by Sophie Stern
The poor woman twisted her ankle, slipped in her heels, and threw the salsa at me.
I did not catch it with my hands. Instead, I managed to catch the entire bowl with the front of my shirt.
That was the last time I came to work unprepared.
I finally open my eyes and see Rose for the first time. She smiles at me and somehow, it calms me. Fuck. She had no idea she has this incredible impact on me. She has no idea that when I see her, the whole world makes sense. She has no idea that when I see her, somehow, everything is okay. Everything comes together.
Her dark red hair is down. She curled it today and it looks beautiful, soft. Usually, her hair looks a little wild, like her, but today, she put in a little extra effort. She looks just as beautiful on her wild days as she does today.
Her glasses are perched on the end of her freckled nose and while she complains she looks geeky, she doesn’t. She looks like a goddess: a smart, beautiful goddess.
Her white blouse shows off her curves and the black pencil skirt makes her look like a pin-up girl from old magazines. The red stilettos complete her look and I groan. I really should tell her to stop wearing them. They’re going to be my undoing.
I’m sad and tired and overwhelmed and despite all of that, my dick is rock fucking hard just from looking at her.
How the fuck am I going to make it through today?
“Parker,” Rose is directly in front of my desk now.
“Rose,” I say.
“What happened?” She sits in one of the chairs in front of my desk, the ones where clients and colleagues occasionally sit during meetings. She doesn’t cross her legs. Instead, she leans forward and takes one of my hands in hers. “Tell me,” she whispers.
“It’s Janine,” I blurt out. Forget being in control. Forget being in charge. Right now, I just need a friend. Right now, I just need someone who is going to help me through the day. The only person who knows what I went through is Rose. The only person who understands even a tiny fraction of the pain I experienced is Rose.
And she doesn’t even know that much.
She was there the night I found out about Janine and Mike. She saw my face the night I caught them. She was there when I turned around, as I went into shock from the betrayal. She was there when I whispered what I had seen. She was the one who drove me home, put me to bed, promised me everything would be all right.
She was the one who promised to keep my secret, who swore she wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened to me.
She was the only one there for me.
“Oh, Parker,” Rose lets go of my hand and comes around the desk. She stands next to me, turns my chair toward her, and pulls me to my feet.
Then she hugs me.
For just a minute, I pretend everything is going to be okay. I don’t know why Rose can calm me in this way. No one else has ever been able to, yet she can. Something about her makes me feel like I’m safe, like I’m taken care of. Something about her makes me feel like the world can pass me by and nothing matters but her arms around me.
“What happened?” She whispers.
“Her mother called me this morning.” I hold Rose tightly. Her breasts are against my chest and her head nestles against me, just beneath my chin. I smell the vanilla scent of her shampoo and I close my eyes.
“Tell me,” she says.
“There was an accident. A car wreck. She didn’t make it.”
“Oh, Parker. I’m so sorry.”
I am, too. I shouldn’t be. I should feel justified, happy even. I should feel glad that Janine got what she deserved for hurting me, but she didn’t. No one deserves that. No one deserves to die alone. No one deserves to have something bad happen to them. Not like that. Not ever.
“I am, too,” I tell her. “The funeral is on Saturday.”
“I’ll go with you,” Rose offers, and I nod.
“I’d like that,” I tell her honestly. Janine and I were together a long time. We may have ended our relationship terribly, but I should be at her funeral. I need to be. I need to get a little bit of closure. I need to say goodbye. Despite everything she did to me, despite how deeply she hurt me, I still feel like I should go.
I should go say goodbye.
I owe her that much.
“But right now,” Rose says, “It’s time for the meeting. Let’s change your shirt, big boy. We’ve got a presentation to give.”
4
Rose
Somehow, we manage to make it through the Thomas and Johnson meeting, and somehow, we manage to land the contract. I don’t know how. Parker looks like shit and I feel like it, but we’re a good team and we’ve perfected our sales pitch. Years of working together will do that to do. We work beautifully together. Our relationship at work is like a well-oiled machine. Anything the clients throw at us, we’re ready for. We can handle any question, any complaint, any concern. We can conquer anything together.
We’re a perfect fucking team.
And I’m supposed to seduce him within the week.
Because of the dare.
Because of Stephanie.
Because I promised.
Only, now I feel guilty about it. We leave the conference room where the meeting was held and go back to Parker’s office. We need to talk about the details of the paperwork and set up the initial payment from the company. Then we have to plan out the orders and exactly how many parts Thomas and Johnson want.
We have our work cut out for us.
By the time we leave the office, business hours are long over. The rest of the staff left by six and now it’s nearly ten. Parker and I are both used to pulling long hours at work, but today we’re completely exhausted.
He walks me to my car and hugs me goodbye.
“Thanks for all of your hard work today,” he says, holding me tightly. “You really made it happen.”
