by Loni Ree
“Sure,” I agree. God, I want the floor to open up and swallow me. I smile weakly and walk over to pour myself a drink. While facing away from him, I use the time to pull myself together. After wasting as much time as possible, I take a deep breath before sitting on the sofa.
Marcus walks over to stand at the sliding doors and stares out into the night. His powerful shoulders sag as he quietly admits, “My dad slept his way through every secretary and female employee at his company.” That’s the last thing I expected him to say. “I swore I’d never turn into a sleazy son-of-a-bitch like him.” I watch him rub the back of his neck, and my heart drops. There’s no chance for us. “I’m sorry.”
Standing, I place my glass on the table and sigh. “I’ve had a little too much to drink. I think I’ll turn in.” He looks back at me and I shrug. “It’s probably best if we forget everything that happened.”
Marcus opens his mouth, and a tiny spark of hope zings through me before he squashes it by nodding in agreement. “Our meetings don’t start until one o’clock tomorrow,” he reminds me as he walks toward his room. “Sleep in. I’ll see you for lunch around eleven-thirty.”
After crying myself to sleep, I toss and turn throughout the endless night. I wake up early and stand under the hot shower spray while giving myself a long pep talk. It’s obvious that a relationship between me and Marcus will never work out. I let my hormones and girlish fantasies cloud my adult judgment, and I’m now paying the price. When we return to the office, I’ll have to survive one more week under Marcus, and then Thomas will be home from London and things will return to normal.
I dress then search the internet on my phone to find a store close by that’s not too pricey. I’m in luck and find a cute little boutique within walking distance from the hotel. I spend an hour in there and replace my attention-seeking clothes with more sedate choices. Subconsciously, I might have been trying to catch Marcus’ attention, but now I know there’s no hope of any future between us.
We avoid mentioning our make-out session or anything personal for the rest of the trip. When Marcus closes the deal with Neal Hanson a couple of days early, we pack up and head home immediately following the last meeting.
The flight back to Atlanta mirrors the one to LA. Marcus holds my hand to reassure me during takeoff, then we spend the rest of the time fighting off the heavy uncomfortable feeling that hangs in the air between us.
Marcus drops me off at my apartment and ignores me when I tell him I don’t need help taking my bag up. As I slip my key in the lock, he places his hand over mine and sighs. “Since tomorrow is Friday, why don’t you take the day off and have a long weekend.”
“Thank you,” I call to his back after he turns and heads towards the elevator. The four days off will give me time to recover from the disappointment and the damage to my heart. It’s a shame I didn’t realize I was starting to fall for the big jerk until it was too late. Now, I have my dented pride and crushed heart to heal.
I spend all day Friday unpacking and cleaning my apartment. The work helps keep my mind occupied, and I forget about Marcus for a few hours. That night, I fight memories of him as I lie in bed, but I promise myself to have them under control by the time I return to work on Monday. Saturday, I take Granny Sue to the movies. She’s been dying to see the new romantic comedy, and I hope a good laugh will help improve my mood.
After the show, we have dinner, and then I return home feeling much lighter. I promise myself this is going to continue. I’m over the hardest part now.
My resolve lasts until Monday morning. I’m sitting at my desk sifting through all my emails when the elevator dings. I force myself to ignore the sound of his heavy footfalls approaching my desk. “Good morning, Ms. Overton.” I guess we’re back to formal names. As his deep voice sends little sparks of electricity through my veins, I realize it’s going to take longer than three days to rid myself of these feelings.
I glance up from the computer screen and paste a fake smile across my face. “Good Morning, Mr. Thornton.” I swear I see desire flash through his dark brown eyes a second before he blinks it away. “I’m almost done with the emails. Is there anything you needed?” I ask him.
“I have a conference call with my brother in fifteen minutes.” He steps back, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “Please be ready to take notes.”
