Lucky Bunny

by Eva Luxe

  “Thanks, Erin,” I say with as much sincerity as I can muster, even though she hadn’t introduced herself to me.

  She manages a half smile. I smile back as I think, damn, something must have crawled up your ass and died. Thank God, I’m not working for you. My goodness.

  I look back at her after I start walking, a bad habit really, and then I see that she’s watching me walk.

  I immediately become self-conscious and feel around to make sure I’d tucked in my blouse in my hurry this morning. Yes, it’s tucked in.

  I smooth my hair with one hand and resist the urge to turn around again to see if Erin is still looking. She’s probably just messing with the new girl, and if so, what a bitch.

  It’s probably a good thing my thoughts are stuck in my head and have no way of being broadcast. If I had Tourette’s Syndrome or some other affliction that forced me to say what is forbidden, on any given day of my life, I’d surely lose friends. That I’m certain of, if nothing else in this moment.

  After making a complete circle of the Penthouse floor, I finally end up back where I’d started from. I’m so embarrassed, but then I’m relieved to see the male receptionist stand up and walk in my direction, before Erin— who is busy answering phones again— has a chance to notice.

  “I’m sorry some of us are so rude,” he scoffs, under his breath. “Let me show you the way. Clearly since you’re new here someone should have escorted you, but someone did not.”

  He glares at Erin, who luckily is still distracted on the phones. She doesn’t care that he’s talking shit about her, and I’m glad she doesn’t seem to notice that I’m a little lost sheep.

  I follow him down the hallway— a totally different one than I had taken the first time— and he says, “I’m Claude, and that was Erin. I’m sorry she’s so rude. Welcome to Marks, Sanchez and Reed. And Mack.”

  He adds the last part as an afterthought.

  “The Mack is new to the name,” he explains, gesturing around as if a new presence had invaded the law firm. “And so is Erin. Garrett Mack recently joined the firm; he was a solo practitioner but his dad is a bigwig, if not nearly senile, partner here who pulled some strings for him to come.”

  He looks at me expectantly, probably wondering how much of this I already know. I don’t really know any of it aside from what a cursory Google search revealed, so I nod at him, encouraging him to continue filling me in, which he does.

  “Plus, he has money and good cases, and for some reason— probably because they like increasing the workload of all of us staff— the original partners decided they want to venture out into plaintiffs’ cases, which is what Garrett does,” Claude continues.

  His slight French accent clips the end of his words, making everything he says sound prettier than the subject matter deserves.

  “Erin came with him, and at first I wasn’t sure why, because as you can tell, as receptionists go, she’s not the friendliest,” he says, making me giggle. “But don’t worry, she grows on you and ends up being quite nice to people she likes. I’m sure she’ll like you.”

  He smiles at me, but in a sincere way, and not as if he’s hitting on me. I’m pretty sure he’s gay. I’m glad he’s helped me out and I hope I can ask him the questions I’m sure I’ll have later.

  “Well, here you go, Miss Carolina,” he says, pointing to an office. “Have a great first day.”

  He heads back to the lobby from where we started off. And here it is, right in front of me— my destination— as evidenced by the words on the office door just beyond the men’s room.

  This is it. The start of a new life. Let’s hope I don’t screw it up too much.

  Chapter 8 – Carolina

  I stare at the gold letters that spell out Garrett Mack’s name on the plaque. I can’t believe I’m going to work for someone bringing so much money and clout to the firm, whether it be as his fancy schmancy executive assistant or his regular old fashioned secretary.

  I’m running my fingers over the raised lettering on the plaque, trying to get up the courage to knock, when I hear a loud voice chastising someone inside, someone I can only assume is Garrett. I can barely make out the words, but I hear the important parts loud and clear.

  “Garrett, I can’t believe you’ve gone and done this behind the partners’ backs like this. We told you, male assistants only. We know you have designs on her. You have got to start thinking with your brain and not your dick. It’s just not in fashion, not these days. I’m not about to go down for your dalliances in a sexual harassment suit. Do you hear me? It’s not acceptable to be a cad, not today, and it’s certainly not a welcome look for the firm.”

