by Jax Hart
She responded in less than an hour. Grinning, as we exchanged flirty messages, then pictures…I forgot all about my former PA’s body as I checked out pictures of my date’s bare legs from mid-thigh down. She was also in bed doing work… we already had a lot in common. Then I emailed the temp agency, requesting a new PA. Since PA’s have been revolving doors in my office, I decided to make a list of traits I was looking for: responsible, seasoned, punctual, preferably married. Wait no, I should scratch that out. An unhappily married PA might harass me. Satisfied with my short list I hit send.
Eight
My eyes narrowed as I scanned the documents on my desk, “And there it is. You mothers.” Hidden under a sub clause of a sub clause were two sentences that would screw my firm over if they signed. It stated if the fund doesn’t perform at a twenty-percent yield—the money managing firm would get a pay back of original funds.
Fuck no.
That’s not how this worked.
I reached for my highlighter, grasping air.
It was gone.
I opened my drawers. None.
I felt a slight headache coming on. Although I knew I did the right thing by firing my last three PA’s. But now I’m stuck with her… she gives as good as she gets. Doesn’t kiss my ass or arrange my pens and highlighters by color. I kind of miss my color-coded highlighter arrangement.
Sighing, I pressed the intercom button for Bunny. She was in her mid-sixties. A widower with all her kids grown. A few even had grandkids. So far, she was the best, but also the worst PA.
“Mr. Carmichael?”
“Honey Bun,” I drawled. “I need some new highlighters. Stat.”
“You’re having a highlighting emergency?”
“SOS. Bun. Bun.”
My lips curved. I love teasing the shit out of her. Because she never took it.
“I’m busy.”
“Busy, working for me.”
I raised my eyes, meeting hers through the glass walls of my office.
“I can see your eyeroll from here, honey bun.”
She scowled, tore her eyes away from her computer and stood. “I’ll check the supply closet.”
My neck ached, so I got up to stretch. I noticed I was out of binder clips, so I decided to follow Bun down the hall.
She was on the tippy toes of her practical beige flats, trying in vain to reach the box of highlighters on a shelf just out of her grasp.
I sauntered forward, reaching over her, trapping her small body between me and the shelves. “I’ll get them.”
She turned, flustered. Her cheeks, bright red. “You scared me. You rascal.”
I arch a brow. “Did I?”
She swatted my arm. “Stop flirting with me.”
“Please. I’m just helping the elderly.” I tweaked her nose.
She shook her head. “Someday, some woman is going to come along…knock you for six and take you down a peg.”
“Not likely.”
She pushed me out of the way. “Stop flashing those eyes at me,” she grumbled under her breath walking out.
“Hey bun?! I’d like an iced Sweet Tea from the café with a grilled steak salad.”
“I’m your PA not your delivery girl. Besides, what man eats a salad for lunch?”
“The kind who has a six-pack.”
“And is on a calendar…”
“What?” I spun around, narrowing my eyes. Ten feet behind me was Brett Diersky. My work nemesis. He’s older than me but I got the jump on him career-wise, and he can’t stand it.
“You heard me… Mr. July.”
He opened up a calendar, flipping the pages before turning it around. By now, heads popped up from cubicles and more people than normal lingered by the instant coffee machine.
Silence followed. I think half the office was shocked I actually did it. Me, the squeaky clean—no flirting with anyone under thirty—up and coming golden boy posing in skintight shorts for the world to see.
Charlie promised me it’d be a local New York calendar. How the heck did it end up here?
“Gimme that,” I walk forward, ripping it from his hands.
“What’s wrong Carmichael? Your tighty stars n’ stripes get you in a wad? I bought ten more when I was in New York on business last week. I looked up your sister. Didn’t she tell you?”
A cruel, ‘I don’t give a shit smile’ broke out on my face. I sauntered forward. “Ten? Why so you can tack me up on your wall and beat to me at night? I knew I was your dream man, Diersky.”
