by Emily Bishop
His picture comes a little more into focus, but the question area disappears.
“I think that’s enough questions for today, don’t you?” he types.
“Sure, though you’ve given me much to think about.”
“I certainly hope so,” he responds.
I can’t think of anything else to say. I can’t really think at all, actually. My eyes dart back to his response, and I read it several times over as the urge to touch myself grows.
“Sasha!”
Booker’s voice echoes from the next room over. I bolt up and stride through his doorway, hoping I don’t look as flushed as I feel. He’s dressed impeccably, as usual, in a tailored black suit. I wish he wasn’t so handsome. I really do. It makes it almost impossible to hate him.
Almost.
“Lucy is working on another assignment, and I need these files put away now. Can you work on this, please?”
He gestures to a small pile of papers, then to a gray filing cabinet. I nod and sift through the papers.
“Is there supposed to be some kind of rhyme or reason to this?” I ask.
“There will be, once you make one, Miss Ellis. What am I paying you for?”
I don’t bother responding to that impertinent question. Instead, I reach into the filing cabinet and work to discover the organization system in place so I can duplicate it. Perhaps the last assistant was an organized person.
“Well, well, what have we here?”
I turn to see a blond-haired, blue-eyed man staring at me with a suggestive grin. He’s nicely dressed as well, and he looks quite relaxed in Booker’s office, which is unheard of around here. I surmise that this must be Booker’s partner, Kieran Hendricks. I read up on him before starting here, but he looks different from the pictures.
Much more laid-back and carefree.
“This is my new assistant, Miss Ellis. You’ve met her, surely.”
“Surely, I have not,” he says, not looking back at Booker. Instead, he approaches me and holds out his hand.
“I’m Kieran, Booker’s wayward business partner. I certainly would have remembered meeting you, Miss Ellis. Do you have a first name?”
I shake his hand, but he doesn’t let go, instead holding my fingertips as he places a kiss against my knuckles.
I’ve never been more uncomfortable in my life. I can feel Booker’s glare burning a hole in the side of my rosy face.
“Her name is Sasha. Now if you’re done being beyond unprofessional, I’ll ask you to leave so we can get on with our work. Some people actually have to do that to make money, you know.”
That gets Kieran’s attention. He releases my hand, to my great relief, and steps back toward the door. “Low blow, Bo, low blow. Still, a man can see when he’s not wanted. I shall bid you both adieu.” He looks back at me. “I certainly hope we meet again, Sasha.”
“Get out,” Booker growls. Kieran winks at me like we’re sharing some kind of special secret before he disappears from the room. Booker continues to glower at his computer screen, and I turn back to my filing.
It’s not my fault his business partner came on to me. I better not get fired for this.
I wonder what Master is up to right now. Just how far am I willing to go with him?
Chapter Six
Booker
I can’t stop sneaking glances at Sasha. Her eyes are intense and focused as she organizes and files away the documents. At one point, she glances over and catches me staring. My eyes dart back to my computer screen. I’m so tempted to pick up my phone and see if I’ve got any messages from Angel, but I don’t. I would have heard a ding. Also, it’s a work day. She’s probably busy.
Like I should be. Not checking out my assistant’s ass every ten minutes.
Kieran has no business flirting with her. An uncomfortable feeling boils up in my stomach at the thought, and I don’t want to admit to myself that a small part of that might be jealousy.
In fact, that’s ridiculous.
Yes, Sasha is attractive. She’s also driven me nuts since the day she started, and she knows nothing about my world or what it takes to survive in it. I can tell she’s green, new to the city, hoping for some great big break. It’s written all over her face.
She’s got some work to do to convince me she’s capable of surviving in the tech world. For now, she can get coffee and file. I look up at the sound of the drawer closing, and Sasha turns back to look down at me.
I bet she likes having the high ground. She would.
She’s nothing like Angel.
“All set. Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Knight?”
I love the way she says “Mr. Knight.” I imagine a vast number of things she could do for me, preferably on her knees, but I repress that chain of thought before it goes too far.
“That will be all. Thank you, Miss Ellis.”
She nods and promptly makes her exit. My traitorous gaze follows the sway of her perfectly round hips. What I wouldn’t give to sink my teeth right into that skin…
This reminds me that I have a discussion to have with Kieran. I pick up my phone and dial his cell, knowing that he’s never in his office.
“Bo!” he says, ever jovial. “Fancy hearing from you. I almost thought you were mad at me a while ago.”
“I am mad at you. Are you near the office?”
“Yes, I’m in my office diligently working away, duh. Why?”
“Get in here.”
I hang up the phone. He doesn’t deserve the chance to respond. I sit back in my chair and glare into the room, seeing none of it. Within a minute, Kieran is at my door. His smile is broad. He never takes me seriously.
Drives me fucking nuts sometimes.
“Close the door, please,” I say.
“Uh-oh. I must really be in trouble,” Kieran replies. He does as I ask, closing the portal behind him before he sits before me, as he always does. I stare him down. I want him to squirm beneath my glare like everyone else does, but I know that won’t work with Kieran.
