by Lisa Lace
“Yes, so you’ve met her?” Sam asks in surprise. “Attractive and smart, a lethal combination.”
I picture those fiery green eyes looking up at me defiantly. “I think you should just keep her as a temp for now. It’s only been a couple of days. Let her prove her worth first.”
“Yeah, no problem. As long as I get to see her face every morning, I’ll be a happy guy.” Sam grins at me.
I smile wanly. I wonder if I should tell him the woman he is so fond of punched me earlier this week. I decide to keep the information to myself for now. The air around us buzzed with tension that night, and I was immediately drawn to her despite the issue with the babysitter.
“I’m going to jump in the shower. I’ll see you back at the office,” I say. The cook’s helper is hovering nearby to clean up the table. Her arm is bandaged, and I look at her quizzically.
“Just a sprain, Mr. B.” She smiles. “The wrap helps.”
“We’ll clear the table,” I tell her. “Why don’t you handle some light duties for a while until it’s healed?”
“Mr. B.!” She pushes my hands away. “It’s just a sprain. And clearing dishes is a lighter load!”
Sam looks back and forth between us and sighs. “Jo, we can clear the dishes. We would feel terrible if you did it on your own.”
“You wouldn’t want us to feel terrible, would you?” I tease.
Jo pushes her hair back from her face and blushes. “I—No, I wouldn’t want to do that.” She looks confused for a second, and we use that moment to scoop up the plates.
Ignoring her protests, we deposit the dishes in the sink and remind her to take only light loads.
It is later in the afternoon now, and I arrive back in the office after having stepped out. Jo wasn’t too keen on taking a lighter load so I asked her instead to watch Bella, thinking she wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Instead, Bella took it upon herself to playing some kind of game with the poor maid that may have injured her further.
I don’t know the specifics yet, but the housekeeper is on the line spilling out the story all at once.
“Ms. Bella was bored, you know. So Jo thought it was a good idea to pull out that game—the one where you are on the mat in all kinds of pretzel positions, and anyway, you can imagine what happened.”
I groan and ask her if she can possibly watch Bella until I get there.
“Of course,” Helen agrees quickly.
“And please make sure Jo stays away from any work,” I tell her. “I don’t need her further injuring herself.”
I hang up and sigh. My desk has a growing pile of files that need my attention, and I contemplate which ones are more pressing so I can take care of them at home. I wonder if this is a foolish errand because once Bella sees me home, my motivation disappears as soon as I see her dimpled face.
I look at her framed photo on my desk, nearly hidden by the files. The photo was taken last year at a friend’s wedding. She is standing on my feet while I lead the dance. I still remember her asking me when I will get married so she can have a mommy. It breaks my heart to this day to think of her longing for a mother. I can buy her anything, and I will if that’s what will make her happy. But I know there is no replacement for a mother’s love.
Squaring my shoulders, I grab the top three files and drop them into my portfolio. The rest of the stack will have to wait. I swing by Sam’s office and brief him on the situation at home.
“I had my secretary forward my calls, but I told her you’re still here for a couple of hours so if you can handle something that needs immediate attention—go for it.”
Sam nods absently. “Sure,” he says.
“Everything okay?” I ask. He looks a little lost, and I want to tell him that maybe he should leave with me and come back early in the morning.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Sam says. He goes to his doorway where I am standing and looks at the conference room. “Oh, she left already.”
“Who?” I know who she is already. An image of her flashes through my mind. She was in the conference room earlier today and caught me staring at her from across the hall. Despite being several yards away, I still felt the heat of her piercing gaze. There is an intensity that’s simmering just underneath the surface, and I can’t help but feel consumed by it. I was angry that night following the incident with her, and it still bothers me. But since I found out she works in the office, I’m trying to treat her as a different person. It wouldn’t be a good idea to go back on my personal rule of not getting involved with an employee. After all, it’s served me well thus far.
“You should have her doing things that don’t require your attention,” I advise him lightly. “Just give her things that she can do but don’t require you to have constant contact with her.”
Sam gives me a sidelong glance and nods slowly. For a moment, I feel like he can read my thoughts. “Yeah, okay. I mean, most of the files that Laura’s sorting through are needed now. I don’t need her to go through files from previous clients.”
Laura. How did I not know her name until now? I roll the name over in my mind a few times, and I like the sound of it. The few times I saw her around the office before she holed herself up in the conference room, I admired her classic appearance. She wears a lot of neutral colors that only accentuate those eyes of hers even more.
“What’s her story, anyway? She just graduated?”
“Yeah, and she’s got the drive to match.”
“What was her major?”
“Textiles, design.”
“Huh. Working here is a bit of a stretch. Was she hoping to work with one of the companies that we’ve dealt with?”
“No, when I interviewed her, she seemed content with the position I offered. I specifically told her as an international contractor group, we won’t really require her expertise in design.”
“And she was okay with that?” I always make it a point to get to know the new hires, but I’m especially curious to find out the answers for Laura.
“Yup. She’s actually a good fit, so I’ll have to thank Riley for recommending her.”
