“Don’t you think you’re a little over qualified to be a Personal Assistant?” he remarked. It wasn’t condescending, but, rather, curiosity that laced his tone.
Quite honestly, I did, but I would never tell him that. “No, sir, I believe that everyone has to start somewhere, no matter if their background dictates otherwise. I may not want to go flip burgers for a living, but I would never degrade a Personal Assistant job. I have goals and aspirations, and this job would help me achieve them.”
I patted myself on the back for that one. I was calm and articulate the entire time he stared me down, and not once, but, twice I thought I saw a flicker in his eye with my speech. It almost looked as if he was undressing me with his eyes. It was slightly unnerving, but I held my gaze. Maybe my dad was right, maybe he was a pig.
“Mr. Porter, I admire what you do here and I truly believe I could be an asset to you and the company. I work hard and I am thorough—”
“Don’t you think you’re tooting your own horn a little too much Ms. Hightower?” he growled, cutting me off effectively.
I blanched. Had I been doing that? Was I trying to impress him? I mean, this was a job interview, shouldn’t I tell them my best attributes? I looked at him slightly confused. What should I say now? This man was such a contradiction. I could tell from his demeanor that he demanded excellence in all things, and I had no problem giving it my all, but, when I tried to tell him as much, he cut me off and called me conceited…
“I asked you a question, Charlotte.” Mr. Porter’s tone broke me from my analysis, his gaze penetrating into me. The use of my name confused the hell out of me. I’m sure if I got the job he would normally call me Charlotte or Charlie, but I wasn’t prepared for the informality in an interview.
“I, I—uh…” I stammered out, but couldn’t finish my sentence. The way he said my name was both hot and downright scary. I blushed, and thought I saw his lip turn up in a tight smile, but it instantly vanished. I was mortified, but I couldn’t quite figure out why. What about this man affected me so much?
“Since you seem too good to answer my question, perhaps this interview is over”, he said in a snarl. I watched him stand up at his desk, effectively dismissing me, and re-buttoning his suit jacket. If looks could kill, I’d be dead on the spot. I guess his use of my name made no difference anymore. I’d failed the interview before it even got started.
I stood, fighting back the overwhelming need to cry. Lowering my head, I grabbed my purse and headed towards the door. Before I got there though, I turned around to see him staring at me. “I’m sorry sir, that I wasted your time. Thank you for the interview.”
This time I know I saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes at my words. As I turned back towards to door to see myself out, I heard a slam on the desk, presumably where he hit it with his fist, before he shouted, “Be here at 8am on Monday!”
Chapter 2
I stood waiting for the elevator in complete shock. What in the hell just happened? One second the man was telling me I was an arrogant show off, and the next, I was his Personal Assistant. He was definitely going to keep me on my toes, that’s for sure. I found him absolutely beguiling, not at all charming, and wickedly hot. I was going to have to be incredibly careful around him. Once in the elevator I looked at my reflection again, remembering that, just a little under an hour ago, I had looked at just plain Charlie Hightower. Now I was looking at Charlotte Hightower, Personal Assistant to Alex Porter of Porter Industries. Knowing I was alone in the elevator, I couldn’t help the little giddy dance that came out of me. I was employed, at a real, “grown up” job. I had to make sure to call my mom when I got home. She would be so proud.
Elizabeth Hightower had been my pillar of strength growing up. She was the best mom anyone could ever ask for. Even after my parents split up and mom was left with almost no money, she never failed to buy me anything I needed. She stood her ground on paying for my education over my wealthy mogul of a dad. I knew she couldn’t afford it, and, although it left me feeling guilty, I loved her for it. I looked up to Lizzie Hightower. She was strong, and I loved her so much. When I went to college, my mom had moved back to New Jersey to be closer to my grandparents. I missed her terribly, but I knew that was where she needed to be. I visited at least once a year and stayed a few days with her.