That’s how the rest of the week goes. We barely speak to each other. I’m unable to stop myself from watching him when no one is looking, and my heart still clenches whenever he’s close by. My dumb heart and body refuse to give up on him. When the weekend approaches, I breathe a sigh of relief. Monday, Thomas will return. I have a meeting to update Ella on necessary issues, then I'll be able to reclaim my real desk. Our office is a floor down and way across the building. By next week at this time, I’ll be back to normal—only running into Marcus Thornton periodically. Space and distance will allow my heart to heal properly.
Marcus pulls his Thursday craziness again, but this time I call his bluff. When he glares at me and storms away, a small measure of satisfaction roars through me. Four more days and I’m free of him. If only the thought didn’t make my heart hurt.
Marcus
Her silky walls squeeze my cock in a death grip, and I fight to hold back my orgasm. I’m not ready to give up this feeling. I watch her luscious tits bounce every time I thrust up into her tight pussy, and they call out for my touch. Reaching up, I pinch her dark pink nipples between my finger and thumb and twist a little, causing her inner muscles to tighten around my erection. When she throws her head back and screams my name, my eyes fly open, and I stare at the early morning sunlight dancing across my fucking ceiling. Son-of-a-bitch. Another night filled with vivid sexual fantasies that requires a cold motherfucking shower for me to take care of my hard, aching cock.
The dirty fantasies aren’t the most terrifying part of my dreams. Nightmares of a faceless asshole making a move on Olivia are haunting my nights. Watching him woo her in my dreams is killing me.
I stand under the hot spray and lean my head back against the marble wall. Fuck. It’s Thursday. I wonder if she’s going on her “special” date tonight. The thought of Olivia seeing another man deflates my dick faster than jacking off, and I rush through the shower and hurry to dress. I have no idea how I’m going to handle today, but I know I need to answer my question.
It kills me, but I wait until the absolute last minute before walking up to her desk. “Ms. Overton, I’m going to need you to stay late tonight.”
I use the same excuse as last time to disrupt her plans.
“That’s not possible.” Her eyes narrow as she glares at me. “I have plans tonight, and it’s way too late to cancel.”
“I’m sure whoever you have a date with will understand your job requires you to work late occasionally.” I return her glare.
She bites her bottom lip for a moment, and satisfaction courses through me until she shrugs. “I’m sorry, but it isn’t possible tonight. I was out of town for business all last week and missed my night out.” She raises an eyebrow. “I can’t cancel my plans this late.”
We stare into one another’s eyes, each waiting for the other to back down. When it becomes clear she isn’t going to give in, I storm back to my office. I turn at my door and growl, “I’ll let my brother know you refused to help out.” It’s an empty threat, but I have nothing to lose at this point. I already look like a moron.
By the end of the weekend, I tell myself I’m looking forward to having Ella back in the office and life returning to normal. At least, that’s the lie I’m going to stick with for now. My heart calls me a fool, but I ignore the fucker.
I wake up and attempt to shake off a particularly steamy dream. I’m not sure which are worse; the hot, dirty ones, or the dreams filled with another man. When I step out of the shower, I find a text from Thomas asking me to meet him for breakfast at the café on the corner. I message him back and head to dress.
I wade my way through the crowded
sidewalk and give the hostess a fake smile. She recognizes me and points to my brother, who’s sitting at a booth in the back of the restaurant. When I walk up to the table, he looks up from his phone and frowns. “Holy hell. What happened to you?”
“Crappy weekend.” I slide in across from him and order coffee and oatmeal. Our business discussion grants me an hour-long reprieve from my constant thoughts of Olivia.
I step off the elevator at the office and come to a dead stop. Seeing Ella sitting at her desk drives home the reality that my time having Olivia nearby ended. Telling myself this is for the best, I lock my jaw and stroll to my assistant’s desk. “It’s good to have you back,” I lie before giving her a fake smile and continuing down the hall. When I reach my office, I turn to her. “Please, hold my calls. I have a few issues to resolve.” I slam the door shut with my foot and drop my shit on the chair. After walking over to the large floor-to-ceiling window, I stare out at the sunny morning sky and sigh. Why do I fucking miss Olivia this much?
