by Robinson, Cheryl; Smith, Meta; King, Joy; Parks, Electa Rome
Approximately a week after I was introduced to Drake at work, I picked up my ringing phone to find him on line two.
“Miss Logan?”
“Yes. Speaking.”
“This is Drake Collins.”
“Hi. How are you?”
“Good. And yourself?”
“I’m great. How are you adjusting to the company and your new role?”
“I can’t complain. Everything is going well both on and off the job. Everybody that I’ve met in Atlanta has extended true southern hospitality to me. Strangers actually speak to you in the streets and everyone is super friendly and laid back. I really think I’m going to enjoy living here.”
“That’s good.”
“Listen, I don’t know what your schedule looks like today, but would you have a few minutes, maybe an hour, to walk me through some of these reports? I know you service most of the clients on this list.”
I looked around at the pile of paperwork on my desk, but found myself agreeing to come up to his office in twenty minutes.
“Sure, I can squeeze you in.”
“It won’t be a problem?” Drake questioned in that deep voice of his.
“No, not at all. See you in twenty.”
“Great. You’re a sweetheart, Miss Logan. I owe you one.”
Exactly twenty minutes later, after making a quick trip to the restroom, brushing my teeth, and combing through my thick mane of hair, I was softly knocking at Mr. Collins’s closed door.
“Come in.”
I slowly opened the door and strolled in. Drake was working with an Excel spreadsheet on his PC. He looked up and smiled in my direction. Perfect white teeth. Again, I couldn’t get over how utterly gorgeous he was. I simply stared. And he was all man. Solid. Drake carried himself like a man definitely in charge of any situation. I admired that.
“Hi, Kennedy. You’re right on time,” he stated, looking down at his gold wristwatch.
I still stood near the open door.
“Come on in and close the door because it’s been pretty hectic and noisy on the floor today. I don’t want us to be disturbed.”
“Okay. Sure.” I shut the door and was enveloped into his space.
Standing up, he said, “You can take my chair. I’m going to be walking back and forth and pulling files, et cetera. It’ll be easier for you to sit and for me to stand.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I smiled.
I took a seat in his black, soft leather, swivel chair and felt his alluring fragrance and aura completely overtake me. As I made myself comfortable, Drake pulled out a stack of computer printouts and laid them in the center of his elegant cherrywood desk and deposited himself on the edge of the desk, right next to me. With his suit jacket off and the sleeves to his white starched shirt rolled up, it was obvious that he was ready to get down to some serious business.
“Miss Kennedy, what is this mess? I can’t make heads or tales out of most of it. There are all these acronyms for everything. Where is a list that explains all the codes?”
I picked up a stack of the paperwork that he was referring to, reviewed them briefly, and started to explain what we were looking at in reference to our clients, their demographics, bundles, etc. The entire time, I was very aware of Drake being very near me. So close. I could feel the heat rising from his body. I could see the tiny hairs standing up on his arms. Too close for comfort. Definitely.
When he was reviewing the printouts, I used that time to secretly check him out, closer. He had the smoothest brown skin, and his hands were so large, yet smooth. His haircut was perfect, like he had just stepped out of a barber’s chair, and the way his eyelashes swooshed over his eyelids was super sexy.
At one point, he stopped looking at the printouts and glanced over at me. For a moment I thought he had caught me staring. I panicked. Coughing, I quickly looked down at the report in front of me.
“What is that delicious perfume you’re wearing? It smells wonderful.”
“Ellen Tracy.”
“Smells nice on you,” he said, and went back to examining the trail of paperwork he had laid out in neat stacks on his desk and credenza.
“Thank you.”
A couple of times I thought I felt him staring down the low-cut silk blouse that I wore with a straight black skirt and black pumps. From Drake’s point of view, he could clearly see my black lace bra and probably could see the swell of my breasts as they rose and fell in his presence with a desire and mind of their own.
“Where is that list of codes?” he asked, looking around at the stacks of reports on his desk.
“There they are, third stack from your right,” I explained as we reached for the code sheet at the same time. When his hand touched my fingers, I experienced cool chills run up and down my arms. I quickly placed my hands back in my lap to steady them.
“Good. This is exactly what I need. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Running his hand across his head, Drake absently glanced down at his wristwatch.
“You know what? I’ve kept you long enough today. I didn’t realize it was so late, and you haven’t even eaten lunch.”
“No, but I’m glad to help out any way I can.”
