I prepare myself for the worst. He’s probably got the secretary facing the glass window of the wall overlooking the sunrise. And you know, I can’t say I blame her for wanting a little bit of Sebastian early in the morning.
But when I look in, I don’t see him hooking up with anyone. Instead, he’s doing the most boring thing I’ve ever seen a man do:
Pushups.
To be fair, he’s got his shirt off. After finishing one set, he jumps up to a pull up bar that is apparently installed on his wall.
“Oh yeah. Fuck yeah,” he growls as he reaches the top of a rep.
Animal.
The man is a total animal. And I’m completely mesmerized by it. Maybe it’s his six pack. Maybe it’s his ginormous arm muscles. Maybe it’s the way his manly musk fills my nostrils, and the fact that I can sense how much this man is half billionaire tycoon, half country boy.
But suddenly, at seven fifteen a.m. in the morning, on my hands and knees, I am getting worked up.
“Uh, Miss Blue?” someone says behind me, and I recognize Fiona’s voice. Instantly, I knock my head into the doorframe, jarring it and my head. I jump up to my feet, but I’m off-kilter due to the hit I just took on the doorknob.
I resist muttering in pain.
Fiona doesn’t have to say a word. She’s wondering what the hell I am doing looking into my boss’s office. And I don’t blame her for being curious.
I think fast.
“I was just...looking for the cross on my cross necklace!” I say cheerily to Fiona. She looks back at me with curiosity. “Found it! And I already even reattached it to my necklace.” I hold up my necklace as proof.
Darn. Did I just lie? I hate lying. Now I know this is only a little white lie, but I don’t like those all the same.
My hand shakes as I go to grab my coffee, mustering a smile to flash at Fiona as she sits in her chair. I pick up my hot coffee and hold it in front of my chest, hoping it will steady me.
“Well, that’s a nice necklace,” Fiona says, her eyes examining me. “I’m glad you found it.”
I clam up. Shoot. I don’t think I’ve told a lie since high school. My nervousness makes my hands shake.
“Oh, I uh. Yeah. It’s hot out today.”
“Yes it is,” Fiona says calmly as she fires up her computer. “Hot for early September. Not as hot as August though.”
“Yeah--”
I don’t know where I am going with my sentence, but my hands--for no apparent reason--think I’m holding butter sandwiches and my latté spills right out onto my chest and my white blouse.
“Ahhh!” I scream, and the heat seeps slightly into my skin. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“Oh my God!” Fiona returns imitating me. She jumps up out of her chair. “Are you okay?”
“So hot!” I yell. I set my cup down and frantically try to whip off my blouse.
“What the hell--” booms a deep voice.
“Uff!” I utter as I run into what feels like a brick wall.
Of flesh. A brick wall of flesh.
Oh my God. My heart stops as reality hits me.
I just bumped into my boss, shirtless and with my hands lifted over my head.
Wearing only my bra.
“For the love of God, get in here,” Sebastian says, ushering me into his office. He helps me pull the shirt off, and then it’s as if he realizes the implications of what just happened, when he sees me in just a bra.
“I have an extra shirt.” He turns abruptly, heads to a closet in his room, and pulls down a blue button down.
My heart hammers against my chest, because this man is gorgeous in person. I stare at his six pack abs and the rest of his muscled body up close.
“Put this on for now,” he says. “I’ll have someone go out and get you a new shirt soon. Okay?”
I blink. “Do you...always work out shirtless in the morning?”
“Yes of course. It’s part of my office wellness routine.” He licks his lips, and our eyes linger together for just a little too long. He grabs his shirt, which is draped over his chair, and starts to button it.
“How about another coffee?” Sebastian asks me, putting his hand on my arm. “How do you take yours?”
“I had a vanilla latté.”
“Alright. I’ll tell Fiona.”
He buzzes Fiona through the intercom and tells her my coffee order.
“So,” I say as I reach the top button of my shirt and tuck it in. I’m going to look ridiculous in this, but I suppose it’s better than being naked. “You enjoyed the peep show?”
He buttons the top button of his collar, and begins to tie his tie.
“I should ask you the same question.” He winks, and leans in. “Looking for a cross my ass. Don’t pull your little white lies around here. Remember our little run-in in the restaurant? I see everything.”
A current of electricity runs through my body.
"Sorry. I didn’t mean to spy on you. I didn't think you would be here so early,” I groan, thinking of ways to change the subject. “Hey, I don't look too ridiculous in this thing, do I?" I do a 360-degree spin in his huge shirt.
"You wear it well," he says, then clears his throat. "We'll just spend this first week getting the hang of things. Maybe we'll save the field visits for next week."
Anxious as I am to get started, he's got a point.
Finally, I leave his office, and minutes later Fiona shows up with another coffee. She leads me to my desk, which is in the middle of the floor between a couple of other cubicles. I'm flanked by a middle-aged man whose name is Ted, and a girl, Jackie, who appears to be in her mid-twenties.
"I've got to scoot,” Fiona says after introductions. “Plenty of work to be done this morning. You remember Kim Murphy, right? She’ll be giving you your full orientation this afternoon.”