“Is she single?” I regret the question as soon as I ask. “I mean, does she have any distractions at home? You know, like a Bella.” I chuckle. Nice save.
Sam frowns into his screen. “Not that I know of. I’m pretty sure she’s kid free.”
His response doesn’t quite satisfy my question, but I don’t want to press further.
“Alright, well you do what you need to,” I say. I try to appear nonchalant, but I am positive my intrusive question betrays my level of interest. Sam doesn’t comment on this, thankfully. He’s too preoccupied with the work in front of him, and I’m glad for that.
With the portfolio under my arm and my jacket in the same hand, I head to the elevator. The doors are just beginning to close, and I rush to push my foot in at the last second. They glide back open, and I duck inside and straight to the back. I see a slight, familiar figure in front of me stiffen. A soft floral fragrance wafts up to my nose, and I stop myself from leaning down to take in all of it.
“Hey, Mr. B.,” Riley says smiling at me. She’s next to the small statue in front of me, and I know it’s her.
“Hey, Riley,” I say. I try to sound casual and ask her about things in her department. She doesn’t bring up seeing me on the weekend, and I am relieved. I’ve always known Riley to be a bit on the blunt side. This wasn’t necessarily a bad trait. In fact, I’ve found it helpful. But she is keeping quiet about the whole situation which suits me just fine.
She begins to prattle on about something in her department. I can’t concentrate on what she is saying because I am acutely aware of how close Laura is to me. She has had to move back slightly and to the side when a few more people filled the elevator. She’s standing next to me, her breast is brushing against my arm, and I grit my teeth trying to control myself. The heat that her body is giving off leads me to believe she is feverish. There is no way this is her normal body temperature. I look down at her face and
see her cheeks are flushed. That confirms it. I try not to think about how hot she can get and what kind of things will get her that hot.
I feel myself harden and have to suppress a moan threatening to escape my lips. I have not had a date in a little over two months, but this kind of reaction is unprecedented. I wonder if her allure is partly due to her fiery nature. Given my position, I find that most people are willing to please, and women are especially eager to do so. Finding a woman who isn’t throwing herself at me is refreshing. It intrigues me, and I long to see her passionate responses in bed. Picturing her underneath me with her hooded green eyes on me nearly sends me over the edge.
“So anyway, I was able to take care of it, and I passed the work onto Sam. He said he’d look into it and probably run it by you,” Riley says with a toss of her hair.
I forgot that she was still talking, and I strain to recall what she was talking about. She mentioned Sam, so I make a mental note to ask him about it later. The elevator doors finally open and a rush of air comes in, giving me much needed oxygen. The crowd that had gathered in front of us filters out slowly, their heads bent over their phones.
I watch as she walks out stiffly ahead of me. When she was standing close to me, I didn’t have a chance to admire her, but now I do. She is wearing a plain white sleeveless blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt with spiky black heels with illusion lace detail. She is petite, but her legs seem to go for miles up into her skirt. The tight skirt accentuates her firm butt, and I have to force myself to tear my eyes away. Her hair is wound into a bun that looks like it was more severe in the morning but loosened as the day wore on. I want to release the pins and watch it tumble down around her face. I thought her hair was light brown, but now it looks like copper, a perfect complement to her eyes.
She turns her face halfway to see me staring at her. I don’t break the gaze. I want her to know I’m watching her. I’m rewarded with seeing gold flecks in her eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. They sparkle at me, maybe out of defiance. Possibly in response to the heat and energy my own body is giving off.
Our eyes are locked on each other, and it’s hard to say who breaks the gaze first. Riley is tugging on Laura’s arm, and it seems to jolt us both back to reality. I know I am not alone in feeling the connection that we share. After I see them disappear outside, I pause just inside the building and make a call to my secretary.
“Can you pull the background check on Laura?” I ask without preamble.
“Laura?” Norma tilts her head. “Oh, you mean the temp! Samuel’s gal.”
I grit my teeth at this proclamation and force the words out of my mouth. “Yes. The temp. I need the file he has on her.”
As I drive home, I drum my fingers on the wheel and contemplate my next move. Once I have everything I need to know about her spread out in front of me, what can I do with it? I won’t know until I see what there is to know, of course. But I feel an excitement coursing through me. One way or another, I will sleep with her, and maybe then I will get her out of my system. Until then, I will find out whatever I can about the woman that has taken over my thoughts since the moment I saw her.
Laura
“I’m just saying that it’s time to get back out there,” Riley says. She is thumbing through a catalog someone has left in the break room. “You have no idea how many guys will line up if you show the slightest interest in dating.”
I stir my coffee quietly and think of a way to change the topic. But I know Riley. When she sinks her teeth into something, she doesn’t let go until she’s satisfied. It’s Friday now, and she is still hell bent on getting me a date.
“I don’t know what you mean by interest,” I reply. “You act as if I have a sign on my back that says I don’t date. How am I supposed to show interest exactly?”
“I don’t know.” Riley frowns at me. “But you definitely give off this vibe that you want nothing to do with men. If I can feel it, you can be damned sure men are feeling it.”
“Maybe I’m not interested in men,” I say coyly.
