by Schiller, MK
“I didn’t flirt back. Geez, Stevie, sometimes, I think you’re ten,” I retorted.
“Sometimes, I don’t even think you’re a girl,” Stevie said. She stood, placed her hands on the table and leaned in towards me in a pathetic attempt to be intimidating. She peered down at me so her face was hovering above me.
“Sometimes, I don’t think you’re a girl.” I stood up, placed my hands on the table and met her gaze so we were inches apart. What I said made no sense though—Stevie was super girly.
I looked around completely aware of everyone’s thoughts. My mom was about to break us up, Dillon was getting ready to egg us on, Billie was about to side with Stevie, and Adam was thinking of a sly come back. This was my crazy family, and I knew them like the back of my hand.
“She’s definitely a girl. I can vouch for that,” Adam beat everyone else with his sarcastic and somewhat disgusting remark. We all replied with a loud ‘eww’. I even think Van Morrison meowed in disgust.
Chapter Three
I approached the next day as a fresh start. I would only be working with Rick Randy for a few months, and I needed to act somewhat cordially. I could do this. Rick was already at his desk when I got to work. I gently knocked on his door and stepped in.
“Good morning, Marley,” he said with a smile. “You look nice today.”
I returned his smile. I wore one of Stevie’s cast-off outfits—a houndstooth skirt and black blouse complete with adorable Mary Jane shoes.
“Thank you. I wanted to know how you take your coffee.”
“You’re bringing me coffee? That’s very nice of you,” he said, grinning boyishly.
“I did that for Mr Bellman,” I replied nonchalantly.
His smile deepened. “I’ll take it hot and sweet.”
“What does that mean exactly?” I asked.
He looked at me for an instant then back down at his computer. He was wearing another suit—a black one with a red diamond-patterned tie. His hair was a little spiky on top, and I resisted the urge to smooth it down. “I’m sure you can figure it out.”
I walked away wondering if I was reading too much sexual innuendo into everything he was saying. When I set the full cup of coffee on his desk, he glanced at it before looking up at me with those deep green eyes.
“I’m honoured.”
I stared at him completely perplexed, and he gestured to the cup for my answer. I regarded the ceramic mug with horror. The small employee lounge area at the Henley office suite had a vending machine, a fridge, two coffee pots and a cabinet with a mismatch of mugs. I’d happened to pour Rick’s coffee in the mug embellished with the words ‘World’s Best Boss’.
“I just grabbed the first one I saw. It wasn’t deliberate.”
“Well, maybe it was subconscious, Garter Belt Girl. We all do things we’re not aware of subconsciously.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “It wasn’t. You’re still calling me Garter Belt Girl after our conversation yesterday?”
“You never told me to stop. Tell me to stop and I will.”
“Stop.”
“Done.”
I walked out, but his deep laughter followed me. I slammed the door and got started on the tasks he’d asked me to do.
The work kept me busy and took my mind off the subconscious cup calamity, scandalous nicknames and stunning gem-like eyes, until mid-morning. I absently chewed on my pencil, looking over the draft of my spreadsheet, when I started thinking about him again. He was so cute. No, cute was definitely not the right word. I was cute. He was more…handsome, striking, Adonic, attractive, fine, dapper, good-looking and sexy. The right word eluded me…he was just…more.
His lips were thick and they curved in the most magnificent way. His hair looked soft and I loved the way his bangs forked over his forehead effortlessly. I liked his eyes best of all because they were so deep and different. The piercingly sharp colour made me not want to look at them straight on, but also made it difficult to turn away.
Hmmm. Even though I wouldn’t demean myself by flirting with him, I had to admit that Dillon was right. Rick Randy was perfect eye-candy. There was no chance he could be anything more than that for a billion other reasons. First, he had a girlfriend and although I didn’t have monogamous relationships, I respected other people’s. He was my boss, so that was another top reason. Even though he was very flirty, I didn’t think he was the kind of guy that would do casual-consensual, which was all I did—he actually seemed old-fashioned in a way. Despite all that, I had to admit I found him extremely attractive and that was dangerous.
