by Wright,Lulu
Jack presses his lips together before he speaks, and the butterflies in my stomach go berserk. “Her performance,” he says slowly as he turns his eyes to me. I feel like I’m about to explode. Not in a good way this time. “Has been vigorous.” He arches an eyebrow. What the hell is that supposed to mean?
I narrow my eyes right back at him.
But he’s nodding away at Brenda like he’s totally innocent, and not toying with fire at all. “She’s an eager beaver. Ambitious. Very, very ambitious …”
I see a sparkle in Jack’s eyes and I fight the urge to slap him.
“Good.” Brenda smiles, but she glances at my messy fixtures once more and the smile vanishes. “As I was asking, Lily …”
My heart leaps to my throat.
“The fixtures today are my fault,” Jack interrupts. “I asked L … Miss Brook to start late today so we could discuss the floor moves. I should have arranged for someone to restock this morning in her absence.” Jack tries to catch my eye. I avoid his glance.
Why is he covering for me if he acted like such an asshole earlier?
“Her floor plan as you can see is ambitious,” Jack continues.
Stop using that word, I want to shout. But I’m blushing too badly to be able to speak. If I do, Brenda will definitely notice something is up between us.
“I love ambition,” the buyer at Jack’s side breaks in. “Especially on the floor.” She’s probably about my age, but her corporate dress code makes her seem so much more grown up than me. Her black pant suit hugs her curves, yet remains sharp and stylish. “For Mr. Hamilton’s visit, we want to pick your brain, Lily.”
“Pick my brain?” A compliment like this from a buyer is rare and my mood improves. I actually produce a real honest to goodness smile on my face.
“You have demonstrated what works,” Clarice says, returning my smile. “So, we want to take your merchandising ideas in the wider store. I’m sure Mr. Stewart has talked to you about this.”
“Actually, no.” Jack smirks at me. “Miss Brook has been avoiding me all day. Well, most of the day. I did catch her in the hallway, but only briefly.”
My face could start a forest fire right now. I wish I could open one of the drawers of my fixtures, crawl in and live there forever.
“Avoiding you?” Brenda asks. I don’t like the expression on her face, her mouth is tight mouth and her eyebrows could knit a sweater.
“Not avoiding.” Jack laughs. Smug fuck. He’s loving this. “I’m joking, of course. We’ve been like two ships passing in the night.”
I nod but I can feel my face is still hot. “Yep.” That sounded like a bark. He needs to stop fucking with me in front of my boss.
Clarice looks down at her printout clutched in her French manicured fingers. “Well, if now is a good time, Lily, shall we meet about the layout in advance of Mr. Hamilton’s visit?”
Helplessly unprepared, thanks to Jack never telling me anything, I can only nod in agreement.
It’s a short ride in the elevator to the meeting room, but it feels like eternity. The buyer, Clarice, and Brenda compare notes about their respective retail careers. Jack stands behind me, and just as the doors close, he lets his fingers graze the small of my back. Chills rush through my body. I want to melt into that touch. I want him to keep touching me, to bring that hand lower and lower until he hits the sweet spot again.
But, of course, he needs to cut it the hell out in front of my boss. I reach my hand behind me and cup his balls gently, tightening my fingers just enough so he can feel that I’m serious.
“What was that, Miss Brook?” Jack asks.
Clarice and Brenda turn around and look at us with quizzical faces.
“She was saying something about the contour pouches of Flash Fit, weren’t you, Miss Brook?”
I twist my body, angling myself so they can’t see where my arm is. I don’t let go of his balls, just tug on them lightly. “I keep telling him they’re like the Wonder Bra for men,” I reply, with a wide, innocent smile.
The elevator doors open and I release my grip. Jack smacks my butt with his clip board once everyone else piles out of the elevator.
As we enter the executive office, I spy leftovers from a previous meeting. A cold box of joe, an empty bagel box and printouts of a holiday visual set up are abandoned on the big table. One of the printouts shows what’s clearly a Harry Potter knock-off, some kind of holiday-themed wizard display.