His face turned purple. “Fuck you.”
I spun on my heel, this time letting the tips of my shoes touch his. “Still pissed I got the promotion? Face it, Brett. I’m smarter than you, work harder than you and—I broke off, pointing to my calendar pic, “way better looking than you. Stay away from Charlie,” I hissed. “Or I’ll settle this after hours with my fist.”
I winked at the college intern hovering by the kitchenette. “Here you go, sweetheart.” I pressed the calendar in her hand, strode back into my office and sat back down to mark the contract. It takes a lot to piss me off to the point of violence but Diersky was there. What the heck was he doing calling my sister? My head has been so buried in contracts; I didn’t see him gunning so hard for me.
I picked up my phone, dialing Char. I just needed to know why she’d think it’d be a good idea to sell the biggest douche in my company calendars with me in them when she knows how serious I take my career.
“Chase? You never call in the middle of a work day.”
“Hello to you too, sis.”
“Uh-oh. I know that tone in your voice.”
“Diersky?”
“Oh, him? Yeah, he’s a loser with a capital L.”
“I could’ve told you that if you had called me, Char. Why does he have my calendar?”
She sighed. “He phoned my office; told me he was a co-worker of yours. I looked him up on your company website… so I knew he was legit. Anyway, he practically begged me to get into the Gala at The Hall. He saw on the social media promos I was the chair. So, I did him a favor and got him in. We sold out of all the calendars at the event that night. He must’ve seen them and saw you.”
“Fuck me.”
“No, but dozens of women probably want to….”
“Thanks to you.”
“Come on. It was for charity.”
“How much did you raise to save the dolphins?”
“100k.”
“What?”
“The calendars were such a hit we mass produced more after January…. And well they get twenty dollars apiece.”
I smacked my forehead. “I’m never doing a favor for you again.”
“What? Is being a sex symbol hard for you?”
“There’s so much more to me than my tan and six pack…”
“Like what? Besides, your colossal ego, little bro.”
“Little?”
“I am two minutes older so technically, yes.”
“Smart ass. Stay away from Diersky if he goes back to New York.”
“Got it. How’s the beach house?”
“I just booked my first weekend rental to a couple expecting.”
“That’s perfect because I was showing Carlos the listing and well…,”
“Stop right there.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. Char has that tell in her slightly elevated voice. I knew what came next and was helpless to defend myself against it.
“It’s really quite exquisite. A real find and Carlos pitched it to Southern Living… they are doing a whole summer spread on most wanted beach homes.”
“Fuck, Char. Again?”
“Not you—you can keep your clothes on. He just wants to shoot the house. I know you’ll make the cover and just think of all the bookings you’ll get after being featured.”
“I’ll think about it,” I replied.
“…ugh… well… I already said yes for you.”
I closed my eyes feeling a headache come on. “Who needs a wife with
a sister like you?” I hung up, opening my eyes to the spreadsheets I was working on. I pressed the button for Bunny’s direct line. “Bun, bun. I need a water and three Advil.”
“Not your nurse.”
“Bun, please. I’m dying.”
“Man baby.”
“You’re fired, Bun.”
Her response was a snort and the dial tone. Two minutes later she came in with an ice-cold water and three white pills.
“You’re a lifesaver, Bun. Hold all my calls.”
She rolled her eyes, shutting my door with a soft click. After taking the pills, I got back to the spreadsheets.
The rest of it was straight forward. After I amended it, I sent it to the partners to sign.
A soft tap at my door had me looking up. “Come in,” I smiled softly as Bunny tip toed in. “I finished all the work you gave me. I’m taking the rest of the afternoon off. It’s bridge night at my house and I need to make my special spinach and artichoke dip.”
“Good for you Bun. You’ve got more of a social life than I do. Did I tell you I’m a real card shark? By chance do you play for money?”
She waved a hand. “You and a bunch of old ladies playing cards. We’ll need a defibrillator. Especially when they see the new calendar I’m going to put up in my kitchen. Diersky had spares.”