When I got to the ground floor I had a little pep in my step, nearly forgetting the intensity of Alex Porter. I shook my head, because I really didn’t want to think of that or of him. I got the job and, honestly, that was all that mattered. Perhaps Mr. Porter was having a bad day and he wasn’t normally so aggressive? Well, whatever the reason, I knew I would do a good job for him and maybe his attitude would change as he noticed my willingness to go above and beyond.
Grabbing my phone out of my purse and turning it on, I saw a few missed messages:
From- Mom (609)555-5185
10:27am
Good Luck today sweetheart, I love you so much and I know you will get the job. Let me know how it goes!!
“Oh, mom, I love you too”, I murmured as I opened the next message.
From- Danny (951)555-8454
10:30am
Kick ass today!
Straight to the point, that’s my bestie. I sent him a quick message back telling him I was on my way home and hit the send button, but, within 15 seconds, I had to glance down at my vibrating palm with a laugh. I clicked the phone opened and hit receive.
“Danny, I said I was on my way home, you goofball! You can’t wait an hour?”
“You know I can’t, baby girl. Spill it!” I heard his excitement at the other end of the line, which prompted a huge grin to lift the corners of my mouth. Danny was infectious, and always knew how to make me smile and laugh.
“You can just call me the Personal Assistant of Mr. Alexander Porter!” I screeched into the phone, jumping up and down inside.
I know I was probably being a little loud, and that was confirmed when the valet attendant raised his eyebrows at me in a speculative manner, but I shrugged it off as I handed him my validated ticket. I wasn’t going to let him damper my mood. I may not know how I got the job, but I did, and I was ecstatic. With a shrug of the shoulders he took my ticket and went to locate my keys and my car.
“I knew you would Charlie! You’re too damn smart for your own good!” I frowned at his comment and I knew he could see it through the phone. “Charlotte, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I blurted out, “The interview was just really intense. Can I explain when I get home? My car just pulled up.” I watched as the valet put the car in park and hopped out.
“A Valet, huh? I hope hotshot Porter paid for that,” he said mockingly.
“Of course he did,” I laughed, as I silently slipped the guy a twenty dollar bill for the tip and jumped in. “I’ll see you soon, Danny.”
“Bye, baby girl.”
Hanging up the phone and tossing it into the passenger seat, I checked my mirrors, put on my seatbelt, and headed for the direction of home. I didn’t want to linger on the interview anymore, but I knew Danny would give me the third degree as soon as I pulled into my spot. I decided I would enjoy my drive home, so I lowered my sunglasses and hit the power windows, letting the breeze whip me in the face and refresh me.
The freeway was, again, surprisingly light, and I made it back in about an hour. Everything looked so much better when you were gainfully employed and I intended to make the most out of my day.
Walking through my apartment door, I found Danny standing there with a bouquet of beautiful sunflowers and a bottle of wine. He looked so sharp in his khakis and polo shirt, but my mind kept drifting back to my new boss. Danny may be a gorgeous man, but Alex Porter resembled a demigod. What Danny and other men had to work diligently for, or sell their souls to achieve, came effortlessly to my boss, and I licked my lips thinking about him. Damn, he was really hot.
“CONGRATULATIONS, BABY GIRL!!” he yelled at me, pulling me from my erotic thoughts. I couldn
’t help but jump up and down at the excitement emanating all around me. Danny put down the flowers and the wine and clasped my hands, jumping with me and laughing all the way around the apartment. I felt amazing, and with a light heart, I thought about how it was nice to have someone to share these feelings with. Danny was just as happy as I was.
Once we calmed down and stopped our jumping long enough to catch our breath, Danny grabbed the wine and popped the cork, reminding me of the crazy interview in the process. “So, you said ‘intense’, can you please elaborate on that?” When I looked at him, he was smirking at me in typical Danny fashion. He was asking me the question in true interview fashion.
He sat patiently, sipping his wine, waiting for my response. All at once, I was popped back into that office with Mr. Money Bags glaring at me. I shook my head to rid the thought; it had been intense. How did I explain to Danny that he scared me to my core and frayed my nerves, but I wanted to jump his bones all at the same time? It was pretty mind boggling.