It feels good to glare at him anyway.
“You do understand that we live in a day and age where sexual harassment is taken very seriously,” I state.
“I am aware. Thanks for checking. What’s your problem?”
“My problem is that I have a new assistant who looked pretty uncomfortable with your advances on her this morning. We are not going to get a reputation for being an unsafe work environment. I need you to watch your behavior around here. Keep it professional, and stop making unwanted advances on women in this office!”
“How do you know she was uncomfortable? Since when have you been capable of reading human emotions?”
“Since now. Stop questioning me and do as I ask. This is serious, Kieran. I want you to treat it as such.”
Kieran lifts his hand in a placating gesture. “OK, OK. Boundary crossed. I get it. Let’s talk about something more entertaining, like profits. I’ve been going over some numbers in my office, and we should hit our quota this quarter. By launching the new app a few weeks before the big day of love, we should be able to make a killing, if we market it right.”
“Sounds good.”
“Did you get an account?”
I’ve been waiting for this question. Kieran has always taken an active interest in my love life, like a fool. No matter how many times I tell him that love is a farce, he thinks that I’m putting up a front, that no one can ever really believe that. I don’t have the time to explain myself to him, so I simply continually prove him wrong.
It works for us.
“Yes, I did.”
He grins and leans forward. “Did you get paired with someone? Do you have more than one match? Or is there a woman in the world who is compatible with you? Probably not. None of the women on that app want sex a la carte with no emotions attached. Did you put that as your relationship style on your profile?”
His words come out in an excited rush. This is part of the reason I hesitated to create an account i
n the first place. Beyond that, Angel is something special, something secret that belongs to me and only me. I’m not going to tell someone like Kieran about her, for Christ’s sake.
“The test is going well. I’ve managed to go through the beginning phase of the process, trying out the chat feature as well as answering a few of the questions. It works effectively.”
“Effectively as in you’re falling in love?” Kieran asks as he wiggles his eyebrows.
“Get out.”
Kieran’s eyebrows stay at the crest of his hairline. “Oh my god, you are. You like the person you’re talking to!”
“I’m not going to entertain your ridiculous notions. Stop holding out hope for me. You’re wasting your time.”
“And yet, you’ve never once been prickly about a woman.”
“I’m prickly about everything. It’s what balances our friendship out.”
“Yeah, but normally you don’t care.”
“Are you going to stop pushing, or do I have to delete the app and have no understanding of my product just to prove a useless point?”
Kieran laughs and stands. “Fine, but I’m going to keep tabs on this little interlude. I want regular updates and a wedding invitation.”
“I will have security escort you out. I’ve done it before.”
Kieran’s laughter rings through my office. “Yeah, you did, asshole. All right, I’m out of here, but don’t think I won’t be doing my research on you.”
“I’m shaking in my boots. Did I say get out already, or do I need to say it again?”
“Naw, you’ve made your point. Besides, there’s a girl I’m thinking about asking out on a date. Gotta go make some plans.”
“If you do anything inappropriate…” I growl. I don’t get a chance to finish, because Kieran saunters out of the office with a sarcastic wave behind his back.
Anger rushes through me. He has to be talking about Sasha. I don’t want him messing with her. Obviously because it’s impossible to find a good assistant these days.
I stand and open the file cabinet to evaluate her work. The previous assistant organized them in some weird system, but Sasha reworked it so that it makes way more sense. I can easily find what I need now instead of sifting around or making someone else do it for me.
Hmm. Perhaps Sasha does have some promise, after all. Time will tell.
I turn and glance back at my phone. I miss Angel. It’s a new sensation for me. I’ve never really missed a woman in my life. It’s curious, and I’m not certain I’m comfortable with it either. It doesn’t stop me from taking a seat and unlocking the app. No message from her.
Bummer.
“You there?” I type.
God, when did I become some desperate school boy? I stare at the screen as though I can will her to chat. When I see the icon showing her writing, my stomach tingles.
Butterflies? Seriously?
I might actually be a schoolgirl. I take it back.
“Always,” she says. “What’s up?”
I look across the room through my glass door at the main floor of the office. Around me, people are working away steadily, preparing for the launch of our new product. All except Kieran, who is likely trying to find a way to crack into my conversations, so he can read them and accuse me of falling for Angel.
I wonder if that’s possible. I make a mental note to check after this. We’ll want to protect the privacy of our clients as much as possible, of course. And me. If I can’t protect myself from Kieran, I don’t deserve to run this company.
“Do you ever feel like you can’t trust your friends?” I ask.
She hesitates, then types in her answer. “That question is a little complicated. I didn’t have too many friends growing up, mostly just my siblings and later my coworkers. Is it one friend, or many?”
I wish I could relate to her. Siblings, ha. What that would have been like, to be friends with a brother or sister? I will never, ever know what that feels like.
Fine by me.