Jack glances at it, then up at me, wiggling his eyebrows. He acts like we’re okay because we almost hate-fucked in the hallway. We are 100% not okay. I scowl at him.
Unfortunately, I can’t just storm out of here. Brenda unrolls one of the floor plans, and we settle in to work.
Butt forms. Sexy Images. Logos. We have three days to pull this holiday floor move together before Mr. Hamilton’s visit. I’ve just finished sketching out my basic idea—literally sketching, on the floor plan Brenda passed me—when Jack frowns.
“I don’t know. I think the long johns should be here.” He taps my paper. “Then maybe the other cold weather goods nearby.”
I open my mouth to defend myself, but Brenda—beautiful Brenda—interrupts with a frown of her own. “As long as you keep Flash Fit front and center in the department. Most of the cold weather gear is from a brand that’s not performing quite as well. You can see that from the numbers here …” She spreads out her chart before him.
Jack leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest in defeat. “OK then. So, Miss Brook, you’ll be able to rally the troops for an overnight tomorrow night? If you all can knock it out by dawn, that gives us a day to tweak.”
“Can do,” I respond without meeting his eye, because to be honest, I’m sick of reporting to him right now.
Ugh. A whole overnight with this asshole. I bet he skips out early and leaves the heavy lifting to Mark, Mona and me.
We call the meeting to a close, and I practically sprint out of the room at Brenda’s side, leaving Jack talking to Clarice the buyer about markdowns.
“Good job!” Brenda beams at me. “It looks like things are really turning around at this store. This will look so great on your resume going forward, you know.”
I bob my head enthusiastically. “I’m really learning a lot—”
“Is there something going on between you and Jack Stewart?” she interrupts.
I stammer to a halt. Then, belatedly, I shake my head so hard I almost break my neck. “No. Not at all. Gross. I mean, he’s kind of an a—… . Not my type. Anyway. Why would you think that?” I keep my eyes as wide and innocent as they can possible stretch.
She squints and clicks her tongue. “I sensed some chemistry, that’s all.”
“Well, he has been a great partner on the floor. That must be it.”
Brenda smirks as the elevator doors open back on ground floor. “That better be it.” She winks. “Remember, kid. Keep it professional. Don’t shit where you eat.”
I am still shaking after my chat with Brenda, and in desperate need of caffeine. Back in the store, I head to the cafe on 8th. It’s a very Hamilton place. Frozen in 1906, the walls are decorated with art nouveau ivy and floral-tangled woman with knotted updos and smoldering expressions. The tables and chairs are spirals of iron and the waitresses are uniformed in long skirts and lacey aprons. I order a triple espresso and sit down at a dainty cast-iron table, and review how disastrous that meeting was.
Not the job portion of it. That went excellently, actually. But Jack.
Ugh. He could not stop calling me out, even when he knew Brenda was watching. Obviously she sensed the many in-jokes between us that he couldn’t resist dangling. And for what? The pleasure of watching me blush?
The man is trying to drive me insane, I swear to god.
I take a deep slurp from my espresso.
Splat.
Something soft and cold plops on my head and drips down my face. I leap out of my seat, accompanied by the scent of vanilla. “What the—�
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“Oh, no! I am so, so sorry!” Crystal gapes at me, her half-empty froyo cup gripped in a loose hand. “I can’t believe I am so clumsy!” She’s doing her best imitation of a shocked Barbie-doll face. “It must be these new heels.” She kicks up a shoe that costs more than my rent for the month.
As I gape at her in disbelief, the counter girl rushes over with a million napkins. “Oh, no,” the girl moans. “It’s everywhere.”
“What the hell is your problem?” I spit as I try to wipe ice cream from my hair.
“It was an accident,” Crystal purrs in a voice that’s sweeter than the froyo. “I swear to you.” She crosses her heart with her acrylic nail and bats her fake lashes at me.
I rise from my chair with adrenaline rushing through my veins. The counter girl backs off, looking startled and nervous. I haven’t been in a fight since 6th grade when Tommy Howell stole my iPod, but I swear to god I’m about to lay Crystal out on the mosaic tile floor.
