by Lee, Nadia
I sigh with the tiniest bit of relief. He didn’t freak out. He’s probably done this before. I should’ve known that there’s nothing my boss can’t handle. “Thank you so much.”
Chapter Nineteen
David
I change into a T-shirt and shorts then start toward the Walmart that’s open twenty-four seven. It’ll probably have the biggest selection. Because I’m curious, I also circle the block around my home. No reporters. They probably gave up. Sleep is critically important if they want to write good clickbait.
Sneering, I shake my head. Lazy assholes.
Walmart is quiet, with hardly any shoppers. Which is good, because it’ll make the trip fast. Just grab some things, pay and go. How hard can it be?
I walk around the store until I find the stuff Erin needs, which is stocked next to the condoms and sex-lube options. Really terrible placement, if you ask me. Shouldn’t you stock things people are likely to buy together? Most people aren’t going to buy condoms and tampons at the same time, are they?
I start to reach for a box of tampons, then stop.
Hmm…
Gentle Glide.
Super Plus.
Organic.
Sport.
Fitness.
Security.
Pearl.
Radiant.
Radiant…? What the hell?
The pads are even worse. They not only have similar branding—Security, Radiant again, Ultra-Thin, Infinity Flex Foam—but some seem to have wings.
I pick up a box and stare at it. What the hell is the difference? The wings don’t even look that functional. Just little flaps of paper on the sides.
Probably a marketing gimmick. Like if you use these you’ll feel like you’re flying away…
Then I see some are scented. I pick a bundle that’s supposedly scented, glance around to make sure nobody’s watching, then sniff it, feeling like a freak. Not like any perfume I know. But then what do I know about how women want to smell between their legs during that time of the month?
I study the various options, my arms crossed. There are twenty-seven of them. Then I pull out my phone and start to text Erin until I remember that her phone’s dead.
Damn it.
Okay, time to take charge. It’s late, but I’m texting Cora. It’s for a good cause.
–Me: Hey, what are good tampons or pads for office work and sleep?
A few minutes later, I get a beep.
–Cora: Do you know what time it is in Virginia?
–Me: Just shut up and help me. This is what they got.
I take pictures of all the options and send them to her.
–Cora: Ask the woman you’re buying them for. She must feel comfortable enough with you to ask to buy her tampons.
Well, that part makes me pause because nobody ever asked me, not even Shelly. But whatever pleasure I could be savoring is soon dwarfed by an impending sense of doom. If Cora doesn’t help, I’m going to fail.
And I don’t want to fail Erin.
–Me: Can’t. Long story.
–Cora: What is this, Secret Santa? Isn’t it a little early for that?
I can feel her laughter. This isn’t funny, damn it! She needs to focus on the task at hand.
–Me: No! Come on.
–Cora: I honestly don’t know. I’m particular, so I only like Pearl Active. But most aren’t like me. Just get her a standard one. If she needs them now, she won’t complain no matter what you get. And just in case you make the same mistake all men make, avoid the scented kind. They’re nasty. Now I’m turning my phone off and going to sleep. Good luck!
Okay, that doesn’t help at all. And Cora won’t answer me anymore because she’s basically done her duty as far as she’s concerned.
I sigh and stare at the sea of choices.
“Look like you could use some help,” comes a mildly slurred male voice.
I glance over my shoulder and see a super-skinny guy with curly brown hair and gold-rimmed glasses. The eyes behind them are owlish and slightly bloodshot. “Yeah.”
“The ladies are picky. It’s very personal to them.” He reaches over and grabs a box of Sport tampons.
“Are those the best?” I ask, desperate enough to not care that some random stranger is discussing female hygiene products with me in Walmart after midnight.
“Current lady likes ’em, but the ex sure didn’t.”
Fuck.
“If you aren’t sure, just buy one of each.” He gives me a sleepy smile and leaves.
I rub my forehead. He’s right about these products being personal. They go flush against sensitive areas. Would a woman want just any old dick near her lady parts? It’s the same principle.
I start to grab one of each, minus the scented kind. At least Cora helped me narrow the field down a little. Then I realize maybe I need a cart, but I don’t feel like walking back to the front of the store to get one. So I make a huge stack, balancing the lot against my chest.
Satisfied, I make my way carefully to the register. One very large woman sees me and tracks me with her eyes as I walk past. I check myself out, then get two bags so I can carry everything.
When I arrive home and go upstairs, Erin’s door is open. She’s up, waiting for me, with her hands on her arms. She keeps pulling in her lips, then biting the lower one in her typical nervous gesture.
I place the bags on the bed.
Her eyes widen.
I pull the boxes out one by one. “Sport in case you want to exercise. Fitness in case these serve some other, uh, sporty function. Security because hey, with all those reporters around, right? Radiant in case you want to, you know…glow. Pearl for if you want…” I trail off. Pearl? Are these, like, those strings of sex beads? I clear my throat. “Anyway, Pearl for when you feel, uh, smooth and pearly. Pads without wings…and with wings if you need, I don’t know, aerial support. And nine brands of panty liners if you want a secondary defense in case the primary defense fails.”