“Just one,” I write back. “Actually, the only friend I’ve ever had. He drives me nuts, but we’ve only ever had each other, so I can’t exactly kick him off the ship. He’s also my business partner. That complicates things, too.”
“It sounds like work dominates a lot of your life,” she observes.
“To be honest, the only reason my friend is still in my life is because we work together. I’ve been working all my life, to the point where I’ve never had much of a social life, including friends. It’s been a part of who I am since I can remember.”
“I can relate to that. I’ve been working almost every day for the past few years to get to where I am now. Success doesn’t come to those who sit around on their butts, right?”
I chuckle. That’s one way to put it.
“No, it doesn’t. I imagine you must be quite fun to work with.”
“Ha!” she counters. “I’m not so sure. The people I work with don’t seem very impressed with me so far, but I’m going to prove them wrong. I’m going to be one of the greatest successes my town has ever seen. I’ll be a local celebrity when I come home for the holidays, just wait and see!”
“For all I know, you already are a celebrity, wearing a disguise so that you can meet someone normal who will like you for who you are.”
“You got me. Now you’ll simply have to guess which famous person I am. Perhaps I can give you a hint? I’m very rotund with a balding head, and I’ve been dead for several years. Also, I starred in the Godfather.”
I chuckle again.
“Ah, I always wanted to fall in love with Marlon Brando. You were so dreamy in A Streetcar Named Desire. I should tell you though that I really only like women, so this relationship might not work.”
“Damn. And here I was thinking we were really hitting it off.”
A knock and my door opens again. Christ, can’t I get a moment’s peace? “Mr. Knight? I’m back from the drycleaner with your suit, sir. Also you have a few messages I picked up at the front desk.” Lucy says.
I look up from my phone. Work to be done. Things to accomplish.
“Thanks, Miss Shone. I’ll take care of it.”
She nods and sets the messages on my desk before she steps back out without another word. I turn back to my phone.
“Duty calls,” I write. “Talk later?”
“I hope so,” she writes back, and a warmth creeps across my chest.
For the first time in my life, it’s hard to focus on work. All I can think about is when I can next talk to my Angel.
I wonder if she’s feeling this, too, or if I’m just a total fucking moron.
Chapter Seven
Sasha
Merlot. Definitely merlot tonight.
I spent the rest of the day waiting for a message from Master and working to distract myself from checking my phone. It worked, generally. I managed to get through the paperwork I’d printed out the day before. I’ve made many edits to the text with suggestions based on my own experience with the app.
Now I just have to figure out how to bring it up to Booker.
I wonder if he approved of my filing style. The previous person clearly had no organization skills whatsoever, which makes me a little more confident in my place at the company, but not by much. I’ve always worried my whole life about not being good enough.
I never really felt that way entirely until I met Booker Knight. Every time he looks down at me with that critical expression of his, I want to crawl behind my desk and hide. I also want to reach up and kiss his perfectly sculpted mouth.
It’s a complex series of emotions. I remember that he is my boss, and those kinds of thoughts are inappropriate. That still hasn’t stopped me from admiring his butt in his perfectly custom-made pants every time he walks away.
I bet he doesn’t hold a candle to Master, though.
I frown. I still don’t know what Master looks like. Perhaps the beauty of this app is that when we reach the end of our road, we really won’t car
e anymore. We’ll be happy just to be with and see one another.
I hope that’s how this ends.
I’ve become so invested in this, it scares me a little. I don’t want to like Master as much as I do, but I can’t help myself. I tell myself that he is a character, playing a part in an online world. It’s so much easier to play a role online, to fake things. To catfish. How do I know he is the same to speak with in person as he is on the app? He’s told me himself that he finds this medium freeing, easier to talk in.
What if we meet, and I can’t hold a real conversation with him?
I pour a healthy glass of red wine into an old black and white coffee mug that says Pennsylvania is for cow lovers! It’s one of my favorite mugs, mostly because it can fit the perfect amount of either coffee or wine. I sink into my sofa and stare out my window. A few errant snowflakes flutter from the sky, disappearing as they land on hard metal and concrete.
I sip my wine and think about Master when my phone gives me that telltale sign.
Master is here!
Butterflies erupt in my stomach as I pick up my phone and check to see his message.
“Good evening, beautiful. How are you tonight?”
“How do you know I’m beautiful? You’ve never seen my face,” I say.
It’s true. Is he just a flatterer? Also, why is it working, anyway? Couldn’t tell you, really.
“I’ve seen your soul, exposed here on the screen of my phone. Naked and perfect.”
The fact that he’s alluding to the fact that he’s pictured me naked warms my cheeks.
“I’d say you’ve only scratched the surface. There’s quite a bit we haven’t talked about during our interludes,” I point out.
“You are absolutely correct. Tonight we should open up a new topic to get to know one another better.”
“I agree. You’ve never told me much about your family or where you come from. Why don’t we start there?”
“Why don’t you tell me more about your family, and then I’ll take my turn second,” he says.
Strange. Why doesn’t he want to talk about his family? Lucky for him, I have no qualms about gabbing when it comes to my own.