by Shayne Ford
He walks out followed closely by Madison Campbell who quickly veers after him as they both head to his office.
Swiftly, I remove myself from my chair and tiptoe to the glass partition wall. She sashays down the corridor, keeping up with him. Curly blonde hair tumbles down her back.
She fashions an abstract print dress that outlines her backside and her chest, and four-inch heels. Ahead of her, he vanishes inside, the door closing in her face.
She pushes through as well, her gesture speaking of some sort of familiarity that makes my stomach shrink.
My shoulders slump with disappointment as I slither back to my seat.
I barely take a seat when my phone buzzes with a message.
Chris: How was it?
Me: Good.
Chris: The big wigs are gone.
Me: Most of them. My boss is still here, and the lawyers.
Chris: Lunch?
Me: Okay.
Chris: I’ll be in the break room for the next thirty minutes if you want to join me.
Me: Cool.
I place the phone next to my computer, the time catching my eye. It’s almost two o’clock. I should grab a bite.
Laughter travels through the wall. It’s that woman’s voice. Forced. Sassy. Filled with sexual innuendo.
Cursing quietly, I try to ignore her.
She snickers again, and my bowels twist.
For some reason, I have a hard time to believe he’s making her laugh so hard. But, hey? What do I know?
Restless, I check my email and my phone again, unable to focus on my work or to tear away from my desk and join Christine in the break room.
It goes on like that, giggle after giggle for at least ten more minutes, and then everything goes quiet. My blood draws from my body as ludic scenarios pop in my head, all starring that woman and her knees on the floor in front of him.
It doesn’t take a genius to know what she’s after. I may be a rookie, but she’s not too subtle. Her dress is one palm shorter than it should be, and her heels one inch higher. Besides, her unruly hair and shimmering pink lips are louder than an advertising billboard.
Anyone with the imagination of a brick can easily picture her kneeling in front of him.
I spring out of my chair again and edge to the corner of my office.
For the next five minutes or so, I count every damn second, my eyes glued to the hallway as I’m hoping to see her stroll out of his office or someone walk in on them and break their tete-a-tete.
I would do it gladly, but I have no good reason to go there.
Just when I start biting my nails, the door of my office slides open, and Ed Preston walks in.
He shoots me a quick glance as I tear away from the glass wall and pretend I was checking on plants. He smiles as if he reads my mind.
“Where is he?” he asks.
“His office.”
“Alone?”
“No.”
His eyebrows tilt up as he gives me a questioning look.
“Madison Campbell,” I say.
“Can you get her out of there?”
“What? Why...?” I mumble.
What is he talking about?
“How?”
I finally ask the pertinent question.
“Go in there and tell him I’m waiting for him,” he says.
“Why can’t you text him?” I ask, motioning at the phone clutched in his fist.
“He doesn’t answer his phone.”
“You can walk in there.”
“I could, but she won’t go away, and I need to get him out of here within the next thirty minutes. It’s a different story with you.”
“How so?” I mutter, slow on catching on his logic.
He beckons me to him. Eyes latched on his gaze, I walk to him. A smile spills on his lips, beaming all the way to his chocolate eyes. The few bangs swooping down his brow give him a boyish look.
He narrows his eyes and purses his lips, giving me a swift once-over as I still try to make sense of his words, him, and generally speaking, his behavior.
Without the slightest warning, he brings his hands to the back of my neck. A shiver shakes my shoulders as his fingertips graze my skin. He frees my hair before he runs his fingers through it and fluffs it up.
My eyes stay on his face as he weighs me and studies me while styling my hair.
Finally, he smiles contently.
“Good. Now go there. Knock on the door, walk to him, and whisper in his ear that I’m waiting in your office. Today is Friday. He’ll know what I’m talking about.”
My mouth drops open. If this doesn’t get me fired, I don’t know what does.
“Got it?” he asks, smiling warmly as his hand curls around my shoulder.
I nod a couple of times.
“Yes. Are you sure this will work? Without getting me in trouble?”
“Yes. Trust me. He likes you more than he likes her,” he tosses at me, and I wish I could spend a moment or two musing over what he just said. “Go.”
He nudges me to the door, and I spin away, my pulse racing.
Never trust a man. My mom’s words of wisdom flash in my head just as I get ready to knock on Lex Harrington’s door. A bit too late, if I’m being honest.
This could get me in a lot of trouble, yet I don’t have much choice now, do I?
I knock twice.
Immediately, I hear his voice. I crack the door open and push through, the woman coming into view first. She has her ass plopped on his desk, her legs crossed and dangling.
Arms folded across his chest, he leans back in his chair, a smile clinging to his lips.
He looks amused. She looks as if she works too hard.
“Yes,” he says with a cold voice.
His eyes fall on me. Followed by hers.
Her smile freezes on her lips as his eyes beam with surprise when he gets a glimpse of my new hairdo. A soft grin curls his lips.
Holding his gaze, I stroll in his direction.
