Office Player

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Office Player Page 11

by Eden Summers


  He also told you we had sex, she mentally acknowledged. Either that or Steve was uncomfortable around her for a completely different reason.

  Dean must have been bragging. They never discussed keeping their weekend a secret, but she didn’t think he would rush to tell their mutual work friends about their private affairs. Surely he wouldn’t be so quick to disrespect her in front of another staff member, someone she had to supervise. Already.

  Then again, she only needed to remind herself of his track record to determine the high probability. He loved to brag about his conquests, or so she’d been told.

  She swallowed over the lump in her throat and faked a smile. “Okay. Thanks for the update. I’m going to get to work.”

  She strode across the hall to her office, her heart beating loud in her ears. Not knowing what Dean had told Steve made her nauseated. She wondered if the details would’ve been explicit, if her subordinate would now know of her lack of prowess or the words she’d whispered to Dean in the shower.

  There was a good chance she would be the laughingstock of the office by lunch break.

  Closing the door behind her, she went to sit behind her desk, discreetly watching Steve through the inner office window. He took his time leaving Dean’s office. First, he walked back to take a Post-it note off what she gathered were the reports. He frowned and switched the note from hand to hand, clearly nervous. Then he screwed the paper into a ball and threw it in the bin before heading for the hall.

  He pulled the door closed behind him, sparing a moment to pointedly stare at her through the glass. She gave a nonchalant smile in return then continued to occupy herself with tidying her desk.

  When he walked from view, she booted up her computer and tried to ignore the knots in her stomach. But within moments she stood from her chair and walked over to peer through the office window. She scanned the hall back and forth, and when there was no sign of anyone, she opened the door and strode confidently into Dean’s office.

  A sense of foreboding heightened her senses as she stared down at his desk. She shouldn’t be doing this. Whatever was on that note was none of her business, but apart from the slight niggling of her conscience, nothing else stood in her way of finding out.

  She reached into the bin, plucking the bright yellow Post-it from the pile of trash. Her heart thumped in the back of her throat, and her hands beaded with sweat as she straightened out the paper to read the words written in a scribbled script.

  Great score, you lucky bastard. I can’t believe you finally got her in the sack. I expect a recap of all the sordid details when you get back.

  She blinked, over and over, the pain sinking deep.

  It served herself right for being nosy.

  For being such an easy lay.

  For being so damn stupid.

  She’d known this would happen. She’d known and yet she’d slept with him anyway.

  Why? Why the hell had she deliberately sabotaged herself?

  Good sex and betraying brown eyes. That’s why.

  On numb legs she dragged herself to the sanctity of her office. There was no denying the note was about her. And on the slight chance it wasn’t, her situation would be even worse. The thought of him sleeping with another woman over the weekend made her shudder.

  Either way, the details weren’t important. The damage had been inflicted. Her heart had already been shattered into a million sharp and serrated pieces.

  If Dean could brag about what they’d shared with someone she had to work with, he wasn’t the man she thought he was. The man she wanted him to be. The guy she needed him to be.

  A sardonic laugh escaped as she began to hyperventilate. Anger and humiliation made her eyes burn. This was ridiculous. Her life these past few days was completely insane. From Max, to Dean. What other business relationship could she ruin before another day passed?

  A knock at her door had her scrambling upright as she sniffed away her emotions. “Come in.”

  Max opened the door, his forehead creased in a scowl. “Morning, Beth.” His gruff and distant tone sent a skitter of panic up her spine. “Can you meet me in my office please?”

  He closed the door and strode down the hall before she could respond.

  Great.

  Perfect.

  She counted to ten, taking in a deep breath as she tried not to freak out. He would want to talk about the proposition, and she wasn’t ready. Maybe she never would be. But in her suffocation irrational state, she could see an upside to accepting Max’s offer—it would piss Dean off.

  He would be furious.

  Livid.

  Too bad she couldn’t stomach the thought of taking the necessary steps to enrage him.

  She left her office, wiping her sweaty palms on her suit jacket as she strode down the hall. Mr. Sutherland sat behind his desk, tapping a pen on his keyboard, his brows still creased. She couldn’t remember him ever appearing so severe, his face and demeanor excessively agitated for the conversation she anticipated.

  He glanced up when she stepped into his office and held her gaze for a brief second before motioning for her to sit.

  “Beth.” His gruff tone continued to elevate her heart rate. “I’ve been thinking about this all weekend and I can’t find a way around it. I’ve tried damn hard and there just doesn’t seem to be a way. And I have no clue how to say this, so I’m just going to come out and say it.”

  He was rambling. Max Sutherland, managing director of Sutherland & Son, didn’t ramble, and the realization ramped up her panic like jumper cables to a car.

  “I feel it’s best if you leave your position at Sutherland & Son.”

  Her head jerked back in surprise. Time began to slow as a rush of blood filled her ears like a torrent of water through a cave. She could see his lips moving, but the words were broken and disheveled.

