reservations, and I need to catch up on a few work items. Jasmine, I'll see you tomorrow." He nodded to Garrett. "We'll be in touch."
Garrett and I walked the two to the door where Lilah and I hugged.
"See you tomorrow," she winked.
"See you two," I answered.
"We'll be in contact," Garrett called. He closed the door and leaned against it. He was hurt and anger all balled into one.
"Come here." I pulled him in for a hug. "You're so tense. Let it go."
We stood like that for ages. I inhaled his strong manly scent and felt him relax in my arms. He brushed my hair aside and kissed along my neck and clavicle.
"Thank you for being here."
"What do you need from me?"
"I need you." He stared at me with intense desire. I knew that look. My heart pounded in my chest.
"I don't think you can handle me," I teased.
"I've handled the hell out of you. Do you need a reminder?" A grin of masculine delight pulled at the corners of his lips. He gently played with the bow artfully tied at my collar. "Is this a gift for me?"
A rush of heat traveled from my head to my feet, and I was sure that a rosy hue bloomed on my cheeks. My face and body were hot, yet goosebumps trickled up and down my flesh.
A soft whimper rose in my throat as a slow shiver traveled up my spine. He pulled at one of the trailing ends of fabric, and like the bow, I became undone. I raised my arms as he pulled at the hem and lifted the cloth over my head. He undressed me, and it felt like our first time. My skirt, panties, and bra all fell to the floor, and I stood in only my thigh-high stockings and shoes. Naked and vulnerable, I submitted. I trembled underneath his hand, or was it him? Then he kissed me, taking his time, loving every single inch of my bared skin.
His fingers slid along my scalp and pulled me forward until our lips met. He sucked at my bottom lip and nipped at the flesh until I was soft, plump, and swollen. I could have kissed Garrett for hours. He teased me with a slight grind of his hips against mine. The loud moan that escaped my throat surprised me.
Our eyes met, my brown met his glowing ambers with flecks of gold, and he scooped me in his arms as if I weighed nothing. My attraction to his strength shot straight to my core. He never took his eyes off me as he walked us to his bedroom and placed me in the bed.
He reached in the nightstand and pulled out a handful of condoms. I crooked a brow at him.
"I want to lose myself in you," he explained.
I understood what he meant. Sometimes, people needed a distraction to take their minds off the bullshit that life threw their way.
I stroked the rock-hard cock constrained in his trousers. My pussy ached to have him inside of me. I reached for the front panel of his pants, unbuttoned and pulled at the zipper. My hand sought out my favorite muscle. His cock was so thick and long, and I eagerly pumped up and down.
"Don't rush . . . You'll make me come," he growled. "A slow touch. Just like that."
He pulled off his clothing and stood naked before me—no hint of embarrassment or insecurity on his face. He had nothing to be ashamed of. Garrett was a modern-day Adonis, a handsome combination of beauty and strength. Perfectly sculpted arms. Abs so ripped you could do your laundry on him. Then there were the veins and the v-line that lead to his cock, which bobbed wildly as if it had a mind of its own.
Lowering my body to the bed, he hovered over me. Pressing his rigid and firm parts against my soft ones, he rained a mixture of gentle and forceful kisses. The excitement grew in me as he licked at my hardened nipples. Soon, desire slid from my pussy, leaving trails of moisture along my thighs.
God. I was so wet. It wasn't a damn waterfall—a monsoon flowed from me.
"You are so responsive, so wet for me." He pushed a finger inside my drenched canal before pumping in a second, causing me to writhe into the mattress.
Torture was the only way I could describe how he made my pussy pulsate. Delicious yearning mixed with carnal heat and anticipation.
He plucked a condom from the nightstand and began rolling it onto his cock. I thrashed wildly when he grasped my ass and moved in place. Without warning or even a blink, he sank inside of me. We sighed in unison as he bottomed out. Staying still, deep inside of me, he lavished kisses on my lips, face, and neck.
"Mmm. Garrett, move. I need to feel it," I said, gripping his hips to guide in and out movements. My attempts were futile as he refused to move.
"Bossy. Bossy." He chastised, his breath hitched as he struggled. "You're in charge at work, but not here in the bedroom. I'm in charge of the fucking." He snaked an arm around a leg and hitched it over his shoulder. The new angle allowed him to sink in deeper until we were pelvis to pelvis. He kissed my ankle, beginning a slow, agonizing rhythm.