  Another voice that I assume is Garrett’s is quick to shoot back, “Oh, Asher. You’re overreacting. How can it be that it was acceptable to be a cad back when you met Madilyn, but now it’s this big horrible thing that no one except for you is allowed to be?”

  “We’ve discussed this,” the other person— Asher, apparently— shoots back. “It was not acceptable when I did it and we want to make sure the firm is protected. You said you understood, and agreed.”

  “I did, and I do,” Garrett says back. “Sure, the new girl’s attractive based on her photographs, but I won’t do anything with her at work. I’ve learned my lesson. And what I do during my off time quite frankly isn’t any of the goddamned partners’ business.”

  Should I have been hearing this?

  “Garrett, you know better than that.”

  “I know, I know. It was just a joke. I’m not going to see her off the clock either. Lighten up.”

  “This is no laughing matter. You have been warned, my friend.”

  I take this as my opening and tap on the door ever so lightly. I’d considered running away, but, knowing my luck— which is always bad— Erin will find me in the hallway and report me to Garrett as too dumb to work here. So I figured I had no choice but to get it over with and make my entrance now.

  Someone yells, “Come in!”

  But I’m so nervous that I stand frozen— partly because I’m afraid of interrupting the heated discussion and partly because I feel I need to be very careful in this place— this law office.

  Everything is so formal, so expensive, so intense— the furniture, the artwork, the gold lettering, the personnel. There’s even a wall of Faberge eggs encased in a glass display right behind the reception area couch.

  And although I was distracted by Erin’s frizzy black hair and slightly crooked teeth, I had managed to notice the signed paintings on the wall of the lobby. They are the real deal. I gulp hard.

  Then I hear, “I said, come in!”

  Oh, no. I’ve already destroyed my first impression. And as Martha back in Stone always told me, I only get one of those.

  I start to push the door open and it swings back.

  There’s an old man standing on the other side of it and he extends his hand to me and smiles back at Garrett, as if approving of me as his latest hire. I feel like the old guy is undressing me with his eyes, so I tug at my pencil skirt nervously.

  “Lester Mack,” he says, as I shake his hand.

  I get it. This is my new boss’s father. The reason that Claude told me Garrett has joined forces with the firm.

  Then, Lester says to Garrett, “As I said, we never settle in court, but in life, well, that’s quite a different story, my friend. Settling, essentially taming the rebellion, going from boy to man, now that can be a beautiful transition.”

  I remember how Claude said Lester is half senile and everything falls into place. At the same time, the other man standing up beside the couch where a third man— I presume Garrett— is sitting, says, “Lester, thank you but you may leave now.”

  Garrett says, “Yes, thanks Dad, we don’t need you in here any more.”

  Lester ignores them, instead turning to me and saying, “And you must be the beautiful Carolina Abbott. Welcome.”

  I stammer a thank you, and as he walks past me he says over his shoulder, “
Garrett, we’ll talk later.”

  “Yes,” Garrett says, and then he nods at the remaining man in the office. “You, too, Asher. We’ll talk later.”

  Asher follows Lester out, stopping to shake my hand. He’s attractive, but not as attractive to me as Garrett is. I notice a wedding ring. And then, after we’ve both introduced ourselves, Asher is gone too, and it’s just my new boss and me.

  I stand in the door frame and something quite odd happens. I seem to lose my breath. I look at Garrett, perched on an ultra-modern, gray upholstered lounge-style couch. The kind with sleek wooden legs.

  My God, he is gorgeous. I just stand staring, unable to speak.

  I already knew from his profile on the State Bar Association website that he was good looking and powerful. I knew from our phone call that his voice sounded important. And now I know he wanted to get with me—at least according to the other attorney, Asher, who was yelling at him just now.

