Never Got Over You

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Never Got Over You Page 10

by Whitney G.


  I’ve heard that someone is HR is willing to cut you a seven-figure check if you leave today and don’t look back.

  Money still runs everything in your world, I’m sure...

  Anonymous

  CEO of Pier Autumn Coffee

  “HMMM.” I TOOK OFF MY glasses. “You’re right, Miss Kennedy. It looks like someone has hacked into my email account. I’ll be sure to get the tech department to track down this cyber-criminal immediately.”

  “I’m not quitting.” She hissed. “So, please cut the petty shit and be the goddamn professional that you promised to be.”

  “I took a page out of your book and decided that ‘promises’ don’t mean anything.”

  She looked like she was about to explode. “James—”

  “It’s Sean.”

  “Sean...” She took a deep breath, and then she smiled. “I look forward to seeing you at my strategy presentation this evening.”

  I said nothing. I just watched her walk away, feeling my cock get harder with her every step. I started to stand up and follow her, but the door opened again and Mr. Levin walked into the room.

  “We have a problem, sir,” he said. “Miss Kennedy’s short-term lease will end this weekend.”

  “How is that a problem for us?”

  “She needs someplace close to stay until she finds her own spot.”

  “With her new, astronomical salary, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

  “All of the usual temporary housing places that we use are full, so I was thinking we could place her at one of the condos in your complex. I mean, you do own ten of them.”

  “Hell no.”

  “You’ve rented out those suites before.” He shrugged. “If you don’t allow her to stay there, what do you suggest?”

  “Fire one of the new people we just hired and let Miss Kennedy live in their place.”

  He gave me a blank stare.

  “Glad we could have this conversation, Mr. Levin,” I said. “Have a great day.”

  “Do you know she booked a one-way bus ticket from Philadelphia?” he asked. “That’s a three and a half day trip.”

  I tapped my fingers on the desk.

  “She’s been staying at a damn motel since she started here, sir. I think the least we can do is give her a hand.”

  “I’d rather give her an Academy Award for her acting skills.” I shook my head. “This ‘poor girl’ role is getting quite believable.”

  “Is that a yes or a no, to the housing and benefits, sir?”

  “It’s a reluctant yes.” I pointed to my door. “You can leave now.”

  “Blue barked at him, following his every step until he was out of my sight.

  Confused as to why the hell Kate would ever stay in a motel, I picked up my phone and called Shannon.

  “Yes, Mr. Holmes?”

  “Have someone bring me Miss Kensington’s files, please.”

  “Um, who sir?”

  “Miss Kensington.” I paused. “Miss Kennedy.”

  “Oh, right away sir.”

  An intern entered my office minutes later and set the files in front of me. She blushed as her eyes met mine and then she rushed away.

  Flipping to Kate’s resume, I stopped when I saw the timeline. When I saw the numerous cities she’d lived in over the years.

  Confused, I put on my glasses again to make sure I was reading this right.

  Phoenix. Los Angeles. New York. Boston...

  Where is her graduate school degree? Why isn’t her final “return to cello” tour on here?

  I flipped through the background research Human Resources had done and found nothing that remotely resembled the path she’d once discussed with me. Nothing like the Kate I once knew.

  Maybe she was lying to me about these things, too...

  Before I could make a few calls, my phone buzzed with a reminder.

  Mid-day Meeting with Marketing Department. Meet Kate Downtown at the Roastery.

  ~.

  THE PIER AUTUMN ROASTERY was a replica of Starbucks’ world-renowned roastery, but we had it first. They just copied us and did better marketing. Nonetheless, all comparisons ended once anyone stepped inside.

  At forty thousand square feet, it overlooked the Central Waterfront and was designed by some of the best architects in the business. With six levels that featured a tea bar, relaxation spa, and coffee cafes with different blends, it was one of our highest performing stores and a must-see stop for tourists.

  Out of all the years that I’d been the CEO, I’d never had a marketing director who wanted to host a meeting in one of the stores. I wasn’t sure why that was, and I was secretly impressed with Kate’s unique approach, but I would never tell her that.

  I took the elevator to the fourth floor and spotted a few other board members standing behind the counter with Kate.

  She tossed her head back as she laughed, making me stop in my tracks at the sound. I couldn’t help but think of one of the first times I’d heard it.

  “I could listen to you laugh all day, Kate.”

  “You mean that or are you just flattering me?”

  “I never say things I don’t mean...”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes,” Kate said as I approached. “We’re just getting started. Everyone, feel free to grab an apron.”

  She opened a box and dumped a set of gold and black aprons onto the counter. “As you all know, the best way to market your product is to make sure you know it inside and out.”

  I didn’t put on an apron. I just watched.

  “Today, I want us to experience the store from the barista side.” She picked up an apron and tossed it to me. “You don’t think you’re above doing this, do you, Mr. Holmes?”

  “Don’t worry about him.” Raven, the board member I liked the most, said. “He’s not much of a team player.”

  “The apron doesn’t match my suit.”