“It was nothing,” I say, wrapping my arms right back around him. It’s so comforting, so perfect. We’ve shared hundreds of hugs over the years, but somehow, this one feels especially sweet, especially important.
We spent the entire day working together and, from what I can tell, it really helped get Parker’s mind off Janine. Part of me can’t believe it happened. Hell, most of me can’t believe it. I don’t think about her often and when I do, it’s almost always negative. I’m sure she had a perfectly good reason for doing what she did.
Maybe.
Probably not.
Still, no one deserves to die like that. No one deserves to die young, no matter how they might have lived.
“I’m sorry it was a long day,” I tell Parker.
“It didn’t seem so bad because you were there,” he says, but his voice is almost a whisper. I wonder if I just imagined him saying it because that’s borderline romantic and Parker and I are not romantic.
But I want to be.
My mind chooses that moment to remind me of Stephanie’s dare. I have until the end of the week to seduce Parker or I’m going to owe her. I don’t want to pussy out. I don’t want to be that girl. Only, after the day he’s had, is it really fair for me to try to seduce him now?
Should I plant an idea in his head?
Maybe I could flirt a little to make him think about me. Then, later in the week when I make my move for real, things won’t seem so strange.
I hold Parker tighter, pulling him against my chest. I know he can feel every part of me. This is one long fucking hug but he doesn’t make a move to leave and neither do I. His breath catches and yeah, I can tell he feels all of me.
“I’m glad we spent the day together,” I whisper. My dirty talk sucks. Fuck. This isn’t romantic or sweet or sexy.
“Yeah,” he says, and I feel something against my belly.
It can’t be.
Is that his…?
Parker practically leaps out of my arms and turns around. He takes long strides toward his own car.
“Goodnight, Rose,” he calls out, and he gets inside his vehicle. I watch him for a second before
I get into my own car. Yeah, that was his cock and it was fucking hard.
For me?
Definitely for me.
I’m totally shocked as I sink into my seat, but I shouldn’t be. I’m pretty enough. I’m funny. I’m sweet. I’m interesting, right? None of my other boyfriends have ever complained that I’m boring. A bit bitchy, maybe, and a bit intense, but never boring.
Does Parker like me?
The idea that he might feel the same way as I do honestly hasn’t crossed my mind. I figured trying to seduce him would be like pulling teeth, but now I wonder if that’s true. That was a good fucking hug and I think he liked it just as much as I did.
So what do I do now?
I peek out my window and see that he’s still in his car. He’s staring straight ahead and his hands are gripping the steering wheel, like he can’t quite focus. He can’t quite convince himself to drive home yet, and I have an idea.
It’s probably a bad idea.
Still, I’m tired of playing it safe. Stephanie is right: I’ve liked Parker for three years and nothing has ever happened. I’ve been waiting around for him to realize I could be the girl of his dreams, but he never has. Maybe it’s time for me to push fate aside and take control of my own destiny. Maybe it’s time for me to put on my big-girl panties and make it happen.
I grab my cell phone and call Parker.
I see him look at his phone, then over at my car, then back at his phone. Finally, he picks up.
“Rose?”
“Hey, Parker,” I say.
“Is everything okay?” He’s looking at me now. We’re parked about five spaces apart and even though it’s dark, I can see his face because of the streetlights in the parking lot. He looks a little worried, a little confused.
“It was a long day,” I say quickly. I want to break eye contact, want to twirl my hair and close my eyes and pretend no one can see me. I want to pretend I’m invisible because that makes me feel brave. Ever since I was a little kid, closing my eyes has gotten me through my darkest moments. I don’t know why.
I guess that somehow, I never grew out of the idea that if I can’t see them, they can’t see me.
“Do you want to get a drink with me?” I ask Parker quickly. A look of surprise crosses over his face, then another emotion replaces it and I realize he’s going to say “no.”
Fuck.
My face flushes with embarrassment as he hesitates for a moment, then he runs a hand through his hair and over his beard.
How many nights have I dreamt of touching that beard?
How many times have I fantasized about running my hands through that hair?
“Rose,” he says. “It’s late. I should go home. You should, too.”
“Sorry,” I say. “It was a stupid idea.” Quickly, I hang up the phone and start my engine, then pull out of the parking lot. I try to forget about how embarrassing this feels, about how rejected I feel. I try to forget everything but getting as far away from the AeroKing office as possible.
And I’m certainly not fucking going home.
Parker doesn’t have to come with me, but now I need a drink more than ever and I’ll be damned if I let him tell me to go home because it’s “late.”
Fuck.
5
Parker
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know I messed up. A look of embarrassment covers Rose’s face before she steels herself, hangs up, and books it out of the parking lot. Immediately, I realize I’m going to have to follow her because she’s definitely not going home. If she was before, she’s certainly not now.