That is, until Jack walks into the cafe. He takes one glance at me, then Crystal, then the empty cup in her hand. “Crystal, Jesus. What is wrong with you?”
She scowls at him. “I tripped—”
“Yeah, sure, just like you tripped on the last ten girls you thought I was flirting with,” he snaps, and I wish I could shove those words right back down his stupid throat.
Shit.
The whole cafe is staring at us now. I can practically hear the rumor mill churning around me. I glare at him, but Jack doesn’t even seem to notice the problem. He takes the napkins I’m clenching in my fist and reaches for my hair.
“Don’t touch me,” I snarl.
He drops the napkins in surprise, even as Crystal stalks out of the shop, pouting.
“Lily …”
“That’s Miss Brook to you,” I correct him, my voice hard as I stalk after Crystal out of here. He opens his mouth to respond, but I’m long gone by the time he can.
It looks like a condor took a dump on my head.
I turn on the faucet full blast, but washing my hair in the 3rd floor bathroom sink is sloppy work. Not to mention there’s no hot water.
As I maneuver my hair under the tap, I fantasize about punching Crystal in the face. It’s just an empty fantasy, but damn, I would really enjoy doing it.
Alas, I’m the bigger person.
But I am not going to do anything. Am I?
A voodoo curse, however, that seems like it would be totally fair. I mean, it’s not actual violence. And most people don’t even believe in it, right? It probably doesn’t really do anything.
But if it did …
I half-smile to myself. I wonder where I can get a voodoo doll in Philly … A voodoo doll, and about a thousand pushpins.
I feel a hand on my back and flip my head up in surprise. Water and froyo fly everywhere, but mostly on Mona. “Oh crap,” I blurt as froyo drips down her shirt.
“I am so sorry,” she says, as if she’s the one who just threw food on her coworker. She looks more miserable than she did this morning, all red nosed and puffy eyed like she’s been crying.
“I’m fine. Crystal—oh, never mind …”
“I know. I heard.”
It hasn’t even been five minutes. “How?” I ask, dread pooling in my stomach.
“Oh, Betty told Ricky who called me and asked me if I could find you.”
Shit. If Ricky heard about the froyo, then he definitely heard about Jack coming in too. And probably everything Jack said.
I love Ricky, but would he keep his mouth shut about gossip that juicy, if he figured out what was going on between me and Jack … ?
Mona hands me a couple of tee shirts from a competing brand. “Jack said to bring these to help you clean up.”
I hesitate, but accept the shirts. Okay, it is kind of amusing that he sent down the competition’s product for use as a cleaning rag. That is about the quality that these shirts are worth.
It’s hardly a big enough gesture for me to forgive him, though.
I soak the first tee shirt and use it to wipe the rest of my hair clean, then wrap a second tee shirt around my head. “Thanks,” I tell her. But when I look back at her, she’s crying. Like really crying. Like someone died crying.
“What’s wrong, Mona?”
Her lower lip quivers. “This is my fault.” She sniffs. “The froyo.”
I laugh. “How could it possibly be your fault?”
Mona blows her nose into the wet tee shirt. “I know you made out with Jack in the dressing room the other week. I saw the red lipstick on his face. I didn’t mean to start a rumor, I swear. I just told my friend who works in wedding china, because she kind of had a crush on Jack, and was thinking about asking him out now that he and Crystal are, you know … But she told her manager who told Crystal …”
I sigh and shake my head. “Mona …”
“I am so sorry,” she sobs. “Like really really sorry. You have been so nice to me and everything.”
I let out a nervous laugh. Of all the people in the store, Mona is the one I can’t get mad at here. She is so upset, and besides, she didn’t mean any harm. “Come here, girl. Calm down.” I reach out, and she gratefully darts into my arms to hug it out. Accidental slip of gossip or not, she’s my girl.
Now I just try not to think about how very screwed I am.