  Kate bit her bottom lip and instructed us to stand behind the counter, as if we were about to serve coffee.

  “I’d like to do a mockup interaction since we’re weeks away from rolling out the new luxury menu for higher paying clientele. I’m certain your team is going to encounter a few questions. We need to make sure our five-star marketing matches the service.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, interrupting. “Are you the Chief of Marketing, or the Chief of Customer Service? I’m getting confused...”

  “We’ll let you go first, Mr. Holmes.” She ignored my comment and walked to the other side of the counter. “Treat me like you would treat any other customer.”

  I stared at her.

  “Do you not know the welcome spiel for your own company?”

  “I wrote the welcome spiel.” I rolled my eyes, “Welcome to Pier Autumn Coffee—the best place in the country to get coffee. How may I serve you today?”

  “I’m not sure.” She smiled. “I saw that you just added some new luxury drinks to the menu. Can you recommend one to me?”

  “I can recommend you google it for yourself and let me help the next customer who already has their mind made up.”

  She blinked. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is a perfect example of what not to do.” She opened a box and pulled out a stack of sleek grey and gold cards. “I took the liberty of designing these invitations that we’ll personally mail to your top tier customers, and we’ll email a version of this to your casual customers. I suggest a training day to make every employee memorize every one of those. Now, let’s try something else—” She looked into my eyes. “I don’t really like the way you made my drink. Can you remake it for me?”

  “Yes,” I said. “As soon as you re-pay for it.”

  “I need you to take this seriously, James.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, I need you to take this seriously, Mr. Holmes.”

  “I’ll take it as seriously as you took ‘us.’”

  “What?”

  “I’ve never been known to stutter.”

  Her face reddened and she let out a
breath. “Can you all excuse me and our beloved CEO for a few minutes, please?”

  She waited until they moved to the far side of the counter, then she glared at me.

  “Look,” she said, pointing her finger. “For the record, I just want to do my job and I’m trying my best to be professional and act like you never existed.”

  “You’ve been doing one hell of a job all these years so far.” I glared right back at her. “Shouldn’t be too difficult for you to keep your track record going.”

  “Only one of us has a reason to be upset about what happened back then,” she said. “And that person is me. You seem to have moved on and engaged in tons of high profile affairs.”

  “None of them resulted in a marriage.”

  Silence.

  I looked down at her bare ring finger again. “I could’ve told you that you and him weren’t going to work out. Did you leave him, or did he leave you? Oh, wait. Let me guess. You made him a promise you couldn’t keep, too.”

  “Fuck you.” She hissed, her chest heaved up and down. “You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, James Garrett.”

  “Did you just curse at your boss?”

  “No,” she said. “I just kindly asked him to leave this meeting and go fuck himself.”

  “Kate—”

  “I’m Kate now?”

  “You always will be,” I said. “And because of that, there will be no more attempts at being one hundred percent professional with you.”

  “There was never even one attempt.”

  like you never were

  A few days later...

  SEAN HOLMES WAS NOTHING like the man I fell in love with years ago. The old version of him—my “James,” was cocky and dominant for sure, but there was an underlying sweetness and care that made me fall for him. A kind and caring layer that lingered beneath every dirty kiss and breathless orgasm.

  But this new version of him? This arrogant, petty as fuck, and devastatingly sexy man was all new. Nonetheless, this was the version that starred in all my recent fantasies, the muse I needed when I rubbed my fingers against my clit at night.

  He was far more tolerable in my dreams, so for the next few days, I did my best to limit seeing him so much at work. I didn’t show up to the general staff meetings that he hosted at noon, left all of his emails untouched and unanswered, and if I saw him coming in my direction, I immediately turned around and walked the other way.

  Twice, we’d been on the elevator at the same time, and I’d immediately pressed the next floor button and stepped off—catching his heated gaze in the mirror before stepping into safety.

  Despite all my best efforts, I still failed. Miserably.

  James made it a point to randomly walk around the marketing department in the middle of the day, “just to make sure Miss Kennedy is earning her astronomical paycheck.” He showed up to strategy meetings that he wasn’t invited to—taking a seat in the middle of the room like he owned the place, saying, “I wasn’t sure if you were okay, since you missed my mandatory afternoon meeting—again...Mind if I stay for yours?” (I did mind, and he still stayed.) But by far, the worst thing he did was simply exist.

  All it took was one glimpse of him in a designer suit, one glance of his cocky smirk and any resolve I thought I had completely unraveled. The tension between us thickened by the hour, and by the end of each day, it was damn near unbearable.

  My emotions swung on a pendulum—back and forth between lust and anger, hurt and confusion, lost love and hope. I couldn’t control them whenever he was around, and I could tell that he felt the same.

  At least, I thought he did.

  A part of me wanted to ask him if we could start over as friends, but the thought of that hurt too much. And the thought of us continuing like this—whatever ‘this’ was, hurt even more.

  I wanted to talk to him like I used to, to know how he became wealthy in such a short amount of time. If he was happy. If he’d ever fallen as hard for someone else like he’d fallen for me.