  “I’m sorry…my fault…unfavorable proposition…”

  The scattered pieces of conversation didn’t sink in. Her mind struggled to move past the initial remark about leaving Sutherland & Son. She was beyond confused and, even if she could determine a coherent sentence, the lump in her throat felt too big to speak over.

  “I need to work on my relationship with Dean.”

  That name broke her confusion, giving her something to focus on. Dean’s name usually brought happiness from the mere mention. Now the four letters evoked determination. Frustration. She would not have her career threatened twice in as many minutes by the same man. Squaring her shoulders, she mentally dug in her heels, unwilling to let go of the position she loved.

  “I don’t—” She cleared her throat when the words scraped passed her throat. “I don’t understand. What did I do wrong?”

  He eyed her with sympathy. “It wasn’t you. This situation is entirely my fault.”

  “So why am I being fired?” she cried and averted her gaze while tears took over her vision.

  “Dean and I have had a rough past. I’ve done things I’m not proud of and he’s never forgiven me. I don’t blame him for that.” He released a sigh. “But in the past year things had become easier. He hasn’t been as hostile, and I was beginning to hope there may be a chance to regain the relationship we lost.”

  She met his eyes, the dark brown depths so much like his son’s.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t risk you coming between us. When I propositioned you, I didn’t realize—”

  “I’m not leaving my job,” she seethed. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  He inclined his head. “I know. I admit this situation is entirely my fault, but Dean obviously took the matter to heart. I didn’t propose my intentions to you on a whim last Friday. I asked around to ensure you weren’t in a relationship. I had planned on the offer to be mutually beneficial.”

  She cringed at his choice of words.

  “I didn’t realize Dean still held a grudge against me,” he continued. “And that he would try to punish me for past transgressions by sleeping with you.”

  The a
ir left her lungs, the noise sharp as she flinched.

  Dean had used her to punish his father?

  “You can’t do this.” She stood, concentrating hard on her glare so her tears wouldn’t fall free. “It’s sexual harassment.”

  “Sit down,” he growled.

  The aggression shocked her, making her slump back into her seat like an obedient puppy.

  “You know as well as I do that a sexual harassment case against this company will only discredit your reputation. And I promise it’s unnecessary. You will be financially compensated.”

  He gave her a sad smile. A placating, skin-crawling sad smile. “Look, Beth, you’ve been one of my best employees. And it hurts to let you go, but my son is more important. I won’t lose him again. I won’t make the same mistake twice. So, I plan to offer you financial compensation to leave amicably. I’ve also called some of my contacts and put together a list of companies who would be willing to interview you.”

  Willing to interview her? Did half the city know about her demise before she did?

  Max speaking to people behind her back added more insult to the gaping injury. She had looked up to him for years, had admired him, and he betrayed her with ease.

  The trait must run in the family genes.

  “All I ask is that you agree to leave amicably and sign a statement saying you left on your own terms.”

  A derisive laugh escaped. A breathy, maniacal laugh. She sat there, now numb to the compiling injuries to her ego.

  “When do you want me to finish?” Her voice was ragged, weak, exactly how her body and mind felt.

  “I think it would be best if you left immediately. Continuing your time here will be uncomfortable and I don’t expect you to suffer more because of my mistakes. Having you leave will be a big blow to the business, but that is my burden to bear. I will handle the backlash until Steve can pick up the extra duties.”

  She stared. Her mouth immobile, her throat too thick with gravel, her heartbeat loud enough to cause a threatening migraine.

  In the blink of an eye, her job had vanished. She was unemployed. Her financial stability grew a great big set of eagle wings and flew right out the window.

  If she wasn’t clinging to the last vestiges of her pride, she would have burst into chest-heaving sobs. Instead she stood, raised her chin, and left without a word, heading for the room that would no longer be her office.

  She grabbed an empty archive box from her credenza and started packing personal belongings—her family photos, her lifetime supply of desk snacks, her greeting cards and personal stationery. One by one the items fell into the box, the impact of each sending a stabbing pain to her heart, until the tears stinging her eyes broke free to trail down her cheeks.

  “Oh, babe, what’s wrong?” Angela embraced her before she could glance up.

  Beth tried to speak, opened her mouth numerous times to do so, but all that came out were broken sobs. She’d never been this humiliated and didn’t know how she would admit the mistakes to her family.

  Her father would be embarrassed.

  Her mother would be mortified.

  Shame entered the mix of her turbulent emotions. Apart from sleeping with someone she had feelings for, she hadn’t done anything wrong. But that’s not how it would appear to an outsider. Anyone who didn’t know her high morals would judge her for being cheap and easy.

  Her reputation would be ruined.

  Fire burned in her veins, overpowering her shock and helping to control the rush of tears. When Angela pulled back to stare at her, she diverted her gaze, the concern in her friend’s eyes enough to make her break down all over again. “I’ve gotta go—”

  “What’s going on, B?”

  Fighting to gain control, she let the news out in a rush. “I just got fired.” The answered gasp had her heart taking another nosedive. “And apparently Dean only slept with me to get back at his father.”

  “No fucking way.”

