by Kayla, Mia
“I think it’s fine as is.” I tugged the fabric away from him, frustrated with myself, mostly at wanting him so badly. “Susan, I think this is it.”
But when I turned around, Susan was nowhere to be seen. She must have sensed all the sexual tension that filled every corner of the room.
Connor noticed she was gone too, because he stepped into me and reached for my hand. “Charlie …”
The way he said my name was like heaven and a curse all at once.
When I tried to pull my hand away, he tightened his hold and pulled me closer.
“What?” I snapped, beyond annoyed, mostly sexually frustrated.
“I’m tired.”
“Then, go home. We’re practically done. All we need is a wedding dress. I can …”
“I’m tired of fighting my attraction, my feelings toward you.”
The muscles in my neck tightened, and I simply stared at him.
When I didn’t say a word, he continued, “I know you’re attracted to me too.”
No comment. No words left my mouth because how the hell was I going to deny that?
I was in a zombie-like phase. When he tugged me forward, I moved on his command.
His palm squeezed my hip, and my chest pressed against his. When his eyes flickered toward my lips, my nipples pebbled beneath this shirt that I didn’t own.
“It’s so hard, being near you and not kissing you.” His nose grazed my chin and up my cheek, making it up to my ear. “I’m really trying to fight this … fight this attraction for you. I need you to stop being so damn cute, crazy brilliant, and funny, so I can stop wanting to touch you … everywhere.”
I hadn’t realized I was holding his arms so tightly. I wondered if he would bruise.
I closed my eyes as his lips made it to the crook of my neck. “We can’t. You’re … my … boss.”
“I’m not technically your direct boss who does your reviews. What happens between us has nothing to do with how your reviews will go.”
I exhaled when he pressed into me, making sure I knew very well how much he wanted me. “You’re leaving …”
He pulled back, searching my face. “I am.” There was a finality in his tone as though he’d just said the sky was blue. “Can’t we just have some fun and see where this goes?”
I blinked up at him and stepped back as a heavy sensation settled in my gut. It was like a slap directly in my face. “You mean, sex without attachment.”
“Charlie …”
I smiled, and it was a sinister smile because that was what it was—just sex unless he expected me to uproot my life here and leave my mom and move to New York to be with him when we hardly knew each other. Yeah. Right. And I was sure that wasn’t what he was offering.
“You said I was smart, right?” I lifted my chin, staring at him straight. The arousal I’d felt for him a minute ago was all gone as though it’d never happened. “Well, then, stop talking. You know what? I’m tired too. I’m just going to let Susan pick the wedding dress based on my concepts.”
I moved past him, toward the exit of the fitting room, but he caught my wrist again.
“Charlie, stop!”
I flipped to face him. “No. You stop. Stop touching me. Stop thinking of me in any way other than your employee. Stop it all.” I shoved an angry finger into his chest. “You begged me to help you, help you save your parents’ company, and I have and continue to do so. And what do I get for it?” I threw up my hands. “An offer to sex you up with no strings attached. Thanks, but no thanks. Even with you and your promise to introduce me to Nui Cavinchi and her colleagues, you can hold nothing over my head.” I got in his face so close that I could feel his warmth radiating from his body. “I have way more self-esteem and self-worth than you give me credit for.”
I swiveled toward the door, practically running out.
Chapter 17
Connor
I felt like the biggest dick, only thinking with my dick. She’d had every right to call me out for being a jackass because I was. Hands down, I was.
She insisted that she call an Uber, and I had to practically beg to just let the limo drive her home so that she could make it to dinner with her mom. I told her that the limo would drop me off at the office and that she’d have the ride all to herself. We’d only be in the limo for a short period of time.
It took some convincing, and I didn’t blame her.
I opened her door, and she slid in the limo. I was formulating my words because, Sorry I’m a horny bastard and I want your body, was a shitty apology, and I needed my next words to count. Not only so she’d continue to work on this project with me, but also because I wanted her to know that I didn’t think of her as some side chick who could get me off and then I’d be done with her.
I respected her more than that.
Her head was turned toward the window, as though I weren’t in the car.
“Charlie …” My heart raced in my chest. Yes, I wanted her, but right now, I wanted forgiveness more.
“Hmm?” she said, not taking her gaze from the outside.
“I’m sorry,” I rushed out. I had this grand speech on how I valued her and that I was sorry that I had come on to her like that, strong and over the top. But my words got stuck in the back of my throat at the need to have her forgiveness.
“Yep,” she said.
I stared at her profile, the strong set in her jaw, her focus at nothing in general out the window.
“I’d never hold anything above your head. I will introduce you to Nui because you’re talented, and everyone needs to see what you have to offer the world.” I swallowed. “It’s one of the reasons I like you …” My voice trailed off. It was the truth. I was attracted to her, but I was also attracted to her crazy, beautiful mind and her creativity.