“I don’t know, Danny. One minute, he was so professional, and the next minute, he looked like he wanted to hit something or someone. I couldn’t keep focused, and he was SO INTIMIDATING.” I shook my head, conjuring the image of his eyes when I first arrived. The intense anger radiating from them had scared me, but, quickly, my mind had been filled with ridiculous lustful thoughts about my interviewer. There was seriously something wrong with me. I hadn’t felt like this in a very long time, and it scared me.
“But?” Danny said reading my thoughts before I could vocalize them. He knew me better than most.
“Danny–that man was H. O. T. Like scalding, lava hot. The things I could do to that man…” I giggled. So did Danny. I knew I probably shouldn’t be thinking about my boss like that, but I couldn’t help it. He may scare the crap out of me, but I can appreciate the opposite sex. Besides, I’m Ms. DayDream Queen 2015, which meant I could fantasize all I liked. It’s not like he’d ever know. The thought that he did know brought unwelcome into my thoughts and I squished it down. He wasn’t a damn mind reader, even though a few times it seemed as such.
Grabbing my laptop, Danny plopped on the couch. “Let’s Google him,” he said, pulling up the search engine and typing in his name. I waited patiently for the results to populate and his image to fill the screen. I wasn’t disappointed, and I clearly hadn’t been exaggerating in my description.
A half an hour later and a full bottle of wine, I forgot all about the interview as we browsed through google images of Alexander Porter. The paparazzi apparently stalked him because every image was a different side of him. In front of a restaurant with casual jeans and a polo, outside in front of a red carpet event in a full black and white tuxedo, and even one of him on the beach. I had to pick my jaw up off the floor on the last one. It looked as if he had just come out of the water and shook his head. His brown hair dripped with salty water which traveled down his naked torso and stuck to the smattering of chest hair he had. The orange and red sunset behind him framed his muscles and gave him a look of pure perfection. The sand clung to his feet, which were also beautiful, as he walked towards the camera. He belonged in the beach edition of GQ. I couldn’t help but feel my body react to this picture. He was making me hot, and embarrassingly wet. What was WRONG with me? I’d never been turned on like this before. Ever.
As if on cue and reading my thoughts again, Danny piped in “Damn, Charlie, I am jealous you get to be around that all day. You’d better enjoy it!” he winked at me. My cheeks heated again. I had never blushed so much in my life.
“Enjoy what, Danny? He’s my boss! Even if I wanted to hop into bed with him, I wouldn’t. Hell, I couldn’t, and I sure as shit know he wouldn’t. I bet he has hundreds of women, flaunting themselves daily at him. Who the hell am I?” I looked down, staring at my hands. I was feeling insecure all of a sudden and I didn’t like it.
Sure, I could dream of the things I would do with him, but, as I’d just told Danny, he’d never find me interesting or attractive anyways. Besides, something told me that messing with Alex Porter was the equivalent of poking a very angry bear repeatedly.
“You, baby girl, are Charlotte Hightower, the sexiest, prettiest girl in the Inland Empire!” he proclaimed, “Any man would be a fool not to see that. Besides, I think you’re off the hook. There’s not one picture of him with another woman. My money says he plays on the pink team. Come to think of it, you should introduce us!” He laughed, his eyes glazing over. I knew him well enough to know he was visualizing his large wedding with my boss. Danny was not much of a daydreamer, preferring to live in the here and now, but every once in awhile, something would snag his imagination and he’d take off into lala land.
Grinning, I grabbed the pillow next to me and threw it at his face. “Alex Porter is not gay, and I am not introducing you two!” I ducked when he threw it back at me and pouted. He knew Alex wasn’t gay just as much as I did. We both had gaydar that was unlike any other. We could spot them a mile away.
The rest of the evening was a mixture of alcohol, celebrating, and arguing over the sexuality of Mr. Alex Porter. We ordered in Chinese food for dinner and snuggled up on the couch for a sentimental chick flick that had us both bawling at the end, effectively making me forget Mr. Hot and Dangerous.