Erin doesn’t say a word. She just stares at me, eyes wide. Probably impressed with how thorough I am. Hell, I’m impressed. “Hopefully this will have you covered,” I say, confident that it does.
“Wow. Um. Yeah. Thank you. You really didn’t have to buy so many. Let me give you money.”
I wave her ridiculous offer away. “No, no, glad to help.” Her gratitude is more than enough. “Anyway, good night, Erin.”
Shoulders straight and chest out, I return to my room, feeling like Alexander the Great after conquering both Persia and the Gordian Knot.
Chapter Twenty
Erin
I’m up early the next morning. The strange bed makes it hard for me to fall asleep and stay that way. I wash my face, put on my work clothes and go downstairs with my purse, which contains several of the tampons David bought.
I still can’t believe he got so many. Or the way he explained why he picked them. It’s obvious he’s never done it before, but it was sweet of him to go to the store for me so late at night. And I appreciate it that he acted like it was no big deal, which did a lot to lessen my embarrassment.
I really need to bake him something special. Hmm. I know brownies sounded like a great idea, but maybe not. It might not be satisfying to have something that isn’t quite as good as what he’s used to. Since he’s going to have his mom’s in three weeks, maybe I should make something else. There are a lot of options in the videos he bought me.
He hasn’t come down to the kitchen yet, so I start the coffeemaker. I look in the fridge, wondering if it’ll give me some clues as to what he eats for breakfast. But no. Just some soft drinks, beer and the leftover pizza from yesterday.
“You hungry?”
I start at the question. Straightening, I shut the door and face him. “Oh! Hi. Good morning. I was trying to see what there was for breakfast.”
He presses his lips together. He’s clean-shaven and clean-cut in a pale blue shirt and black slacks. He almost never wears a tie. I thought about getting him
one for his birthday last year, but Jan told me not to. Said he hates them because they feel suffocating. Also, not having a tie makes him look more approachable than some of the other managers.
Now the skin of his throat shows beneath the undone collar. It isn’t even an intimate part of his body, but the view feels erotic, like a nude photo.
I swallow, even though my mouth is utterly dry. Maybe I’m being weird because he’s so close. Normally when we deal with each other in the morning there’s a desk between us.
“Not much, I’m afraid. I usually grab something from the office cafeteria,” David says.
What were we talking about?
“On a day like this, I’d just reheat the pizza.”
I finally remember. “Pizza for breakfast?” I wrinkle my nose. That seems like such a…frat-boy solution, not something I’d expect from my suave billionaire boss.
“It’s awesome,” he says, reinforcing the frat-boy vibe. “Wanna try it?”
I’m skeptical, but his eyes are twinkling with good humor. “Okay, maybe one slice.”
“Coming right up.” He loads two in the microwave and turns it on.
I pour coffee into a couple of mugs, then add a packet of Splenda to his the way he likes, and cream to mine because I like the color I get at the end. “Here you go.”
After we have a couple of sips, the microwave dings. David pulls the pizza out and serves us. I take a small, experimental bite. It’s actually not bad. The cheese has hardened a bit compared to yesterday and the crust is slightly chewier, but it’s still edible.
“Nice,” I say.
“Told you.” He grins. “Mom thinks it’s gross, so we never got to do it when she was around. If it weren’t for her, Dad and my brothers and I would probably have had pizza three times a day.”
“Wouldn’t you get sick of it?”
“Are you kidding? Depending on what you put on top, it’s a whole new experience! But Mom disagrees…which is weird, because she’s a quarter Italian. You’d think she’d be into it.”
“I think I like it better than cereal or bagels.”
He grins. “Then we can eat like this all the time.”
My heart does something funny at the way he speaks, like this is going to continue forever. Then I shake my head, deciding that’s not what he meant at all. I’m just being too loose with my interpretation.
“We should get going if we don’t want to be late,” David says.
“I should probably take my car.” I’m not saying it because I want to be away from David, but because I don’t want myself to continue to have loose interpretations about his actions and words. Or weird feelings about his throat. It’s just an Adam’s apple and some skin.
“Okay.”
His ready agreement is disappointing. Did I expect him to insist on sharing his car? Why am I being contrary?
You need more coffee.
That. Plus I’m slightly hormonal.
Aunt Flo hormones aren’t supposed to make you notice things about your boss that way.
Shut up.
David gives me the passcode for the underground passageway, telling me to use it just in case. Nodding, I leave before David does. I always arrive in the office at least twenty minutes early because I can get so much work done while it’s still quiet.
Once I’m out of the Batman tunnel, I consider making a discreet loop around his mansion to see if any reporters are still out, but then change my mind. What will I do if they see me and decide to give chase? Do I want to make the news again, this time in one of those slo-mo highway chases?