  A shiver runs down my spine as I think about all the ways this man— my new boss— could defile me, and I’m in need of a good defilement, having gone so long without anything close. It’s enough to make a girl weak in the knees and wet in the panties.

  I try to shake the forbidden thoughts out of my head. I need to focus on the here and now, and on what Garrett is doing.

  He had begun to speak into a recorder— dictating some notes, I assume—but now he put it down. He has one leg crossed on top of the other, and my eyes immediately go to his leather brown shoes. They look very expensive. Then my eyes have no choice but to travel to the slightly bulging package underneath his slacks.

  He glances up, and I feel like my legs might give way under me. This isn’t a Taylor type of attraction. He isn’t a bad boy in high school who makes me wet just by squinting and scowling.

  No, this is different. Garrett is exquisite. He’s probably twenty years my senior, with gray wavy hair and brown tortoiseshell glasses framing dark brown hair. He smiles, and I think, Carolina, focus. Focus. This is not the time to get lost.

  But it’s too late.

  I take a slight step forward and he introduces himself, although I’m not really listening. I picture myself pulling his glasses off, uncrossing his legs, and straddling his bulging package right here and now. I want to grind on him and ride him into oblivion.

  Something electric is happening. I examine his sparkling blue eyes and perfect crow’s feet… and suddenly his voice snaps me out of my stupor. The instant attraction I feel for him will have to wait. He is my new boss, after all. But the chemistry is real, and undeniable.

  Is it the power? Is it his apparent millions— perhaps billions? All I know is that I had never felt quite like this so immediately. I am overcome.

  Chapter 9 – Carolina

  “Carolina Abbott, I presume?”

  Did he just say, I presume?

  I inhale.

  This is all too much. Normally, I would think that was such a pretentious thing to say, but right now, it is perfect and very sexy.

  “Um, yes. Yes, sir. I am Carolina Abbott. That would be me. I made it.”

  I want to roll my eyes into the back of my head with embarrassment— I sound like such an airhead— but I simply smile, and try to continue, although I’m totally tongue-tied.

  “Beautiful… Um, beautiful office. And eggs.”

  “Eggs?”

  “Uh, yeah. The display… Faberge Eggs?”

  “Oh, yes. Thank you. That was my addition to the office decoration actually. Family heirloom. Thank you. So, Carolina. Carolina, yes… You are quite strangely a surprise. I have never hired anyone without first meeting the hire, but yes, you are a strange surprise.”

  What exactly does he mean by that?

  “Uh, have a seat. Welcome. You will have your own office, of course, which I will happily show you a little later, but for now let’s go over some initial basics—how I like to do things, my clients, that sort of thing.”

  I’m trying to keep up, but I’m still hearing, “I will happily show you…”

  I sit in a client chair on the furthest side of the office and realize from his expression that he thinks my choice of seat is weird.

  “Oh, should I sit closer?” I immediately ask him. “I mean…”

  “No, if you’re comfortable over there, I guess that’s fine. But this chaise is pretty big, and we have a lot to go over so…”

  He half smiles. I am off to a great start. If I had a hammer, I’d hit my own head with it.

  “Of course, sir. I’ll move closer.”

  “You know, you can call me Garrett. I love the formality, certainly. It’s disarming, so thank you for that, but no need. Garrett is just fine, Carolina.”

  Seriously, disarming? I love his eccentric word choice. I just want to jump on him. I can’t take it.

  The attraction is more than palpable. I feel like there is a string between us, and someone is pulling it more and more taut until there is nothing left to do but simply let our lips meet.

  But despite the apparent fever that threatens to ruin any ounce of professionalism left in me, I move over to the couch and sit next to him. I hope and pray I can keep it together.

  “Great, that’s better,” he says. “I don’t have to scream. Wow. That’s nice.”

  I look at him, confused. He is suddenly looking in the direction of my chest, so instead of calling any attention to it, I just stare straight ahead. What is he referring to?

  He lowers his voice. “Your heart. That’s extremely beautiful.”