"You do that well." I smiled. "For a Michigan boy."
He growled in response and sped up his rhythm. He thrust harder and faster and then harder,
relentlessly hitting my special spot over and over until I came. Seconds later, he roared to eruption.
He pulled me into his arms, our breaths slowing to normal. The cool air from the overhead fan chilled my sweat-soaked skin. I shivered a little, and he pulled the covers over us.
"Do you think that karma has her payday? That we have to pay for the bad things we do?" he asked.
"I don't believe that life works that way. Call me naïve, but I believe in redemption and forgiveness. I believe that life allows us to mess up and learn from it."
He kissed my temple and clutched me tighter.
The day after Garrett's suspension started in the war room. The room was quiet, and the mood morose.
"Good morning!" I exclaimed brightly.
The team members grumbled an assortment of greetings. I understood their sadness. With Garrett's absence, an integral part of our team was missing. It was hard to trust management when they make decisions that aren't fair. Especially when those decisions impacted someone we'd grown to like a lot. I worried because the team had worked hard, and I didn't want distrust of management to ruin all the gains we'd made on this project.
I was afraid that our lives would never be the same.
Even though I knew the Dynex leadership team lacked a soul, I should have been better prepared when Nic invited me to her office for an informal talk. Six weeks ago, I would have jumped at the chance to sit and talk with a female CEO. The mentoring and coaching could have been invaluable to my career and life, but I didn't like Nic. She tried to sabotage ER Wallace's work and make us look bad. Then she fucked with Garrett. That earned her a place on my shit list.
The reasons she wanted to meet with me were unfathomable. I thought she wanted to gloat, plain and simple. Or she would record me acting a smartass, then play the recording for Junior. I wouldn't give her what she wanted. I would tamp down the sassiness and keep it cute and professional . . . well, as long as she didn't strike first.
Nic didn't include an agenda in her invitation, so I created one. I pulled out a black leather portfolio and began scribbling topics for discussion, questions, and notes. No matter how many twists and turns she took, I would steer the conversation back to work-related topics and professional advice.
I vowed to control her and our interactions.
Armed with my portfolio filled with questions, I placed a placid smile on my face as I walked the hallways from the conference room to Nic's office. The executive suite was like every other area of the building—modern steel with dark wood and glass windows. Yet, the area stunk of privilege and wealth.
"Ahh, Jasmine Carmichael. How are you? I'll let her know you are here." Nic's assistant was a lovely gray-haired lady named Joyce. She greeted me with a smile, and her nice tone chipped a tiny piece of my steel-clad armor away.
“Good morning, Joyce,” I answered.
Joyce typed on her computer and looked up at me. "Nic will see you now."
I expected to turn the knob and walk in. Instead, Nic opened the office door and waved me inside.
"Jasmine, come on in. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me." Her smile appeared genuine. So, I let my defenses down a little more.
I stepped into the space and looked around. The furnishings and décor were feminine – floor to ceiling windows along with exposed brick walls. There were three floral bouquets placed around the office. Soft orchestra music played on a wireless speaker system.
"Have a seat." She gestured to an area filled with off-white seating, warm woods, and brass sculptures. On a brass and glass coffee table sat a small tiered tray holding finger sandwiches and mini-desserts.
"I asked Joyce to bring in mid-morning tea. I've not had an informal discussion in here in months, especially with another woman. The boys don't know the difference between Earl Grey and English Breakfast."
"This is lovely." I sat on the sofa and spread a white cloth napkin on my lap.
Like clockwork, Joyce brought in a tray containing a white floral tea service.
Nic's confidence was impressive. Most women in leadership positions hardened themselves to appear stronger and to prove themselves as leaders. Not Nic. She'd worn a fitted navy sheath dress and black open-toed heels. Everything about her, from her softly layered bob hairstyle, her freshly applied makeup, morning tea, to her office décor were unapologetically feminine. She'd worked her way up in a male-dominated world without sacrificing her womanly qualities.
At thirty-four, she was only a few years older than me. The woman was a Forty Under 40 in Fortune magazine. Managing a large organization was remarkable, but at such a young age, it was doubly impressive.
She tilted the teapot and poured tea into the teacups. "I've provided feedback to the Wallace team about you and Delilah. We are grateful to have you. One lump or two?" A warm smile lit up her face.