"Uh, so what should I work on until she gets here?"
"You could do some proactive research on the properties to the west of Blackwell. And I'm sure he'll have some more for you to do, soon. Mr. B's got a full schedule this morning though."
"You can do some of my work!" Jackie says chirpily with a wink.
Fiona walks away, and I get started on my first day.
I do a little research on the properties west of Blackwell, and find out what I had already suspected. Most owners are small farmers with a few residences mixed in as well. I recognize most of the names of the families with ownership. These are people who have been a part of the community for years.
My coworkers seem hard at work, but I have nothing to do. I glance over at Ted, and he’s rubbing his face in what appears to be maximum frustration.
Barely an hour into the morning, and I’m already bored.
A devilish idea hits me, and immediately, I dismiss it because it’s that bad. But the little voice keeps speaking in my ear.
Brett, why don’t you just write a romance novel right now, at work?
It’s a fair point. I don’t have much else better to do at the moment.
I wonder if Blackwell Industries is the kind of company that has software on our computers for tracking what we do.
Nah, I doubt it. It’s too much of a down home place. I decide I’ll just pull up google docs in a browser so I can save it to the cloud and not to my work desktop. If anyone asks me, well, I’ll just tell them I was sending a personal note to a friend.
A very dirty personal note.
I open the document and start writing chapter two of my story, which, incidentally, involves a boss, his young employee, and a coffee incident.
The words flow freely.
I’ll have this first novel done in no time.
Especially with my newfound inspiration.
7
Brett
The first week and a half on the job is mostly uneventful. I get into a nice little daily routine.
I arrive to work earlier than everyone else. Seven is early enough for this, since most of the office rolls in around seven thirty or eight. I check
my emails for around ten or fifteen minutes and take care of anything pressing.
Around seven thirty or eight, I pull up my google doc and write my book for about an hour. As the rest of the office gradually arrives and takes their desks, I smile internally at all of the head nods I get.
Wow, that girl is here so early and working.
Yes, that’s right. I’m working extra hard.
On my romance novel.
And my inspiration, well let’s just say, it doesn’t hurt to have a hot boss on the same floor.
Yes, I admit it--in spite of Sebastian’s asshole-ish reputation, I have a building attraction for how he looks in a suit.
Sebastian’s not there every day, since some days he’s traveling. But on the days he is there, I feel a connection and, on edge isn’t exactly the right term. It’s actually a bit frustrating that I can’t put the right word on how I feel about us.
Friday morning, I’m writing a particularly sexy scene at the beginning of my book. The female hero, who I’ve named Lacy, hasn’t hooked up with her boss Zane yet. But the sexual tension is palpable for Zane and Lacy. It’s a very over-the-top scene about when she drops a pen in his office and does a little bending-and-snapping to get it à la Legally Blonde, the movie with Reese Witherspoon. She turns and gauges his reaction--and catches a little glint of naughtiness in his eye. Zane doesn’t have his tie on today like usual--just a suit coat. And he’s got an extra button that he’s taken down that leaves Lacy wondering if maybe, just maybe she’s got a chance with the man everyone in her world wants.
But the question remains, why would Zane want little Lacy?
I take a sip of my coffee, then sigh deeply and toss my head back a little, resting my hands on the keyboard.
Why am I even writing this novel? Do I really think their romance is realistic? What is it with me and guys in positions of power?
In my mind’s eye, my muse appears. If there ever was a muse in my life for a powerful, attractive man, it’s so obvious who it would be: Sebastian Blackwell.
Sebastian Blackwell, the man who I had a crush on when I worked as a server at age fifteen and he was the owner of the restaurant.
The only billionaire Blackwell has ever had to my knowledge. He’s got it all--young, rich, and handsome.
I consider the next words I’m writing in my book, and I wonder, really: what makes a man like Sebastian settle down? Does he just look for the hottest woman available and date her, like the Instagram model Crystal showed me? Or is there something else he takes into consideration?
I glance at the clock on my computer. Eight-twenty. Not quite enough time to write another full scene before the others in the office arrive. Should Lacy and Zane hook up already?
No. I’m going to toy with them a little bit more. I’ll just end this scene with some heavy sexual tension.
As I begin to type the scene, the air goes out of me when I hear the voice behind me.
“What are you working on, Brett?”
I whip my head around and see Sebastian standing holding his coffee, smirking ever so slightly.
“Excuse me?” I say, trying not to gasp.
“I said you’re here early. You always are. It’s impressive. You’d be surprised how few employees even come in one minute earlier than they have to. So I’m just curious what you’re working on.”
“I was...checking on some emails, and I sort of figured I’d write a report,” I say, doing my best to contain my nervousness and shaky voice.
“Oh,” he says, his voice still full of that deep morning timbre. “What sort of report?”
I feel my face tingle a little as I hesitate.
“It’s a document detailing the themes that Blackwell farmers are most likely to open us to us about. Like, a cheat sheet,” I lie.
“Oh. A cheat sheet. Well thank you for your extra effort.”
“Anything for you.”