“Miss Logan, you’ve been an incredible help. Unfortunately, we only made it through a quarter of the reports. Can we meet again next week? Say, next Friday at ten o’clock?” he asked, looking at me expectantly. “Is that asking too much?”
“No. That shouldn’t be a problem.”
“How about penciling in two hours on your calendar?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“If you’d like, I can check with your manager to make sure she’s cool with it. Your manager is Peggy Hunt, isn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“Good. That’ll give me the chance to put in a good word for you as well. Let her know what a great asset you’ve been to me.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I want to,” Drake volunteered, with that smile shining bright.
“Thanks, that’ll be wonderful.”
“Okay then, next week it is. Take care, Miss Logan.”
“You too,” I said, retrieving my belongings, then opening the door and heading out with a warm tingling coursing between my legs.
Wednesday of the following week I ran into Drake in the lobby, down by the security desk. He was talking with someone that I vaguely recalled meeting at an interdepartmental business meeting. Drake abruptly ended their conversation, came up behind me and fell in pace with me. The fluttering began again.
“Hi, Miss Logan.” He smiled. I loved that smile.
“Hi, Mr. Collins.” I grinned back, looking up at him.
“Please. Call me Drake.”
“Well, in that case, please call me Kennedy.” We grinned at each other again.
“Where are you headed?”
I held up my lunch bag. “Since the women on my floor are seriously tripping today, I decided to sit in the cafeteria with my leftovers from last night and read.”
Drake reached to check out the cover of the book I held in my other hand. “Is it good?”
“So far it’s excellent. It’s by a local Atlanta author.”
“Cool, maybe I’ll check her out. I love supporting our own local talent.”
I nodded.
“I’m headed to lunch as well, but I hate eating alone. Could you do me the honor of joining me?”
“I don’t know. I was—”
“I’ll even buy. Come on. Say yes. I owe you for all your hard work last week.”
“Really, it’s not necessary. I was just doing my job.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Okay, sure. Since you put it that way. Why not?” I said as I left my bagged lunch at the security desk for safekeeping.
“Where would you like to eat, Kennedy?”
“I’ve overheard my coworkers talking about this recently opened Italian restauran
t that’s not far from here; it’s within walking distance and has delicious lunch specials.”
“Excellent. Lead the way,” he said, opening the door that led to the busy street.
As we walked the couple of blocks, I noticed the women checking Drake out. He walked with a confident stride.
An hour later, an hour that flew by, I couldn’t believe I had laughed, talked, and had such a wonderful time. The food was mouth-watering and the conversation even better. Our conversation wasn’t forced; it came natural and easy. As I ate my seafood pasta and Greek salad, Drake had me in stitches over some of his tales of growing up in Los Angeles. His descriptions were so vivid; I felt like I was right there with him. I found myself opening up in ways I never expected. I surprised myself by confiding in him about my dissatisfaction with my current position. He really seemed to understand, and even offered suggestions and advice. A few times I’d look up and find him staring at me. I’d look down and play with a strand of my hair in order to avoid his eyes, which appeared to reach within my soul and seek out my deepest desires.
“May I ask you a personal question?” he asked, suddenly serious.
“Sure, why not? Ask away.”
“Are you seeing or dating anyone in particular?”
I paused for only a moment. “No and no.”
“That’s hard to believe. A beautiful lady like yourself. I’d think you’d have men beating down your front door.”
“I’m afraid not,” I said, twirling another strand of my hair around and through my middle fingers.
“Why is that?”
“I’m afraid I’m too picky and selective.”
“What are you saying? There aren’t any good men in Atlanta?”
“If there are, I’m not meeting them.”
“Is it true that there’s a large and growing gay and lesbian population?”
“That’s what I’ve been told. Atlanta isn’t called the new San Francisco for no reason.”
“Interesting. You know, you remind me so much of my first love. She was kinda quiet, with your smothering, alluring beauty and innocent sexiness.”
I blushed. “Really?” I asked, breaking our eye contact.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That was inappropriate. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable in any way.”
“No. I’m fine.”
Drake glanced down at his watch. “Man, look at the time. I guess we’d better be getting back before they come looking for us and while we still have jobs.” He signaled for the waiter and the check.
“You’re absolutely right. My manager demands promptness from our team. I wouldn’t want to get on her black list because of tardiness.”
He winked conspiratorially. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle her. If she asks, I’ll say we were on a boring business lunch that dragged on.”