16
Jack
Security pulls the video from the cafe at my command. If only one decent thing can come from this mess of today, maybe I can finally get Crystal out of here once and for all.
The tape starts with Lily alone at her table, tapping away on her phone. God, even just working, she looks sexy. She’s got her legs crossed at the ankles, knees spread just far enough to tease what I already know is between them. Her tongue pokes out of the corner of her mouth in concentration, and for a second I have to shut my eyes to compose myself, because I can still feel that sexy mouth of hers wrapped around my cock, that coy little tongue lapping at me, tasting me. Fuck. Did she even know how crazy she was making me?
Knowing her, probably.
I snap back to attention when Crystal finishes buying her cold weapon. At my command, the HR head watching this with me slows down the feed as Crystal walks toward her victim.
Unfortunately, just before she reaches Lily, Crystal turns her back to the camera. Almost like she knew exactly where it was positioned.
Which, knowing her, was also probable.
All we can see as Crystal bumps Lily’s chair is Crystal’s narrow back and shoulders, pinched above Lily. I can’t even see her hand, or the cup she’s gripping.
Willa, the HR manager, shrugs. “It’s definitely not conclusive. Maybe if Lily files a complaint we might be able to add it to Crystal’s official record, report it to her company. But it’s not really up to Hamilton’s to take action here. It’s not like Lily was injured.” Willa sees my scowl and sighs. “Look, ask Lily to write an email of complaint to Blush Cosmetic. They might be willing to transfer Crystal out of here.”
Unfortunately, I already know how that will end. I texted Lily earlier today, asking her to come with me to HR to review the video. Her reply was curt, to the point. Forget it. We have other things to deal with.
“Can’t I reach out on her behalf?”
Willa’s eyes glitter a little too knowingly as she sizes me up. “Afraid that’s not how it works, Jack. Besides, since when did you get so involved in messes like this?”
Since I started hooking up with the world’s most stubborn woman, I resist saying. “Forget it,” is my actual response. “Thanks for your time.”
On the way out of the office, I study Lily’s text again. Forget it. We have other things to deal with.
On the plus side, no curse words. On the negative side, her tone still sounds curt, unforgiving. Is she talking about the floor move? Or us? Or both?
I haven’t stopped thinking about her since the hallway. Watching her moan in release, feeling her tight little pussy contract around my finger
as she gave in to her pleasure—fuck, I nearly lost it right there just listening to her moans. I want nothing more than to find her and drag her into the nearest private room—or hell, at this point I’d even settle for a semi-private dressing room—and finish what we started.
But she’s been avoiding me ever since then. I know her well enough by now to recognize it.
What the hell did I do this time?
I grind my teeth for a couple seconds, then pull up her text again. Can we talk about these other things we need to deal with? I reply.
Her reply arrives within seconds. No.
Yep. Definitely the world’s most stubborn woman. She’s like a mule.
A sexy, lycra encased mule who I cannot get out of my head. No matter what I do, or how I distract myself, any time I have more than a few seconds alone, I start remembering Sunday. Her soft body underneath me, her hair tangled in my hands. My tongue delving into her hot mouth, and her pussy wrapped around my hard cock.
Damn it.
I loved watching her come. Intense, surreal; it took me out of myself. Not to mention how hard she made me finish. I want that feeling back. I want to watch her lose control again, and to get lost in that with her.
I have to get her to talk to me. I don’t understand why she’s so upset with me, but whatever her reason this time, I’ll find a way around it.
I need to have her again.
The store is buzzing with whispers about the FroYo Incident, but they are muted by the louder whispers of Mr. Hamilton’s pending visit. As I walk through the store, I notice everyone from the stock guys to the group managers wringing their hands in worry and pacing their departments looking for chinks in the armor.
Golden Tower walk-throughs are bad enough as it is. Mr. Hamilton’s favorite pastime is scowling at our entire store and degrading everything we’ve done to try and appease him. But this visit will be even tougher. After the success of Flash Fit in our Basics Department, we’re changing a ton of things around, going full-blown modern with our merchandising. It’s a huge change, something we’ve never tried before.