“Is everything going well with Bob? He can be a handful, I know. But he means well.”
I minimize the document I’m working on so my emails show up, then spin out of my chair and stand up, grabbing a pen out of nervousness. “Bob’s fine,” I say. “I sometimes get confused by his directions, though.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
“Well.” I shrug, fiddling with the pen. “Like the twenty-calls-every-morning rule. It makes no sense to me. We don’t track the numbers to make sure they are in the system. I could literally call twenty of my friends--making sure they have the Blackwell county area code--and I’d have my calls done for the day. Obviously I don’t do that. But I think when we’re talking about dealing with these small town farmers, we don’t want to be barraging them with phone calls. We’re better off having quality conversations and getting to know them.”
Sebastian doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, as if checking to make sure I’m done speaking. He has a habit of being silent for a few beats after I--or most people--finish their sentences. This puts me on edge, so I keep talking.
“So, I get to work early just to make sure I’m in a relaxed mood and have my emails done, so I can worry about the calls. They stress me out a little, if I’m being honest.”
Sebastian nods. “Cold calling can be tough. But you were hired for a reason. You’re spectacular with people. I’m sure you get that all the time, though.”
My cheeks flush red and I twirl the pen in my hand even harder.
“Thanks,” is all I say. We share a moment in silence.
Sebastian’s dark brown eyes flash around the sales floor. He takes another drink of coffee, and his neck flexes. I wonder if he’s stressed out. How could a man run a multi-billion dollar enterprise and not be stressed out?
Yet he seems so calm and collected all the time.
It’s an ungodly attractive combination. I take another sip of my coffee.
Sebastian stares into me with his mocha brown eyes.
And I stare back at him.
Shoot. I panic a little, silently. Am I being awkward? He knows I was looking at him before in his office. Can he know I have a little baby crush on him?
No. Just because he’s a billionaire doesn’t mean he can read minds. He’s probably this nice to all of his employees.
My pen-twirling starts to break records, and I drop the thing on the carpet, right at Sebastian’s feet.
Without thinking, I bend down to grab it, and before I have the time to realize what I’m doing, my face is damn near in Sebastian’s crotch as I pick the thing up.
I don’t think he sees it, but my jaw drops a little as I get up close and personal with his thing.
That’s gotta be the pleats. No way is that his...cucumber.
And then I swear it moves. Something between his legs moves.
I snap my head back up, and for a brief second, our eyes meet.
“My pen fell,” is all I can say, and I do my best not to let a look of absolute fright take over.
Sebastian smirks. “Brett, I don’t even know what to do with you.” He shakes his head and laughs, his laughter booming through the floor. A few other employees glance over.
“You can give me a raise since I’m awesome.” I wink, trying to distract our conversation from the fact that I just clearly checked out my boss’s crotch.
“I think you’re the one who’ll be giving me a raise.” He winks, and as if realizing what he just insinuated, he quickly follows it up. “By closing some deals this week!”
“I should get back to work,” he says. “But I’m serious about this, Brett. If you ever need anything--you just let me know. I realize the sales floor is eighty percent male, and sometimes the guys can be a bit much. I want you to be as comfortable as possible here, so you can do your thing. You’ve got a lot of talent. I can’t teach talent. But I can maximize it. I’m serious--my door is always open. For anything you need.”
“Anything?” I say, my heart beating faster than it should be.
“Anything.” He glances over his shoulder and rakes a hand
through his hair. “I gotta go. See you later, Killer.”
I spin back into my chair, my heart beating a million miles a minute. Was I imagining it, or was that conversation laced with some serious flirtation?
I pull my novel back up with a sigh.
Lacy is so sexy and smooth when she bends and snaps. Why am I so dang awkward?
I guess real life is never as smooth as romance novels.
I glance around the office one more time, and the cubicles around me are still mostly empty. Probably because it’s a Friday, people are taking their time arriving to work. Good. Because what I’m about to do, no one can see.
I run a hand up my thighs, under my skirt. I touch my panties, and my suspicion is confirmed.
I’m not just wet. I’m soaked through.
This is going to be an interesting work day.
8
Sebastian
“Your shih tzu is taking a shit,” Liam says, glancing at me with a smug look.
“I’m sure that’s a joke that’s never ever been made before,” I say, trying not to crack a smile.
“Yeah? So what? It’s still hilarious.”
Sundays, I usually do something with my family. This morning, I meet up with my brother Liam and we walk a couple of dogs from the local dog shelter around town. Today we stroll around the campus quad of Blackwell University.
“And your lab is...labbing? Fuck. It doesn’t work the other way.” I shake my head as I stare down the dog Liam snagged.
“That’s right. My dog is fucking awesome. Yes you are Shiloh!” He pets the chocolate lab and the dog gets into it, wagging his tail out of control. “Just admit I’m the king of dirty dog puns. Bow at how good of a master I am.”
“You know, it’s good I have a brother like you,” I say as I tie off the doggie bag and toss it in a nearby trash can. “If not, I’d probably get a big head.”
“You do have a big head.” Liam winks. “I mean literally.”
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