Maybe I could somehow alleviate the danger by inviting him into my fantasies—the ones I had at night when I was alone with my vibrator. I would have to drop one of my other regulars though to fit him in. Should I drop Kid Rock? He was my only rocker so I needed to keep him. Should I drop Zac Efron? He was the charming boy next door and I liked his smile. Should I drop Tom Brady? I thought I needed at least one athlete. I didn’t watch football, but I sure as hell knew who Tom Brady was. This was hard to do. My mom was eclectic about music and I had inherited that trait, but it applied to more than music. Maybe I’d just add him as a fourth round hail Mary. Would the Chris Pine lookalike in the office behind me work well with the others? Would he play nice? Would it all make pleasurable sense in the menacing, menagerie of my masturbating mind? A clearing of the throat brought me out of my dream-like haze with startling clarity. Oh crap! How long had Rick been standing behind me?
“Excuse me.”
I glanced up at him guiltily. His cynical grin didn’t help. It was as if he knew what I’d been thinking.
I took the pencil out of my mouth and winced at it. It resembled a freaking dental mould with all my teeth marks. “Sorry, can I help you?”
He placed a large box on my desk. “Facilities is bringing up two filing cabinets. I’ll need you to file these for me in alphabetical order, please.”
“Sure, my pleasure,” I replied eagerly, as if filing was the answer to my lifelong woes.
“Marley, were you day dreaming just now?”
I flushed, not sure how to answer. His grin widened as he waited patiently. He was obviously taking some sadistic pleasure in my unease. “I prefer to think of it as resting my mind. Sorry.”
“Don’t be, we all need to dream, be it at day or night.”
It was funny how his words hit home for me
* * * *
I joined Dillon for lunch, and despite his excessive probing, I kept my mouth shut about Rick. Rick had left for lunch before me and he was already in his office, working studiously when I returned. There was a Zesty bar on my desk. It made me smile. I went into his office to thank him, but restrained myself from taking more than a few steps. Although he was wearing the same suit, his hair was damp, which made it look even sexier. He smelt of fresh aftershave and looked flushed. An uneaten sandwich sat on his desk. I stared at him quizzically. “You didn’t eat your lunch yet?”
He looked up from his computer. “No, I went to the gym. I like to go at lunch.”
It didn’t surprise me that he worked out. It was evident every time I looked at him. He had a broad chest and muscular build, but not overly so. I imagined him to be a swimmer more than a weight lifter. However, the fact that he worked out at lunch seemed strange, as did the idea that he was such a work-out fiend he’d found a gym on his second day in Chicago.
“You found a gym already?”
“Yes, it’s just around the corner. Do you want to come with me sometime?”
Yeah right! I worked out, but I couldn’t imagine the thought of being next to him, suffering through watching him being all sexy and sweaty. My cheeks flushed at the mere thought.
“No thanks.”
“You sure? Apparently, I get a discount if I sign someone up.” He grinned pleasantly.
Hmm…maybe he’s a cheapskate after all.
“Yes, thanks for the Zesty bar.”
“Sure.”
“Marley
, can you work late tonight and file those papers for me?”
I nodded, since my only plans for this evening were with my vibrator, and that could wait.
“I’m eventually going to make the company paperless before I leave, but for now, the files are necessary.”
“Isn’t that dangerous? I mean, what if there’s a network crash?”
“Not if you’re careful. We’ll have a back-up, and it will save time and money in the long run.”
“It sounds efficient,” I replied optimistically.
“It will make things run much tighter around here and create a surge of free space and resources.” He emphasised the words tighter and surge.
I high-tailed it out of his office, trying not to slam the door behind me. I used my water bottle to wet a napkin and ran it across my neck. The rest of the day was long but productive. The filing cabinets had been set up, and I got to work straight away. Rick didn’t come out of his office, and I was thankful for that. He was horribly distracting to me in every way.