  My heart. Oh, my God. This isn’t happening.

  Then it occurs to me that he’s referring to the platinum charm necklace that Jake had bought me. I look down and place my hand on the charm.

  “Oh, thank you. My… ex-husband… bought it for me. That bastard. But I love it. It holds a special place. In my heart, like you just said.”

  What is wrong with me? Why did I just share that much? And why can’t my brain seem to make my mouth form the words it wants to say?

  This man is having a real effect on me, clearly. It occurs to me as I look up to see him smiling and almost half winking, that the flirting might be mutual. Could it really be only me feeling this way? Or is he giving it back?

  I smile sweetly, and finally he gets down to business.

  “I assume you met Erin.”

  I nod, attempting to appear neutral. But my face must give away my mild disdain.

  “Oh, she is a tough one at first, but don’t get on her bad side. She’s a great gal. And listen, she is the glue here. If you need anything, she knows it. Trust me.”

  “Got it.”

  “I just want to go over a few of our current accounts. And you already filled out a ‘conflicts list,’ right?”

  “Yes. Prior to starting.”

  “Great.”

  He picks up a manila file from a credenza near the couch. My eyes roam back to his crotch. I can’t help it. It looks big, like nearly bulging out of his pants. I seem to have no choice but to wonder exactly how big it really is and wish I could see it naked, feel it inside me.

  He says, “Did you have a hard time finding us?”

  “Well, uh, first I had to move here. And then I couldn’t seem to make it out of the parking garage, let alone the…”

  I trail off, willing myself to shut up. He doesn’t need to know all of this. He was just asking to be polite.

  “Anyway, I found you,” I tell him. “And I am really excited to be here, sir—uh, Garrett— and very prepared, of course, to do you well.”

  I almost throw up in my mouth as I hear myself blathering on. Did I just say I’m prepared to do him well? Obviously, that was not at all the word choice for which I was aiming.

  He smiles and wipes his lips with his hand in a kind of embarrassed and cute way. He lifts the folders off his lap ever so deliberately.

  “I mean to, um, represent you well,” I correct myself. “I am quite adept at organization and business in general. So, this is the perfect match…
”

  I just stop finally. I just give up on the act of speaking. It’s bad. I’m at the edge of the cliff. There is no going back.

  “Absolutely. Well, you will do well, I am sure of it,” he says, graciously acting as if I wasn’t just committing word murder. “We’ll go over some key things today and most of the morning tomorrow, and then you’ll be on your own.”

  I nod, although I don’t really like the sound of that. I’m sure I’ll have a lot I need shown to me still. And I also don’t like the thought of being outside of his very presence. I wish I could just sit here next to him on this couch forever.

  “I’ll let you sit with Erin a bit to learn the phones too, so you know how we like them answered, or how I prefer it done anyway. Because when I’m not in the office you’ll be answering my phone for me personally,” he continues. “The various partners are different, and I will certainly introduce you. You have met my father, old Lester. He’s a hoot. He doesn’t do much actual work these days, and Ruby often gets him whatever he needs, even though, as Ron’s wife, she’s progressed to more important tasks. He always liked her when she was a lowly floater, and she doesn’t mind getting him his newspaper or Earl Gray tea or whatever he needs now and then. You haven’t met Ron yet. Nor many of the other partners. But whatever the case, you work for me, so none of that really matters. If you remember at least that much for the next week, you will do me well.”

  He smiles.

  Oh, this Garrett Mack is cheeky.

  He and I might be a match made in dirty girl heaven, I think, again sans Tourette’s. I have to thank the universe for special favors. I contemplate how brilliantly and authoritatively he had said, “you work for me.”

  Him and only him. And for that I’m very grateful.

  He leans in with such fire and determination, I almost fall on top of him. But I manage to keep it together. I lower my voice and let a little of the sexy girl come out. I uncross my legs and cross them the other direction and then whisper in a raspy voice, “I am very clear on that, Garrett.”