“I can’t deny”—I cleared my throat—“that I want you.” I shifted and wrung my hands in my lap. I swore I had never experienced such anxiety before. I’d stood, giving speeches, in front of boardrooms, in front of the whole Colby’s factory, in front of companies in New York on the verge of failure and I was their only hope, but, shit, that felt like peanuts to this. “And I’m sorry.” My eyes dropped to the floor of the limo. “I don’t know what else to say.”
Her shoulders began to shake. Is she crying?
Shit. Shit. Shit. I didn’t want her to cry.
She swiped at her eyes, and panic seized me. What a way to end the night.
But she wasn’t crying.
When she turned my way, I realized that she was laughing—not a little laughing, but full-on stomach shaking, tears-running-down-her-cheeks laughter.
My lips turned up because she was so damn adorable.
“I can’t deny”—broken huffs left her lips—“that I want you.” She cowered into herself, and when she met my eyes, her laughter heightened. “ ‘And I’m sorry’?” She threw up both hands. “What kind of apology is that?”
I laughed then because she was right.
Man, I knew I had it bad because I inched closer even with everything that had happened to us earlier. “Well, it’s your fault really …”
Her eyes narrowed, but amusement was heavy on her face.
Our knees touched, and my smile widened to match hers. “I’m sorry that you’re so damn creative and that I need you to save the company that I probably can’t even save myself. I’m sorry that your artistic ability is out of this world and that I’m honestly jealous. I wish I had an ounce of creative juices in my genes.”
“Well, you know”—she flipped her hair over her shoulder in an exaggerated effect—“not everyone can be like me with my big, fat creative brain.”
I laughed. “But most of all, I’m sorry that I can’t keep my hands to myself—or my eyes obviously. I’m sorry I’m just so attracted to you. I am not joking when I say I don’t recall a time where I’ve felt an attraction this strong for anyone else before.”
Her smile slipped, but I kept on going, trying to keep it light but be seri
ous.
“And I promise you, I won’t touch you or make you feel uncomfortable in my presence. I value our friendship, Charlie. Above all, I want to keep that intact.”
All humor vanished from the limo, and I sucked in a breath, waiting for her response, any response.
“Forgive me?” I added when there was a long stretch of silence between us.
After a beat, her shoulders relaxed, and she bumped her shoulder against mine.
“All’s forgiven.” Her eyebrows scrunched together. “And just because we’re in the oversharing mood, I’ve pictured you having me on your desk multiple times.”
I coughed and choked on my own saliva.
She patted my back and grinned. “But we can’t go there. I can count my sexual partners on one hand.” She lifted two fingers.
I nearly choked again. I mean, seriously, how was this woman still single?
“And I don’t want my third to be with someone who is leaving.”
“Yeah, I get that.” There was a strand of hair over her left brow, and I wanted to brush it away. My fingers itched at my side, so I fisted my hands instead. “And I’ll promise to stop staring, only if you promise to wear baggy jeans all the time and not bounce when you walk. I can’t stop staring at your, ahem …” And now that I knew how they felt in my palms, I wanted—
Stop!
“I do not bounce.”
My eyes flickered to her breasts, which were covered underneath her coat. “You do.”
Her arms crossed over her chest. “Stop staring at my boobs.”
My eyes moved to her face. “See, done.”
“Can we really do this?” she sighed and bit her lip in a nervous gesture. “Be platonic friends when my nipple was in your mouth only hours before?”
My eyes flashed, and I licked my lips. “We have to, right?”
She nodded. “Yes, we have to.”
Charlie
My mother and I went to one of our favorite restaurants, Pasta Scolla. We were seated at a corner booth. I cherished times like this, just the two of us alone, spending quality time together. But my mind kept wandering to what had happened earlier with Connor, to what had transpired between us. There was no way I could go there, not when he was leaving and we had to work together.
“So, how was work today, honey?”
Wasn’t that the loaded question of the day?
“It was interesting …” I began because I couldn’t exactly tell her the whole truth. So, I told her what I could. “So, I’m helping with the rebranding and packaging of Colby Chocolates. That’s why I’ve been working weekends.”
She leaned in, her elbows on the table, one eyebrow raised. “Rebranding? Is that related to your job or added work?”
I reached for a piece of bread in the center of the table, swirling it in my oil. “Added work, but it’s okay. The CEO’s son asked me to help with ideas. He saw a mock-up I had done and—”
“The CEO’s son?” Her eyes narrowed. “Why would he ask you, the computer tech girl, to help him with that—with rebranding and stuff like that?”
“I told you, he saw some of my drawings and—”
“I’m just saying, honey … he’s a guy, and I’d be a little—”
“I’m not naive, Mom.” My jaw tightened. I knew where she was going with this. Yes, Connor had hit on me, but that was way after our initial deal. And even though he wanted to take things further, I’d definitely put him in his spot.
My mother’s face softened. “I’m just looking out for you, honey.”
“There’s no reason to.” I wanted to tell her that after my father had passed and before Richard had come along, I’d been looking out for the both of us.
I placed my hand over my mother’s on the table and squeezed. “I know. Thanks, Mom.”
After the waitress placed our pasta dishes on the table, I reached for my fork and smiled. “This is nice. I feel like we never get alone time anymore.”