He straightens in his chair, his eyes lit with a smile as I erase the space between us. My knees start shaking as I bend at my waist and hover over him, my hand curling around his neck.
Sparks of electricity burn my fingers. He turns to stone as I bring my mouth close to his ear, graze his earlobe with my lips and softly murmur.
“Edward Preston is waiting for you in my office. He wanted me to remind you that today is Friday. He also said you know what I’m talking about. Also, what I’m doing right now... was his idea.”
Reluctantly, I tear away from him, taking with me a whiff of his cologne. My fingers slowly brush his skin one more time before I spin around and walk away.
The last snapshot of his face sears my mind.
His blue eyes were smiling, intrigued.
LEX
Her fingers graze my skin again as her lips touch my earlobe, and her hair slides over my face intoxicating me with her sultry scent.
My blood shoots through my veins, and my cock grows hard in my pants, and the timing couldn’t be worse.
Good thing I’m tucked behind my desk.
My gaze travels with her all the way to the door, shamelessly undressing her and licking her perky rear, smoothly outlined beneath her tailored dress.
“Ahem...” I hear at my side, and I glance in Campbell’s direction.
All her lip licking, lash batting and back arching couldn’t make an atom pulse in my body, and here comes this girl, walks into my office, barely touches me and I could drill holes in the wall with my erection.
Fucking Preston. I’m gonna fucking kill him.
“You were saying...” I murmur absently, training my gaze on my phone as I’m texting Preston.
“Okay then... I guess I’ll catch up with you some other time when you’re not so busy,” says Madison as I’m already pushing up to my feet.
“Sorry about that,” I say without looking at her, or sounding genuinely sorry, knowing full well that nothing pisses off a woman like her more than not
paying attention to her.
My thumbs move quickly, texting away.
Me: You better have something good lined up, or I’ll rip your balls off.
Ed: I gather it worked.
Me: It fucking did.
The sound of a door opening and closing echoes in the background as Madison strolls away.
I shove my phone into my pocket, pick up my jacket and my car keys, and adjust my erection.
That’s fucking awesome. I wait a few more moments before I walk out of my office.
A few strides put me right at my secretary’s door. I push through.
She sits behind her desk, her hair brushed back, tied in a ponytail. A guilty look slides onto her face as if she expects me to be furious.
I am, but not with her. It’s the jerk who’s sprawled in a chair not far from me, flashing an amused grin in my direction.
Playing Cupid.
What’s worse, playing with her. His grin subsides to a flickering light in his eyes that swiftly fades away as he gets a glimpse of my glare.
“You can go home early, Miss Fox,” I say flat without looking at her.
Flicking my head to the door, I motion to him.
We ride the elevator all the way down in silence, and once we’re in the underground parking, I slap the back of his head.
He starts laughing.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” I burst out.
“What the hell did I do?”
“You can play with me all you want but don’t mess with her. She’s not Madison Campbell or that married tart you fucked last week.”
I toss my jacket on the back seat and start the engine. The metallic core grumbles all around us, groaning beneath our feet.
“I gotta get one myself,” Ed says, pointing at my Ferrari.
“You better not. Your dick gets you in enough trouble without a car like this. So what was that all about?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder as I back away. “I thought you left.”
“I fucking did because you said so, but you were wrong,” he says, and I barely push back a retort. “You’re overthinking everything, man.”
“Overthinking? For fuck’s sake, Ed. Her husband knows you railed his sweetie. I bet my money that woman spilled the story to him faster than she parted her lips to swallow your dick.”
“I’m probably not the only one who fucked her.”
“And that makes it okay? I’m sure you weren’t, but you’re the kind of man that bruises his ego. The woman is out there, looking for revenge. Isn’t that obvious? She wants to humiliate her husband. Fine, she can do it all she wants, but I don’t want that kind of mess spilling in my board room. You know better than mixing dick with business.”
“You got your deal, anyway.”
“Yeah... I got it. That’s why I wanted you out of there. It was the least I could do for him.”
He holds his hands up in the air.
“Okay. Fine. You’ve made your point. Stop busting my balls,” he says, exasperated. “You need to get laid, man.”
“I get laid. Don’t worry about me.”
“Well, clearly it doesn’t do much for you. Maybe you need to try something else. Or someone else.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Ed,” I say sounding so damn serious, his eyes flick in my direction.
“I’m not. Really. Take it easy. You work too hard, and you don’t play enough, man. You need to relax for a change. Sexton wasn’t half as stressed as you are now that you’re running this thing.”
“It’s not about that.”
“I know it’s not about that, but you’re too tense, man. Things don’t have to be fucking perfect all the time,” he says before he goes quiet.
I take a long breath.
“I guess, you’re right,” I say with a different voice.
“Finally...”
“So, what do you have in plan for today?”
“I thought you wanted to celebrate. We have a few options. There’s a big party down in LA tonight. We can fly to New York, or we can get the local treat and kick back.”