Drake and I made it back to the building and waited at the first bank of elevators to go up to our floors. The elevator doors opened and a stream of people rushed out. As we stepped in, surprisingly, he and I were the only two people in the elevator. I stood to one side and Drake on the other. There was a comfortable silence that only we could truly appreciate.
“Drake, thanks for the lunch. I see what I’m missing by eating at my desk all the time. I have to get out more and enjoy the Midtown restaurants.”
“I definitely enjoyed the meal and the company. See you Friday, Kennedy,” he said as we arrived at my floor and I stepped off. “Kennedy?” he called, holding the elevator door open.
“Yes?” I stopped walking and turned around.
“Don’t worry. You’ll meet that special man soon.”
“If you say so.”
“I know so.” The door shut with me still staring at it and trying to figure out his hidden message.
On Friday, I was back in Drake’s office, behind closed doors again. Since Fridays were casual, I was dressed down in a cotton, long-sleeve, button-down shirt and dark navy blue slacks, with my hair pulled back in a ponytail. I was looking more like a college student than a professional businesswoman. But at least I didn’t overdo it, like some of the women on my floor who obviously thought Casual Friday meant Nightclub Friday.
Drake had on a tennis shirt embossed with our corporate logo and khaki pants. Even dressed down, the man was all that. He probably looked sexy wearing a sweaty T-shirt and holey shorts while he scratched his butt. Now that I had gotten a better view of those abs, I had an overwhelming urge to reach out and squeeze them. I couldn’t deny it—the man was making me crazy.
“Let me get up so you can claim your seat,” he laughed, showing those straight white teeth that reminded me of the sexy actor Taye Diggs.
I smiled, somewhat shyly. “Thank you, sir. Good afternoon.”
“Oh, let’s not go back to that formality. We had a great lunch the other day and I thought all those barriers came down with the meal. Deal?”
“Deal.”
As I moved into my assigned seat, we briefly brushed against each other, and my nipples instantly hardened like never before. Drake smelled divine.
“Excuse me,” I said, catching my breath.
“Sure. You look nice today. But you always look good.”
“Thanks. Are you ready to get started?”
“Yes. But first I want to ask you something.”
“Okay.” I looked up at him expectantly.
“This is totally not business related, but I feel comfortable around you. I hope you feel the same about me.”
I stared at him and searched his face, unsure of what he was going to ask me. I guess he saw uncertainty reflected in my eyes.
“Really, my question is nothing major. I went to Vision nightclub the other night and almost got mobbed by the women there. Are Atlanta women always that aggressive?”
I laughed and exhaled. “I don’t know, I guess so, from what I’ve heard. I don’t do the club scene much, but the women in Atlanta are pretty bold. The women-to-men ratio is pretty high, so the competition is fierce and no holds barred.”
“I see. Well, curious minds wanted to know. That’s all. It’s cool. I had women asking me to dance. Wanting to buy me drinks and take me home.”
“Welcome to Atlanta.”
He didn’t say anything, just stared at me.
“What?”
“Nothing. I probably shouldn’t say this again, but you are a beautiful woman.”
“And thank you again,” I said, looking off before Drake saw how flustered he was making me.
“No really, you are gorgeous. Are my comments making you uncomfortable?” he asked, searching my face for answers.
“Of course not. I love being told I’m beautiful by a handsome man,” I said, laughing my nervous giggle. I found myself searching for strands of my hair to twist between my fingers. I forgot it was up in a ponytail. So my hand clung and lingered in the air, making me feel foolish.
“You should be used to it by now, Kennedy.” His eyes never left my face. Was he still searching for a reaction?
There was an awkward, uncomfortable silence as I felt my face heat up. I shuffled the paperwork on his desktop.
“Well, I guess we need to get to work and earn our paychecks. I only have two of your precious hours, and we still have a lot to cover.”
“Let’s dig in,” I stated, eager to get back to business-related matters. I was more comfortable discussing clients and their needs.
Drake and I worked steadily for over an hour. I typed codes into his PC, and my neck was getting stiff, so I found myself massaging it with my free hand. Without expecting it, Drake came up behind me.
“Got a kink?”
I nodded my head and kept typing.
“Here, let me fix that.” He proceeded to firmly but gently knead the muscles of my neck with his large hands. It felt so good that I found myself closing my eyes and reclining back against his expert hand.
“How’s that? Better?”
“Much better.” I didn’t want him to stop.
“Good,” he said as his hand inched farther down. I could feel the heat of his fingertips through my thin cotton shirt. He hesitated.