Danny was the first to crash half way into chick flick number two, and I made sure to ease myself off the couch so as not to disturb him. I covered him up with the large crocheted blanket my mom made us and made my way to my own room. Deciding I needed to jump in the shower to ease the sudden tension in my shoulders, I stripped off my slacks and my blouse, grabbed a change of panties from the drawer, and headed for the shower.
I loved my apartment. We had dual master bedrooms, each with its own bathroom and shower. My room was to the left of the entrance and Danny’s to the right. I loved Danny with all my heart but I didn’t need to hear when he brought home a notch in his bedpost. In the middle of the apartment was the living room, the kitchen was in the far back left corner, and there was a breakfast bar looking into the dining room. The living room was modestly designed with a brown leather sectional and Ikea coffee tables. Danny and I were both slightly eccentric, so it was no surprise that we had a multitude of colors decorating the entire living room. Our dining room consisted of a small glass table with four different kinds of chairs in different colors circling it. It was warm, it was comfortable, it was home.
I turned the hot water on full blast and dipped my hand under the spout to check and make sure it was warm enough. Once it heated to my preference I stepped in and let the hot water glide over me. It turned my skin red and made my nipples pucker. As the tension of the day washed over me with the water, one image popped into my head. Alex Porter. Why was I thinking about him again? I tried shaking him off, but he just stayed there like a concrete statue. I knew eventually the novelty of him would wear off, but that beach photo was fresh in mind and I couldn’t stop my hand from dipping down to graze my swollen nipple.
Tossing my head back, I let myself visualize what it might be like to have my hand replaced by his. I felt myself grow increasingly wet between my legs as I slid my hand farther down my front. When my fingers reached their destination, at the apex of my thighs, one solitary digit brushed across my swollen nub, causing me to shiver and relax at the same time. I lifted my leg and propped it up to the lip of the tub as I continued to lightly massage my clit. I can’t remember ever being so turned on in my life. With my right hand, I continued the onslaught, and, with my left, I tugged and pulled at my nipple. I felt what was coming and increased my tempo, keeping my thumb in place and dipping one finger into my wet channel.
A moan escaped my lips, followed by one word, Alex. The thought of his hands on my body almost had me exploding right then, but I forced myself to slow down and enjoy the sensation and the dream. One of the best parts of daydreaming was that you could imagine anything, nothing was off limits.
Alex slowly, sensually caressed my neck, leaving trails of k
isses down my torso. Light flicks of his tongue over my nipples sent vibrations down my body, heightening my already tingling nerves. Grabbing my hips and getting down onto his knees, he kissed the inside of my inner thighs, purposely making me wait. “Alex, please…” I heard myself whisper. Gliding up my thighs into the heat, he gingerly lapped at my essence while gliding a single finger into my wet sex—
The thought was like an icy bucket of water thrown on me. Would he know my secret? No one did, not even my beloved bestie. I was officially cooled off, as well as embarrassed. Struggling to catch my breath and to shake off the fear, I shut off the water and reached for my towel. I hadn’t even shampooed my hair, but the fear washed over me like a tidal wave.
I needed to get into bed, under my down comforter, and go to sleep. Preferably without any tears, but I knew that it was a wasted effort. I would go to bed tonight, crying myself to sleep like I had so often the last few years. Why did I still let it affect me so? Many years of therapy told me it wasn’t my fault, but I knew it was. I was damaged goods. I had brought this upon myself, and every day I would have to live it over and over again. That thought alone was enough to start the faucet of tears that would take a while to shut off.
With the soft glow of the moonlight filling my room through my window, I glanced around. This was my safe haven and I didn’t want to let anything break that, but I knew it was inevitable. My past and my horrors haunted me and traveled with me no matter where I moved. I slipped into my flannel turtle print PJ’s while trying to hold it together. I washed my face and brushed my teeth, willing my emotionally torn body into the bed. I sank underneath the covers just as the floodgates opened, hoping Danny wouldn’t hear my cries.
Chapter 3
Just A Man (The Porter Trilogy Book 1) Page 2