I feel his stare on my face, and I glance in his direction.
“Local treat it is...” he says and looks out the window, grinning.
8
DAHLIA
Oh, this feels good.
I stretch my legs and relax my body, a soft robe hugging me.
Today was a good day.
What am I saying? It was a good week.
For one, I made it through unscathed. Not bad. And I still have a job. A good job, and a great boss. My dad would be proud of me. I know, my mom is. I switch the channel, turn the volume low, and lean back against the couch.
My phone starts humming.
Chris sent me a picture of her in a club.
I wish you were here, the caption says.
Have fun, I type back. I’ll see you tomorrow.
I toss the phone next to me on the couch and almost fall asleep when a noise coming from the front door startles me.
Shit. I forgot about Elsa.
She slams the door closed, her footsteps traveling to the kitchen, their cadence speaking of anger. I jump off the couch and shuffle in that direction. Her phone rings just before I make out of the living room.
She barks in her phone. I step back and hide, my ears perking up.
“No. I fucking told you... It’s not your fucking business,” she growls.
Another voice thunders at the other end.
“Yes, it fucking is. You’re not going there again,” the man blurts out in the speaker.
Apparently, she forgot about me as well.
“It’s not for you to say what I do or I don’t do. It never was,” she says.
“Where are you?”
The male voice resonates throughout the small room.
“You can’t find me, Jordan. Stop asking stupid questions. I told you I’m fucking done with you.”
“Is that because of him?” His voice sounds menacing. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”
“Jordan!!”
The phone goes dead, Elsa’s voice bouncing around the walls a few more moments, carrying a curse and a growl of frustration. Without making any noise, I slip into the hallway and silently, sneak into the bathroom.
I turn the faucet on, and minutes later crack the door open.
“Elsa?” I call her with a smooth voice as if I haven’t witnessed any drama.
I walk back into the kitchen, casually wrapping my robe around my body as if I just walked out of the shower.
“I thought I heard you,” I say. “Were you on the phone with someone?” I toss at her as I swing the fridge door open and grab a bottle of water.
She sits at the table, her face buried in her hands. I place my hand on her shoulder and gently rub it. I feel the tension in her body and sense her sadness.
“You want some tea?” I ask her.
She shakes her head.
“Are you okay?” I say quietly, knowing that she’s not. “What happened?”
I cuff her wrist and shake it slowly. She finally removes her hands from her face, her eyes swimming with tears.
“What is it, Elsa?”
A bad feeling creeps up on me.
“I lost my job...” she says, her voice broken.
“Is that why you’re crying?” I ask.
She nods.
“Don’t worry. You’ll find another one.”
She starts to sob softly, her face concealed behind the curtain of hair.
“You don’t understand. I’m not gonna be able to support myself.”
“What happened with your current job?” I ask, pushing a box of tissues her way. She blows her nose and starts sobbing again. We go through this cycle one more time before she’s able to speak.
“I got fired because of this, um... man I hooked up with...”
“Man? Like a boyfriend?”
She nods.
“The one you broke up with?”
“Yes,” she says.
It
strikes me how sweet she sounds and how vulnerable she looks. What kind of man can hurt her?
“And?”
“He’s furious because I no longer want to hook up with him, so he came at my workplace.”
“Where you dance?”
“Yes. He threw a fit, and the bouncers kick him out, and then I got fired.”
“Just like that?” I ask incredulously.
She nods again.
“The owner doesn’t like any drama. It hurts his business, he says.”
“What kind of place is this?”
“A club.”
“Club?” I mutter, haunted by a suspicion. “Like a gentlemen’s club?”
She nods.
“Yes.”
“Oh... And what kind of dancing is it?”
She raises her teary eyes to me.
“Lap dance,” she murmurs.
A few moments of silence slip between us.
“It’s only dancing?” I ask with a faint voice.
“Uh-huh,” she says, her voice not very convincing.
“Are you sure?”
“That’s what they pay for.”
And that’s a spin if I’ve ever seen one.
“Why did you break up with your boyfriend?”
“He’s very possessive, and he started to act out.”
“Can you blame him?”
“No. But he knew what he was getting into. I never pretended I’m something other than I am.”
“What exactly is that?”
“I’m an exotic dancer.”
“Oh, I see. How did you meet him?”
“His friends organized a birthday party for him a few months back at this club. He saw me dancing, and he liked me a lot. Then he tracked me down outside the club. That’s how we hook up.”
“Can he track you down here?”
“No. He doesn’t know where I live. That’s what makes him so furious. I never told him I have a sister.”
I sigh. Not with relief.
Angry boyfriends are very resourceful when it comes to finding the women who pissed them off.
“It may be safer if you go to mom’s place.”
She shakes her head firmly.
“No. I’d rather end up in a shelter than go back to that house.”
I grab her hand.
“Elsa?”
She pulls her hand away and tips her chin down, hiding her face, the way she used to do when she was a kid.