The corner of my mother’s mouth tipped up. “Yeah, this is nice. I’m glad your schedule worked out.”
“Remember when you and Dad would take me out for school-ditch days?”
She shook her head, her gaze focusing on her plate. “That was all your dad. Gosh, I’d try to convince him out of that, the importance of school and all, but, yeah … now that he’s gone, those were the most memorable times.” Her voice quieted to a hush.
There were times that I didn’t want to bring him up at all because it just reminded my mother that he was no longer here. But there were so many memories that I wanted to reminisce about.
“Remember when he kidnapped me in the middle of the day? He walked into school and told the front desk that it was an emergency. I had so much anxiety until he drove to pick you up, and we went to the zoo.” I laughed, reliving the memory. I must have been eleven or twelve.
My mother shook her head. “I’d always pretend to be mad at him for doing such things, and he’d always try to make me laugh to break me out of my mood.”
“It worked though, didn’t it?”
Her eyes crinkled at the sides as she met my gaze. “Each and every time.” She let out a sad sigh.
We were quiet for a long beat.
“I miss him,” I said.
She nodded, her stare dropping back to the table as she twirled her fork in the tomato-sauced spaghetti.
Why could she never say it back? Was it a sin to miss him? I knew she did. She could still be happy yet miss my father.
I was always walking on eggshells when talking to her about my father, about my paintings, about everything. I hadn’t even confronted her about the paintings that had been thrown out in the garbage, not wanting to get into an argument.
“I scheduled this dinner to also talk about a few things.” My mother forked the first of her pasta into her mouth. “I know you’ve made some friends at work, and I’m really glad you’re making a life here.”
“You should meet Alyssa and Casey,” I gushed. “Casey talks nonstop. Alyssa is crass but sweet. They are like yin and yang—opposites in every sense of the word, but they balance each other perfectly. I’d like to think I’m the even-keeled one.”
My smile hurt my cheeks. Seriously, they were my silver lining in this world of new and crazy. I stuffed more pasta in my mouth, letting it fill my belly with all its goodness.
“That’s great, baby. Really. But I’d like it if you spent some time with Sandy too.”
I felt the color drain from my face, my fork stilled midair.
Sandy? This dinner is about Sandy?
“She’s been having a hard time with the transition, and I’m trying to make it easier for her …”
Easier for Sandy? My whole body tensed.“How about me?” I said, finally finding the strength in my voice. “Don’t you think it’s been hard for me, moving here, leaving my friends, my life, everything I’d ever known?”
“Honey”—she raised her hand—“you didn’t even let me finish my sentence. I just want to make this easier for the both of you. It’s been a transition for all of us. Me included. All I’m saying is that you try.”
My fork pinged against my plate. “I have been trying. I’ve been trying since the very first day when we were introduced, and she said one word to me. It was as if I were talking to myself the whole time. She’s the one who’s evil.”
“That’s harsh.”
“Harsh? What’s harsh is purposely making my life hell. How about scheduling dinners with just you guys, purposely not including me?”
“It’s not like that.”
“How about stealing my shit? She stole my suit on my interview day. Or how about how she purposely ordered a zero for my bridesmaid dress when she knew I wouldn’t fit in it? She consistently tries to undermine me. She doesn’t want me to even be in the house—even if it’s the pool house. She consistently reminds me that it’s her father’s house, not mine.” My tone heightened with fury with each breath that left my mouth. I wasn’t going to waste my words, eve
n telling my mother she’d only gotten me the job because Richard had firmly asked her to.
“She’s just having a hard time through this. You’re more resilient.”
“Why? Because my father died? Is that why you think that? That I can handle more because of all that I’ve been through?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but I was done.
“No, Mom. Sorry, but I’ve tried numerous times. I’m done trying.”
I had no more energy to give that woman. I was done with one-sided relationships.
My chest tightened as I forced my gaze back down to the plate of uneaten food. This—her plan for us time—was all about Sandy. I should’ve canceled with my mother and had dinner with Connor instead.
Chapter 18
Connor
My foot tapped on the floor as I waited for the coffee to brew in the coffee room. Employees scattered around in typical, normal workday fashion.
Over the next few days after our limo event, I had been good. As good as I could be. I set everything in motion. Called up Wyatt, one of my friends from Chicago who owned his own production company, a subsidiary of Bill Hendrick’s Corp., the biggest media conglomerate in the world.
I had to save money where I could, so using my contacts was my best bet in doing that.
The best way in keeping things platonic between me and Charlie was to avoid seeing her altogether, but shit, that was hard. I settled on just keeping our run-ins short and sweet, but it didn’t stop me from walking to the break room, knowing all the girls would be there, and getting some chips from the vending machine even though I didn’t really want chips.
It didn’t stop me from walking the floor, just to get a glimpse of her.
I’d spend more time with her when we filmed this weekend.
I told myself time and time again that staying away from her was for the best. Given her minimal experience with men, any drawn-out sexual relationship would not be good, especially with me leaving. I didn’t want her wanting more, and I didn’t want to hurt her in any way.
Platonic.