I manage to make it through the next few days without seeing Olivia. On Thursday morning, my eyes pop open after a restless night, and I realize there’s no way I’m going to work today. Since we started this company fifteen years ago, I’ve never taken a sick day, but that’s changing today. I text Ella and make up some bullshit, then drag my sorry ass into the living room to veg out in front of the television. After ten hours of mindless shows, I’m sitting on my sofa drinking straight from a whiskey bottle when my doorbell rings. Fuck. It’s either my mother or brother since my doorman only lets family up.
I ignore the buzzing for a few minutes and breathe a sigh of relief when it stops. I groan as Thomas comes strolling in the room and drops down next to me. “You look like hammered shit,” he tells me unnecessarily, and I flip him off.
“Fuck you.” I don’t have the desire to attempt originality.
My brother shakes his head and takes the bottle from me. After walking over to the sidebar and grabbing a glass, he pours himself a drink and hands me the whiskey back. “Is there a reason you’re poisoning your liver and boycotting showering?”
I take a sip of the whiskey and debate whether or not to come clean to my younger brother that I’m falling in love with his assistant. There. I’ve acknowledged it. He glances over at me and growls, “What?”
“It’s Thursday night,” I bark out, expecting him to understand.
The large amount of whiskey running through my system dulls my senses, and I lay my head back and stare at the ceiling as he stands and paces in front of the sofa. “You’re going to have to give me more than that.” He turns to me and raises an eyebrow. “Thursday doesn’t usually cause you to drink.”
“She’s out with another man,” I clarify, and he frowns.
“Who?” My brother stops pacing and stares at me.
Fuck. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Olivia. It’s her weekly date night.” I throw up my hands in frustration that he made me spell it out.
“Olivia.” He mouths before walking over to stare at me for a moment. Shaking his head, he sighs. “With Granny Sue.”
As his words sink in, I sit up and sputter, “Granny. Her grandmother?”
He rolls his eyes, and I realize I never did come right out and ask her if her Thursday night date was with a man. I’m a moron. Relief flows through me for a second until reality hits me in the face. This still doesn't change the main obstacles standing in our way.
“It doesn't matter,” I growl. “She works for us.”
“So?” He shrugs.
“So. We aren’t allowed to date colleagues. Remember?” I stare at my brother. “Me, you, and Josh agreed to it when we started Thornton & Brunts,” I remind him. “And I refuse to turn into Dad. I won’t fuck every woman in the damn office.”’ The whiskey is making it hard to reason.
“First of all,” he begins, sitting in the chair across from me. “Our policy is easy to change. We just need to have a meeting with Josh.” He mentions the thought that has been going through my mind on a continuous loop lately. “Second, you aren’t married with two small children.” He points out, “Dad fucked every secretary at his office while he was married to Mom.” His conclusion plants a small kernel of doubt in my mind. Have I been fighting my feelings for Olivia for no reason?
“You’re a moron.” My brother reiterates what I’ve been thinking all along.
A moron in love who needs to get his head out of his ass before he loses the chance to spend his life with his soulmate. After I admit the truth to myself, things move quickly. It’s amazing how easy it was in the end.
Olivia
It’s a dreary Monday morning, and The Steamin’ Mug is packed. I glance down at my watch and groan. If I stay for my caffeine fix, I’ll probably be late. After deciding I need the coffee, I wait impatiently and hope the line moves swiftly. I rush into the office four minutes late, juggling my large cup and bag of sweets. “Good morning.” His voice sends longing and a tiny shard of pain through me.
Turning, I stare at Marcus before swallowing. I paste a fake smile on my face and ask, “Is there something you needed?” What is he doing on our floor? I never see him down here. He’s wearing his dark gray suit and white dress shirt with an emerald green tie. As his yummy masculine scent wraps around me, I dig my nails into my palms. I barely resist the urge to reach out and touch him. All the feelings I’ve spent the last several days fighting come rushing back to the surface.