I grinned. “I know you checked out my abs.”
“Oh you,” she waved her hand. “I have cataracts. Can’t see further than five inches from my face.”
“Bullshit, Buns. You saw.”
“You all act like children. Don’t worry about Diersky. The women in the office call him ‘douchebag Diersky.’”
“Douchebag Diersky,” I muttered under my breath. “Fitting.”
“He wined and dined Beth in accounting for two months then dumped her flat. She caught him out on Valentine’s Day with Annabelle from HR.”
“He gets around the office… stupid. One wrong lay and a woman can ruin your career. I’d never sleep where I work if you know what I mean.”
“I do. Smart. Rich. Talented and one heck of a six-pack. If only I was forty years younger…”
“I knew you looked.” I winked.
“Why are you single?”
I shrugged. “Too busy climbing the corporate ladder.”
“Pathetic excuse.”
“I’m in no rush.”
My cell dinged with a text, distracting me. Bun left muttering under her breath about this generation of men being metrosexual babies. I’m hardly that. I can’t help it if I inherited my father’s southern charm when I choose to turn it on. Truthfully, teasing a sixty-year-old woman is the highlight of my stressful corporate day. I thought bringing home the bacon with the shiny gold plaque on my office door would make me happy. I’ve been looking to capture the same feelings I had ever since those beach days when Char and I were kids. Before we grew up too fast. Before we truly knew what shitheads our parents were. I picked up my cell. I’d been blowing Hunter off, spending all my time at the shore. He wanted me to meet him for Happy Hour at the new martini bar. My eyes cut to the bank of windows to my left. Part of me wanted to crash Bunny’s card game just for fun. The old woman brought out the best in me at the office. Probably because I don’t have to worry about her trying to land me or dream of me and a Range Rover with a car seat strapped in the back. I texted Hunter back that it’s on. This weekend is the first in many that I won’t be at my shore house. The place has grown on me. Becoming such a labor of love. I’m in love with my house. There I said it. Every newly painted wall was done by me. Every shiplapped surface took hours of precise measurement. I’d be nervous about letting strangers stay in my baby, but Ryan’s emails were professional. I mean who would lie about having a relaxing weekend for his pregnant girlfriend. Everything would be fine. I was sure of it.
Nine
I really needed to get laid. It was raining dicks. Dicks were even in my hair. I had watched, laughing hysterically as Kells took a bat to the dick pinata. When she got a good whack in, gummy dicks went flying. “Mmm,” she shoved a handful in her mouth. “Never tasted better.”
Club music was blasting from the wireless speakers connected to Hannah’s phone. Jenna, Rachel, and Ciara were dancing to the beat. In their hands were dick-shaped plastic glasses. Inside were the margaritas I had blended. Hannah was the only snob drinking red wine.
“I’m having so much fun! This place is perfect! It’s exactly what I wanted.” I put an arm around my friend.
“I’m so glad.” Everyone was drunk but the two of us. I decided to lay off just so Kells would have one coherent friend to commiserate with.
“Are you okay? Don’t bullshit, me.”
“I am. I really am. But it would be easier if Wade and Sierra weren’t constantly making out everywhere.”
“Where’s Soph?”
“She’s coming later.” Truthfully, our other friend was bringing the stripper. She found him on Craigslist. He was going to charge for gas and tolls, so she offered to drive him out tonight and back in the morning. I had no idea where he was going to sleep, but judging by how buzzed the ladies were, if he was hot as a stripper should be, he’ll probably bill per cuddle-hour.
“It’s so windy out! Crazy!”
The branches from the Crepe Myrtle trees outside scratched the window. I took the empties to the kitchen frowning. I had turned on all outside flood lights. The waves were enormous swells. Rain was turning to freezing rain. The small icy pellets hit the windowpane.