After five, the lights dimmed outside our office. I heard the shuffling of bags and coats as people rushed out. I still had a ton of filing to do, and now I was alone…with him. It was very rare that anyone worked late in our office. I wasn’t frightened of Rick, but rather by the idea of my own devious thoughts becoming actions. I concentrated on my work, but around six, I heard the unmistakably sultry sounds of Santana and Rob Thomas, playing through his office door. He was listening to Smooth, one of my favourite Santana songs. It made me relax and I started sashaying to it while I filed. I couldn’t help it—the things Santana’s guitar did to my body should be illegal. My hips swayed to the rhythm in a silly samba. Funny, it didn’t seem like the type of song I’d picture Rick liking, but then again, why wouldn’t he? It was extremely seductive and sexual just like him. I imagined he could salsa the way men should—masculine and controlling and just so damn…smooth.
“Marley?” His sexy voice chimed through my thoughts. My back went ramrod straight. Geez, this man was too quiet when he walked. I needed to put a cowbell on him. I turned around adjusting my hair anxiously.
“Can you add these files?” he asked, grinning broadly at me.
“Sure,” I said curtly, taking the files.
“You were dancing.”
“You were playing Santana,” I replied as if that was an explanation.
“Oh, Santana makes you dance?”
“I guess so. Does he make you leer like some kind of stalker?” I snapped. My indignation only caused his smirk to widen.
“No, Marley, you manage to do that on your own.”
I swallowed, but my throat was completely dry. I leaned against the cabinet. I hoped he would think it was for comfort, but in that moment, it was for complete support.
“I’ll have to remember that.”
“Remember what?” I tried to sound offended, but it came out breathless instead.
“To download more Santana, of course. I really enjoyed the show.”
I wanted to reply with some witty comeback, but before my brain could function, he walked back to his office.
I allowed myself ten minutes to calm down, thinking I would need to buy new batteries for my vibrator since it was going to get plenty of use. I walked into his office when I was done filing to let him know I was leaving. I didn’t want to, but it was something I would have done with Mr Bellman. I wouldn’t give Rick the satisfaction of knowing how he was affecting me, although at this point, it was probably obvious.
He has a girlfriend. He’s your boss. He’s not suitable for a one-night stand. You don’t do relationships. He has a girlfriend… I repeated the phrases like a mantra as I approached him.
“I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving.” I tried to keep my tone even. He glanced towards the clock then back at me. I wondered if he was trying to keep track of my hours. “The filing is all done.”
He surprised me when he said, “Thank you, I’ll walk you out.”
“Are you leaving?”
“No, I have some more work to do, but I want to see you to your car.” He grabbed his jacket as he walked towards the door.
I held out my hands, shaking my head. “Really, that’s okay. I’m perfectly capable of walking to my car alone.”
He paused, but only for a moment. “I know that, but it’s late, and the parking lot’s empty.” He gestured to the picture window behind him.
“Seriously, the chivalry thing is nice, but totally unnecessary,” I said laughing, but it sounded a little too hysterical. I couldn’t imagine being alone with him in the elevator for sixteen flights.
His chiselled features became completely sombre. “Marley, I’m not joking. Every day that you work late, I’m going to make sure you get to your car. It’s non-negotiable for me. If you won’t allow me to, I can’t have you stay late.” He spoke slowly with concentrated intent. It was no use arguing—he was determined.
“Fine,” I conceded. We walked in silence towards the elevator. I didn’t want to admit it, but it was actually quite nice of him to escort me. I had stayed once before, much later than this, for Mr Bellman, and he hadn’t so much as acknowledged it.
We both went to opposite ends of the elevator car, as if being too close was dangerous. He has a girlfriend. He’s your boss. Look at that silky hair. Crap no! He’s not about casual consensual. Look at those hard abs…wonder what else is hard? Fuck! Rick was my Kryptonite. I breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator doors opened, finally releasing us from our confinement.