As he walks over and casually leans a hip on my desk, I wonder if I woke up in an alternate universe this morning. There’s a warm, intimate smile on his face, throwing me off. “I need to talk to my brother. Is he available?”
Who the hell is this? Has an alien taken over his body? My mind whirls, trying to determine what is happening here. I grab the phone and call Thomas. After he agrees to see his brother, I glance at Marcus and fake a smile. “He’s available.”
As he strolls away, I set my things on the desk before dropping into my chair. My mind whirls as I wonder what is going on with him.
A while later, I’m attempting to read emails when he exits Thomas’ office and walks back toward the elevator. “Goodbye.” He smiles as he passes my desk. I mumble a reply and sit quietly as shock runs through me. Who was that? It’s like Marcus is a totally different man today.
Throughout the rest of the day, my mind keeps focusing on the look in his eyes as he stared down at me this morning. A few minutes in his presence blew away all the progress I’ve made since our return from Los Angeles.
It’s time to leave, and I’m packing up my things for the day when my phone buzzes. When I glance at the screen, my heart pounds in my chest. It’s Marcus’ office line. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and answer the call. “Hello?”
“Could you stop by my office on your way out?” His voice sends little shock waves through my nerves.
“Okay,” I answer and hang up.
The entire way up to his floor, my mind whirls with questions. The deserted lobby is dark, and I walk by Ella’s empty desk with my heart in my throat. I wish this meeting had taken place during the day with others present. Being alone with Marcus sends all kinds of mixed signals to my confused heart and body. I knock on his door, and he calls for me to come in, so I count to three before entering.
He’s taken off his jacket, and I focus on the way his white dress shirt stretches across his muscular chest. My body temperature rises, and I barely resist the urge to fan myself. When a trickle of sweat runs down my back, I ignore it and watch as he points at the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”
Damn. I didn’t want to get close enough to smell his masculine scent mixed with the yummy cologne he wears. After sitting down, I fold my hands in my lap and wait. He leans back in his chair and admits, “I’m the biggest moron alive.” My mouth drops open, and I blink as several questions run through my mind. I shake my head, wondering if I heard him correctly. “Not only that, but I’m an asshole, too.” His confession shocks m
e into silence. “I fucking fell for you somewhere along the way, and I don’t damn well give a shit about company rules or stupid hang-ups from my past.” Either I’m hallucinating or Marcus Thornton just admitted having feelings for me. Shock has disconnected my mouth from my brain, and all the thoughts swirling around in my mind are locked behind my lips.
I finally manage to mutter, “Uh, okay.” Well, that’s a pretty weak response.
He rises and walks around the desk to stand next to my chair. Having him this close turns my confused brain to mush. “I want to start over with you.” As he places his fingers under my chin to lift it, my eyes slowly find his, and I see both a fear of rejection and hope shining back at me.
“What changed?” My mind finally turns on.
“The simplest explanation is I realized that I was comparing apples to oranges.” He swallows. “My dad’s situation was completely different, and I was using it to protect my heart. But I discovered about five minutes after I walked away from you that you’re already deep inside my heart.”
He’s hitting me with too much, too fast. “This is coming out of nowhere,” I tell him. “In LA, you rejected me and it hurt me terribly.” I bite my lip and try to corral my thoughts. My heart is begging me to jump into his arms, but I know he’ll crush me if I give him a chance and things end badly. I have my job and my heart to protect. “I don’t want to go through that again.”
As he kneels in front of me and softly grasps my hand, my pulse skyrockets. He brings it to his lips and places a light kiss on my knuckles before looking into my eyes. “Please, give me a chance. We’ll take things slow.”
While a thousand questions run through me, emotions hit me from all sides. I can’t decide on the spot. “I need to think about all this.”
He leans back and sighs, and I expect him to argue, but he smiles at me. “Okay. But I refuse to sit around and twiddle my thumbs. I’m going to convince you to give me a chance.”