“You made it!” Kell screeched from the other room. Sighing in relief, Soph came in, her hair wet and windswept. Hannah turned off the lights, and the beat changed. Even I hooted as the hottie with oiled up pecs strode in. He was built. Shorter than Wade but made like a body builder. I’d never seen so much muscle in my life. Hannah fanned herself as he invited her to feel his flexed bicep.
“I’m the bride!” Kells waved her arms. He gyrated over, rested his body weight on the back of the couch and grinded his spandex-covered package inches from her body. Hannah, grinded up on him from behind. It was hot. So hot, my face flushed. Just then the lights flickered. Soph tripped as everything went pitch dark, colliding into Hannah, who fell onto the stripper who fell onto Kells.
“Kells!” I screamed, worried about the baby. I tapped the flashlight function on my phone. They were piled on top of one another. Hannah’s red wine was all over the white couch. Everyone laughed hysterically, but all I could think of was the nice man who rented me his house.
I raced to the kitchen, opened bottled water, grabbing towels. “What are you doing?” Hannah finally moved from her spot still on top the stripper.
“Your wine. It’s going to stain.”
“So? It’s a rental. This shit probably happens all the time. You need to take that stick out of your ass. It’s no wonder Wade dumped you. You’re so uptight. Have some fun.”
“Hannah…” Kells warned.
“I’m gong to look for candles and flashlights.” I left before anyone could see me cry. Hannah was such a bitch. It was hard to believe her and Kell were such good friends. I opened drawers and cabinets, not finding anything. There was a cabinet above the fridge, but I couldn’t reach. Moving a barstool from the kitchen island, I climbed on. “Bingo.” Inside was a lighter for a grill, one flashlight and a… Christmas present? Half-torn paper was still on a box. I took it out hoping to find candles, instead I found…him. He looked determined. His shirt was half ripped off, exposing tan pecs. His abs made my mouth water. But it wasn’t his body. It was that face. That I don’t give two fucks confidence that reached out through the picture, grabbing me. I held the box in my hands, there were at least a dozen copies. Biting my lip, I took one before placing the box back inside.
I tucked the calendar under my arm, going back to the other room. “I found a lighter and a flashlight. There’s scented candles in the master bathroom.”
“I’ll make a fire,” hot stripper offered.
“I think you already
did.” I grinned, hiding how hurt I was by Hannah. This was Kell’s weekend. I’d swallow my pride for her. I rushed upstairs, hiding the calendar in my bag. I’d spend time with him later. After retrieving the candles, I went back downstairs. Kells was trying to clean the couch with a stain stick she found by the laundry. A fire was catching in the hearth.
“I’m Colby,” hot stripper man smirked as he handed me the lighter for the candles.
“Well, Colby. Keep dancing. Your rate isn’t cheap.” He grinned as I took over cleaning the couch for Kells. “Go. It’s your weekend.”
“Sorry about Hannah. She’s always been threatened by our friendship.”
“She’s right. I’m studious and bore myself.” I poured myself a fresh drink, downing it then waved dollar bills at Colby. He sashed over. His index finger ran down the side of my face between my breastbone, stopping at my navel. I shivered. Wade never had any moves like that. It was seductive. Sexy. I thought of my calendar man’s brooding eyes and kept drinking. I had become all work and no play. I found a dick gummy inside the fold in the couch. Popped in it my mouth. I sang alone to the Ed Sheeran song as Colby slow grinded with Kells. My cell dinged from my back pocket. It was an alert from Airbnb.
To: [email protected]
From: homeowner1278
SUBJECT: Power Out?
Ryan,
I hope you are enjoying a relaxing stay. I just received an alert from the power company that there’s an outage. Expected reinstatement is five to six hours. If you wish to depart early, I will refund you a day. Please let me know if there is any storm damage to my property. I’m sorry I didn’t think to prepare for something like this.
C.C.
From: [email protected]
To: homeowner1278
SUBJECT: Power Outage?
Hi,
We are having an amazing time. Everything is fine…. You left more than I expected to find.
Ryan