  Still, if his behavior was anything to go by, us being civil wouldn’t be happening any time soon.

  “Don’t let him get to you today, Kate. Don’t let him get to you today...”

  I repeated the words to myself before stepping out of the town car in front of headquarters. I was hoping my team would blow me away with their updated reports so I could escape earlier.

  I typed my password into the new elevator keypad, but the doors didn’t open. I typed it again—slower this time, and the doors remained shut.

  What’s going on?

  I pulled out my phone and started to call the maintenance manager, but James walked into the lobby. Looking perfect as ever in another dark suit, he strolled toward me, and I felt my nipples hardening under my blouse.

  Jesus...

  “Something wrong, Miss Kennedy?” he asked.

  “It’s nothing the maintenance manager can’t fix.”

  “He doesn’t get in for another hour,” he said. “Something I can help you with?”

  I bit my tongue, preventing myself from saying something sarcastic. “My new elevator code isn’t working.”

  “Hmmm. The new code is your last name and whatever five digits you requested.

  “I tried that,” I said, pressing K-e-n-n-e-d-y and 5-5-5-5-5 onto the pad. “Doesn’t work.”

  “Oh, I see.” He smiled. “I guess someone made a mistake when putting in your code.” He cleared the pad. “Maybe they put in your married name and your wedding date since that might be an easier thing for you to remember.”

  He typed in my ex-husband’s last name, then our fateful wedding date: 2.13.10.

  The elevator doors sprung open immediately. “Anything else I can help you with?”

  “Not at all.” I stepped onto the elevator, hastily pushing the ‘door close’ button. When I made it to the marketing department’s floor, I noticed it was empty.

  I checked my watch to make sure I was seeing things correctly. It was definitely 5:30 a.m, and everyone should’ve been here by now.

  Pulling out my phone, I scrolled through my list of contacts and called my new assistant—Summer.

  “Good morning, Miss Kennedy!” She was perky as usual. “I know you’re running late, so we already started on the mockups without you. We should be done with the first set within the next hour.”

  “Why aren’t you all working on them here at the office?”

  “Because Mr. Holmes told us to take the ferry to Bainbridge yesterday. He said he was speaking for you since your email account was messed up or something.”

  “Did he now?” I swallowed my anger. “Our first official presentation to the board is this afternoon. I would never tell you all to work some place that’s an hour and a half away.”

  “He said as long as we leave from here by two o’clock we’ll make it back in time.”

  “Can you please tell everyone to come back to the main campus now?”

  “Absolutely, Miss Kennedy. We’re on the way.”

  As soon as I ended the call, I let out a pent-up scream. “Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!”

  “Hmmm.” The deep sound of James’s voice made me turn around. “That’s a scream I’ve never heard before.” “He moved away from the doorframe and stepped a bit closer. “I much prefer the sound of your other ones.”

  “You’ll never hear those again. Trust me.” I glared at him. “Are you really this petty?”

  “According to the everyone who works here... Yes. Yes, I am.”

  “Are you trying to get me to leave?”

  “If I wanted you to leave, I would’ve just asked you to ‘wait’. That’s what worked before, right?”

  I sucked in a breath, ready to tell him off like he deserved, but he closed the gap between us and stamped his mouth over mine.

  I wanted to push him away, but the taste of him was too much to handle. I hadn’t felt his mouth in years, and the feel of his lips against mine was too good to resist.

  Wrapping
my arms around his neck, I hastily kissed him back, leaving my emotions against his lips. Moaning each time he slid his tongue deeper into my mouth, each time he bit down hard on my bottom lip.

  “Fuck...” He groaned as his cock hardened against my thigh, as he slid a hand under my dress.

  I unhooked my right hand from his neck and slid it between us, reaching for his belt buckle, but I lost my focus.

  “Did he ever touch you like this?” he whispered harshly, pushing my panties to the side. He didn’t wait for an answer. He slipped two fingers deep inside of me—making me cry out in instant pleasure.

  With a slow and teasing rhythm that I knew all too well, all these years later, he thrust them in and out of me. Bringing me to the edge again and again, but never letting me fall over the cliff.

  “Answer my question,” he whispered against my lips. “Did he ever touch you like this?”

  “No.” I moaned. “No man ever did...Just you.”

  He immediately stiffened.

  He tore away from me, his expression a cross between confused and upset. Letting out a breath, he pushed my hair back into place.

  He stared at me for what felt like forever, his green eyes rendering me speechless all over again like when we were younger. I saw hints of love and passion in his irises, hints of what we could’ve been.

  From the look on his face, I expected him to say that maybe we could talk after this. Maybe we could say all the things we’d wanted to say over the years. Maybe even come to an understanding.

  He didn’t.

  “This was very fucking unprofessional, Miss Kennedy,” he said, his voice cold. “I’ll change your elevator code by the next hour.”

  “James...” I felt exposed, raw. “James, can we—”

  “No, Kate.” He’d read my mind. “No, we can’t.”

 

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