Riley snorts. “Okay. So where are the women then? Have you dated any I don’t know about?”
“No,” I concede. I’m about to say more, but I’m rescued by Samuel’s entrance.
“My two favorite ladies.” He smiles at us. “Mind if I join you for a bit? I could use some extra coffee today.” He stops to pour himself a cup at the counter.
Riley gestures to an empty seat, giving him a wide smile. I smile back at him too and make a note to ask her about him later. Even though it’s my first week, I can tell he’s a great boss. He doesn’t micromanage, but he’s always available to answer questions. I enjoy the easy banter he has with everyone, myself included. It makes the work environment that much more relaxed.
“So Laura, now that you’re almost done with your first week, can you tell me how you’re adjusting? Is there anything we can do to make it easier for you?” He and his brother share many of the same features, and I find myself searching his face to see Maxwell.
Riley gives me a pointed look when she catches me staring, and does a terrible job of hiding her grin before answering for me. “She’s incredible, isn’t she? Even in college, she was always buried in her work. She’s one of those single-minded individuals; she barely even went out. Believe me, we tried our best to distract her from all that studying. But landing a job here fresh out of college means the sacrifice was worth it.”
One side of Samuel’s face kicks up in approval. “It’s rare to see that level of dedication so early on, so we’re happy to have you with us.”
“On the other hand, I was just telling her she needs to go out more to keep the balance. I can’t very well carry the weight of that burden all on my own.”
We laugh at her joke, and I notice Sam lingers on Riley a bit before looking back at me. “Maybe we can change her mind about socializing again. I think with all the work I’m giving you, you’ll need an excuse to pull away and unwind.”
“Good luck getting her out there.” Riley groans into her mug. “You have no idea how stubborn she can be.”
“Speaking of that work, I have a ton of files that you dropped off this morning, so I’d better dig into those,” I say, backing out of the room. “You’re free to listen to Riley, but please take what she says with a grain of salt. She tends to exaggerate, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
I hear their sounds of protests as I leave and smile to myself. After the past few months of struggling with all the debt I’ve accumulated, it feels good to find some stability. I have a job, a growing circle of friends, and more opportunities to look forward to in the future. In a way, I’m thankful that my ex-fiancé cheated on me. I know that it sounds funny, but he did me a favor, in a sense. His unfaithfulness not only saved me from a terrible marriage, but it forced me to focus all my energy on finishing school and making myself eligible for big career opportunities.
I was thrilled when I got an internship opportunity in Milan until I realized that the pay was so little that I would basically be working for free. Steeped in debt, I had little choice but to turn it down. While I was aware of student loans collecting interest, I hadn’t anticipated the damage that it would do. Working hard through college wasn’t enough. I’d made some meager payments, but they barely put a dent in what I owed. Now that I have this temp job, I intend to work as hard as I did in college and make it into a permanent position.
My career path into the fashion industry will just have to wait. I know I can get another offer from designers but only as an intern, at best. If I’m being realistic, and I am, this job is the best thing that I can hope for at the moment. The experience here will hopefully give me some window of opportunity since they have a lot of international dealings.
Humming to myself, I open the door to the conference room and see a pint-sized cherub giggle and whiz past me to circle around the large table in the center of the room. Three receptionists in pointed heels chase after her, ill-equipped to deal with the tiny tor
nado of a girl who’s racing between stacks of paper, ruffling them with her speed.
“Can you close the door?” One of them looks at me in exasperation. “If she leaves this room, we’re dead.”
“Yeah. If we can’t catch her in a contained place, we have no hope once she leaves the room,” the second woman agrees.
The third is about to speak, but can only let out a squeak when she sees the little girl climbing on top of the table to march from one end to the other.
I laugh out loud and clap my hands. This little girl, as small as she is, has three uptight women losing their minds. They look at me in irritation, but I ignore them because the little girl catches my eye and gives me the naughtiest, yet most innocent look. I just can’t get enough. She is adorable and just what I need to end the week on a high note.
“Hi, I’m Laura. Can I help you down from there?” I ask her. I’m not expecting her to say yes. She looks like she’s having far too much fun giving these other women hell.
She assesses me carefully with her hands on her hips. I take a moment to appreciate her attire. She’s wearing a pink bow in her hair, pink cowgirl boots, purple tights, a light blue leotard with a ninja emblazoned on it, and a tutu with colorful pom-poms dancing around inside of it.
“Nice outfit. I wish I could have you pick my outfits. I don’t have anything quite as colorful,” I tell her woefully.
She brightens and throws herself on her bottom to scoot to the edge. Her chubby legs dangle off the table for a moment before she takes my hand and jumps off. “I pick all my outfits,” she boasts proudly.
“I can see that. I think grown-ups pick a lot of boring outfits. What do you think?” We both look at the other women, who wear uniform-like black skirts and white tops, except one receptionist, who is wearing a pale pink top.
The little girl wrinkles her nose. “Yeah,” she agrees. She turns her attention towards my outfit, and I cringe a little.
“Not that good either, huh?” I ask her. For some reason, I desperately want her approval.