  She wiped her eyes hoping her mascara hadn’t run. “Yes, fucking way.” She slammed the lid on the box and hauled it under her arm. “I’ve gotta get out of here. If I’ve forgotten anything can you please hold it for me and I’ll get it later?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  She breathed deep and willed herself not to crumple. “Okay, I’m outta here.”

  Chapter 13

  Dean’s cock was on a hair trigger, his heart played giddyap horsey, and he couldn’t help smiling at random people like he had mental issues. A guy in the bakery on his way to work had even grinned back in blatant invitation.

  If he hadn’t been in there to buy Beth one of the apricot Danishes she loved so much, he would’ve dropped the money and run. But imagining her savoring every bite like the taste was orgasmic was worth withstanding the lust-filled leer from the guy in white.

  Only thirty-eight hours had passed since they were together and he already missed her. He’d spent the first two hours of the morning picturing the way she would react at seeing him. The way she would divert her eyes, a shy smile showing the faintest hint of dimples, before she unconsciously moistened those gorgeous lips with a lust-filled lick.

  He would sit his ass down on her desk and watch her devour every last crumb of the Danish, enjoying their flirty exchange until he needed to leave for the airport. He didn’t even need to go into the office. He just couldn’t stand the thought of leaving town without seeing Beth first.

  With the current level of his obsession, leaving town for the week was probably the best strategy to stop him from making a total fool of himself. He’d already decided early Sunday morning he wanted to lay everything on the line. To tell her how he felt in vivid technicolor. Removing the emotional baggage from his chest would be a welcome relief.

  He swaggered into the lobby of the high-rise office building with an extra swing in his step, then froze when he recognized Delilah standing alone at the elevator doors.

  She must have sensed him. Had to have. She glanced over her shoulder, meeting his gaze, and her lips pulled into a seductive curve.

  “Dean,” she cooed, turning toward him.

  Fuck.

  He forced his legs to continue forward as the elevator doors opened behind her, the small space now a looming death trap if he had to be stuck inside with this vulture.

  “Morning, Dee.”

  “Morning.”

  She made the word sound like an invitation, the syllables holding a remarkable seductive undertone. She definitely had player skills. Maybe even better than his own. Then again, if she only wanted to play instead of latching her claws in, he would never have had a problem with her.

  He didn’t mind eager women. Dee simply acted obvious to the point of desperation and one night was all he had to offer her. She knew that.

  The elevator closed before he could get inside and he resigned himself to making idle chitchat until the next one arrived.

  “So, when are we going to hook up again?”

  Jesus.

  He masked his surprise behind a friendly laugh. Maybe harmless flirting would’ve been better. He certainly hadn’t been prepared for the blatant come-on.

  “I’m actually seeing someone.”

  There. He made the situation clear and hopefully she would realize the sex they’d shared would stay firmly in the past.

  She cocked her head and looked at him skeptically. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

  He suppressed a scoff. He didn’t care what she believed and let his deep frown speak volumes as he replied in an icy tone. “I’m a changed man, Delilah.”

  She straightened her dainty shoulders and raised her chin. “Well she’s a lucky lady. Just remember—” She moved in close, grasping his bicep while she whispered in his ear. “—I’ll take you any way I can. I don’t care if it’s a little on the side.”

  Had his reputation stretched so far that women thought he had no sexual morals? He clenched the brown paper bag holding the Danish in his fist. With his other hand, he grabbed her
wrist and silently celebrated the perfect timing as the doors to the closest elevator slid open.

  He stared at her, really stared at her, his lips shifting into a genuine smile as he considered his situation from a new perspective. If he committed himself to Beth, which he had every intention of doing, he wouldn’t have to surround himself with women like this anymore.

  He would be free to move on from his mistakes. Free from sterility.

  Invigorated, he raised her hand to his lips to place a kiss on her knuckles. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not—”

  A wounded gasp drew his attention to the inside of the elevator.

  Beth.

  Shit.

  She stood there clutching a box in her hands, her eyes red-rimmed, her face contorted in a mix of shock and rage as her gaze drifted between him and Delilah.

  He dropped Dee’s fingers and stepped back, like a fucking criminal caught in the act.

  Beth stormed forward, mumbling under her breath while she bumped by him.

  “Beth.” Her name left his lips in a plea for her to stop.

  She didn’t falter, didn’t even flinch. She kept striding forward as if he didn’t exist.

  He jogged the few steps to catch up with her and cupped her elbow. “Wait. I was just…” The words died on his lips when she turned to face him, her cheeks now streaked with tears.

  “Get your goddamn hands off me.”

  He complied, her uncharacteristic anger almost enough to make him take a step back. He searched her face, trying to read what was happening behind those glassy green eyes, but she swung away and continued toward the exit.

  What the fuck was going on?

  He followed as she exited the building’s glass sliding doors, the Danish still clutched in his hand. Once outside, he increased his stride, maneuvered himself in front of her, then turned and started walking backward to maintain eye contact.

  “Move.” She hit him with a menacing glare.

  He could barely recognize her under the anger and pain. He was completely clueless to what he’d done wrong. “Talk to me.”

 

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