He walked me to my car in silence then opened the door for me. He thanked me for my hard work and told me to drive safe before heading back into the building. It was the sweetest gesture. Part of me wanted to express that to him, but most of me just wanted to hit the accelerator and rush home to my vibrator.
Chapter Four
Rick definitely scored many touchdowns over the weekend, at least in my mind. We’d fallen into a more comfortable pattern. The next few weeks were a little easier. He would still make the occasional double entendre and I would ignore it, but for the most part, we did work well together. I had more responsibilities in my new position as his assistant, and I enjoyed that. He asked for my advice on his ideas quite a bit and I was pleased when he actually took it, but I was completely flattered when he gave me the credit I was due. I went to meetings with him and Henley. Kathy was there too. It was almost comical. I would bring up an idea and Kathy would shoot it down immediately, saying it was impractical. Henley was oblivious to the power play that was happening, but Rick seemed to sense it. He was a very smart man. He would bring up the idea a few minutes later re-wording it slightly. Kathy would gush all over it saying it was brilliant, to which Rick would reply that it was the same idea I’d had. I’d never witnessed office politics play out so clearly.
Kathy was majorly crushing on Rick. She would stop by our office with various, inane excuses for needing his time. He was professional and courteous, but I noticed he never flirted with her. I wondered if his advances towards me were due to the fact that I was his assistant. In reality, the flirting didn’t bother me. I actually liked it and I felt if I told him to stop completely, he would. After all, he didn’t call me Garter Belt Girl anymore. But I didn’t tell him to stop, at least not emphatically, and that was what bothered me.
Rick worked tenaciously to bring all of his projects to fruition. I worked the necessary overtime to complete the items on his checklist, but his hours were massive. I wasn’t sure how many, but he was always at the office before me and always left after me. As promised, he walked me to my car whenever I stayed late. He utilised my skills during the day and I fantasised about his skills during the night. In this way, I kept my desires at bay because I knew nothing would come from them. He had a girlfriend, he was my boss and I was a total mess—it helped to keep repeating those boundaries to myself.
I brought him his coffee every morning and every morning he complimented my appearance, especially when I wore a sk
irt. Occasionally, he would leave a Zesty bar on my desk when I returned from lunch. I started looking forward to the little treats. I had always enjoyed my job, but now I was excited about it—I chalked it up to my new responsibilities, but in the back of my mind, I knew Rick had something to do with it.
On Thursday of our second week, I noticed the Zesty bar after I got back from lunch. I smoothed out the brown paper wrapper, turning it over in my hand. It was such a sweet gesture. I always felt a little disappointed when there wasn’t one waiting for me. I started thinking about the days he left them for me. Was there a pattern? I knew it was crazy, but I was in marketing and I’ve always thought in terms of charts, spreadsheets and graphs. I was technically still on my lunch hour, since Dillon and I had just run out and got food, so I decided to spare a few minutes to think about the Zesty bar pattern.
I created a new spreadsheet and listed the days I would find Zesty bars on my desk—I could remember each one of them. On the opposite side, I listed what had happened that day. There didn’t appear to be any obvious conclusions. There were days when I hadn’t even seen Rick, except to bring him his morning coffee—he’d been in meetings all day or had stayed in his office. I had thought he gave them to me as an award when I came up with a good idea or strategy, but tabulating the results didn’t prove that theory. I looked over my spreadsheet again. It wasn’t as if it was every other day either, which might make sense. I crossed my legs, smoothing down my skirt, and stared at the Zesty bar in confusion. Suddenly it hit me—an epiphany—startling me. My fists clenched involuntarily, and I became livid. He gave me a Zesty bar every time I wore a skirt! Holy crap, is he trying to train me? I thought he respected my ideas and looked to me as a source of inspiration. Yeah, guess my skirts inspired him.
The protein bar in my hand suddenly felt heavy, and I had an urge to hurl it. I walked into his office determinedly. He stared up at me with that quizzical grin, which revealed his perfect teeth and endearing dimple. I was going to wipe it right off his face. “Is something wrong, Marley?”