Here we go.
She started the conversation with a lie, and she smiled while saying it. The woman was a piece of work. I picked up the fragments of armor that Joyce's calm demeanor had chipped away and superglued them back in place. I was from the south; I could swap sugar with the best of them.
"Two lumps, please." I smiled.
She used the tongs to lift two sugar cubes and placed them in the tea. She handed me a teacup and leaned back against the sofa before taking a sip.
"I feel like I don't know you. Tell me about yourself," she said.
Over the years of my career, I'd trained and perfected for moments when I had seconds to make a positive impression. My elevator speech was a thing of beauty.
"I've been a consultant at ER Wallace for five years. I've worked on projects for ten of the top fifty companies. My goal is to position myself to take on more responsibility at Wallace. I'm not married, nor do I have children. Now is the perfect time to work toward my dreams."
"Just be sure that you don't sacrifice your life for the job. In my climb, I missed out on a lot of opportunities for a family. I wish I hadn't. I've attended many presentations on having it all. I'm not ashamed to admit that I don't, and I'm a work in progress," she confessed. I detected a note of honesty in her words. "Jasmine, I am not built for the emotional side of business. I care about people too much. This has been a difficult few days. Learning that the hackers were in our network, the stress of getting rid of them, and then having to make a tough decision about one of my trusted advisors. I've spent the entire time obsessing over the choices made and doing damage control."
"At least we've caught it before they could do any significant destruction."
"Yes. Thankfully we did." She leaned in. "I feel terrible about Garrett. He showed a serious lapse in judgment, which left the organization exposed. I hope that time away gives him a chance to recuperate and refresh. We need him in top form if we will have a successful IPO."
"I understand." I didn't want to talk about Garrett or the suspension. "When did you know that you wanted to work in science?"
"I graduated with a degree in chemistry and received an MBA from Northwestern. I had student loans out the wazoo. I could have taken a position with a top one hundred organization or risk it and work at a startup. I took the job at a startup, deciding to have a shot at true wealth over a comfortable lifestyle. What about you? Any thoughts on returning to school?"
"I've thought about it, but I haven't decided." Truth is, I didn't want to go to graduate school.
"Did you know that I was on the e-commerce project? I remember the early days. I worked closely with Garrett on conceptualizing The Scientist's Companion. We were best friends and coworkers, young and fearless. Then our careers took unique twists and turns. Six years later, I became his boss's boss."
Jesus. Not him again.
She threw her head back and chuckled. "We've had fun. He was the life of the party; he knew how to captivate a room. You know how charming he can be."
I knew all about Garrett's charms. Last night, I'd stayed with him. He'd ordered carry out, and we watched the latest Italian mobster flick. After the
movies, he'd charmed my pants right off of me, then I'd fallen asleep in his arms.
This morning, I'd stared down at him while he'd slept. I'd hated to leave. He'd looked so peaceful surrounded by the disheveled bedsheets.
It surprised me to admit that he'd grown on me. Our time together was swiftly ending, and I didn't want it to. I knew that life without him would never be the same. I dreaded going back to the routine of travel for work and coming home to an empty house. I wanted a life filled with laughter, children, and . . . him.
I was falling in love.
If given the opportunity, I would continue the journey with him. I needed to make sure he wanted more. Right now wasn't the best time to broach the subject, so I put it all behind me because Garrett had enough on his mind. He had to salvage his professional reputation and figure out his direction forward. My demands for his love and fidelity seemed selfish and self-serving.
I put a pin in my thoughts and vowed to come back to it at a later date and time.
Nodding, I reached over for a cucumber sandwich and took a sip of tea. I needed to steer this ship back to safer waters.
"Yes. He's nice. I read your feature in CEO Monthly. I appreciated your openness with sharing your childhood and teenage years.”
"I didn't have an impressive support system. Growing up with an alcoholic mother and an absentee father, I learned the art of perseverance. Student loans aside, I made it through relatively unscathed. I'm sure you can identify with my struggles."
Did she just try to trauma bond with me? Oh, the bitch was wack. She'd made dangerous and offensive assumptions about me and my upbringing.
"I'm the youngest of two girls. My parents are approaching their thirty-second wedding anniversary. I realize that I may be an exception and not the rule. I'm thankful to have mentors and role models from all walks of life. Thank you for taking time to get to know me."
It's a Work Thing Page 15