No, I embarrassed her by saying I wouldn’t go out with her and now she’s going to go by herself. She’s going to go alone to some bar or some club and she’s going to drink. Even if I wasn’t completely crazy about Rose, I couldn’t let her go out alone in Weston at night. It’s not safe to go drinking alone for anyone. Whether she’s a woman or not doesn’t matter. What matters is that there’s safety in groups and her group is one.
Quickly, I take off after her. She’s upset and I doubt she’ll notice I’m following her, so I don’t bother trying to be discreet. As she drives, I wonder what’s gotten into Rose today. She’s always beautiful and always fun, but today I almost felt like she was coming onto me. I must be imagining things because in three years of working together, she’s never so much as looked at me twice.
That’s fine.
She’s way out of my league, anyway.
She’s sweet and gentle and kind and she’s not scarred by the world like I am. I’ll never forget the way I felt when I caught Janine and Mike together, but the pain was dulled by Rose. Did I ever thank her for that? No. I never bothered because I was embarrassed, humiliated. My best friend stole my girl away, but even I know that’s not really true. Janine had been leaving me for a long time and the relationship finally fell apart.
For two years now, I’ve been mostly single.
“Mostly” because I still go on the occasional date and bring home the occasional woman, but it’s never a relationship. I don’t do relationships anymore. Not now, not ever. The truth is that since Janine left, I haven’t even thought about being with another woman except for Rose.
And that’s wrong.
She’s Rose.
She’s delicate and precious and I’m not. I’ll break her, ruin her. I’ll destroy her because she’s fragile and I’m arrogant, demanding. I’m a hard boss, but we get along well together at work. I have no idea how that would translate outside of the office because we’ve never really hung out outside of work.
Until now.
She pulls into the parking lot of a bar and I park a few spots down from her. Rose hops out of the car and slams the door, then marches right inside.
Well, okay, then.
I guess my instincts were right and I feel a little bit of relief that I did follow her, but in reality, I should have just said “yes.” I should have said I’d go with her. I figured if I turned her down, she’d go home and I’d go home and our relationship would reset in the morning. No harm done.
The truth is that I don’t trust myself around Rose outside of work.
The boundaries are in place for a reason and that reason is she’s super fucking perfect and I want her.
All of her.
I can’t even count how many fantasies I’ve had starring her: starring Rose. How many times have I dreamt of setting her up on the desk and pushing her skirt up, spreading her legs? How many times have I imagined sliding my tongue up those creamy pink thighs? How many times have I wondered what her pussy tastes like?
Too fucking many.
I’ve spent too many nights jerking off to thoughts of her, too many nights thinking of how sweet she’ll look spread out on my bed. I’ve spent too many nights thinking about all the ways I want to make her come. I’ve spent way too many nights imagining what her nipples look like, imagining what her entire body looks like.
I glance at the time on the dashboard and realize I’ve been lost in my thoughts for nearly half an hour and I should probably go get Rose. Surely she’s had enough time to have a drink, maybe two. It’s late and we both have to be at work in the morning, but more importantly, I need to apologize for hurting her today.
I didn’t mean to make her feel rejected.
I head into the bar and I’m immediately assaulted by the sound of the jukebox and the smell of smoke. Is it even still legal to smoke in bars? I thought that had been banned years ago, but apparently there’s a bit of leeway for country bars, and there’s no doubt that this is, in fact, a country bar.
There’s a jukebox in the corner and tables fill one side of the room. The other side has pool tables and dart boards and at the back, I can see the bar itself. There are people everywhere: men in cowboy hats and women in shorts that could double as panties. A group of couples at one table look like they’re celebrating a birthday and there are a bunch of single women obviously having a bachelorette party. If the woman in the white mini-dress
wasn’t a giveaway on its own, the four girls around her with bridesmaid sashes certainly are.
Glancing around the room, I make my way to the back. I don’t see Rose until I’m actually at the bar. She’s at one end of the row of barstools and she’s gripping a shot of something in her hands.
Then she downs the shot.
And another.
The array of empty shot glasses around her let me know that she’s been hitting it hard in the time I’ve been outside. Five shots? Yeah, she’s not driving home. I motion for the bartender. He makes his way over and I pay Rose’s tab and give him a hefty tip. Then I walk over to her and place my hand on her shoulder.
“I have a boyfriend,” she says without looking up.
“That’s unfortunate,” I say quietly. “He must be a real asshole if he’s letting you drink here alone tonight.”
Rose’s head jerks up and around and her jaw drops when she sees me.
“I thought you didn’t want to come with me tonight.”
“Plans change.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“Ah, so you wanted to babysit me. No thanks,” she turns back around and stares at the assortment of glass bottles behind the bar, but doesn’t try to order another drink.
“I didn’t come to babysit you,” I take a seat next to Rose. “I just wanted to apologize for being an asshole.”
“It’s not the first time you’ve been a dick,” she says.
“Come on now, I wasn’t that bad today.”
“I know.”
“Want to tell me what this is really about?” I ask her.
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve never hung out outside of work before, Rose. Why tonight?”