I shudder. Nope, off to work. The reporters will give up soon enough if I continue to evade them.
Not too long after I settle in and have downloaded the day’s email, David walks by my desk. As always, I set his agenda, check for any messages that require his immediate attention, flag upcoming events he needs to attend and make a list of executive memos and PowerPoint presentations I need to finalize. “New phone” gets added to the list.
Then we have our morning meeting. I tell David about all the items he has scheduled for the day, plus any memos and analysis he needs for them. For some reason he seems slightly distracted, but there are times when he has a lot on his mind. I do my best not to stare at him too much or notice how gorgeous his eyes are when he smiles. The desk between us helps. We’re, like, spaced. And I can look at other things, such as the photos next to his laptop.
“Erin, do you mind handing over your apartment keys?” David asks.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Your keys. So I can send someone to get your things.”
“Don’t you think my place is okay by now?” God, I hope so. Not just for me, but for everyone living in the apartment complex. It can’t be pleasant to have a mob around the building.
“Hard to say. Even if the paparazzi aren’t there in a big group, some of them could be lurking around. They know you’re an easier target to get to than me.”
“Am I going to be at your place much longer, you think?” I don’t want to impose any more than absolutely necessary.
“Probably. I mean…we are ‘engaged.’”
True. I guess it’s part of the role. Maybe I should’ve thought about all this in more detail last night before proposing the idea. “Okay.”
When I get back to my workstation, I order a replacement phone, to be delivered to the office. It seems presumptuous and a little weird to have it come to David’s home. On the other hand, since I’m living with David at the moment, it should be okay to be phone-free for a couple of days. It isn’t like I have anybody else who needs to get in touch with me.
The office begins to buzz as more and more people arrive. Every square inch of my body prickles. People are staring at me. Some are whispering. Some are texting. All are trying hard to be discreet.
Well…almost all. Bev comes over with two coffees and hands one to me. “So. Is it true?” she asks.
“Is what true?” Here it comes.
“Oh, please. It’s all over the news. David is your fiancé?”
Sigh. She could have at least waited until lunch.
“That video was hot. Did you see?” She titters. “What am I saying? Of course you did. You were there!”
“There’s a video?” I ask. I have no idea what she’s talking about. The incident outside the lobby was that much of a blur for me, except for the visceral terror I felt.
“Yeah. Wanna relive the sexy, alpha moment?”
She pulls out her phone and taps a few times, then situates herself so we can watch the screen together.
Reporters are jostling and yelling. I can barely make out what they’re saying. I spot myself and David. He has his arms around me to protectively against the aggressive reporters. I can barely see myself; I’ve got my shoulders curled inward and my head is down.
Suddenly, David says, “She’s mine!”
Bev lets out a squeal. “Did you hear that?” Her voice is at least four octaves higher than normal.
My face heats and warm tingles spread through me. She’s mine.
I know he didn’t mean it the way Bev thinks. But those two words send electric shivers through me anyway.
“So. When did you start da—” She looks down and sees the ruby ring. “Holy shit! Is that what he got for you?”
I nod. I knew this ruby would be super obvious. On the other hand, a diamond wouldn’t have been much better. Just look at how wide and eager Bev’s eyes are. At least the ring’s stunning, I tell myself. The kind I’d secretly love to wear, but wouldn’t dare if it hadn’t been for David pushing it on me.
“Oh wow. Honey, for a ring like this, I’d say yes to anybody.”
Not me. Warren could give me an entire ruby mine, and I’d still run the other way.
The door to David’s office opens and he comes out. Bev looks at him, eyes bright. “Congratulations on the engagement, David.”
He smiles. “Thanks, Bev. Erin, it’s time for the analysis meeting, and
I want you to join us.”
Thank God. “Sure.” I pick up my pen and legal pad and follow him. It’s nice to escape Bev’s prying. When she retires, she’s going to be one of those old ladies on the block who gossips with everyone, watches everyone, records everyone’s movements and, when there’s a murder on the street, will be the one interviewed on TV.
When I think we’re far enough away, I say, “I should’ve thought of everyone’s reaction. After I almost got trampled, it just seemed like such a great idea.”
“Wasn’t your fault. The video of what I said had already gone viral before your proposal anyway. The media was bound to run with it.” He gives me an ironic smile. “And it hasn’t escaped my notice that when I want something to go viral, it doesn’t, but when I’d rather not, it always does. Besides, even if I’d tried to clarify my comment, it would’ve just made things worse.” He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. If your coworkers have extra free time to gossip, I’ll make sure they get more to do.”
I smile, grateful for his casual reaction, which is making me feel better about the situation. David is the only one who can reassure me at the deepest level so easily. “Thanks.”
But it’s never that simple. When we enter the meeting, everyone wants to congratulate us. Wants to know when the happy day is. There is widespread We had no idea. One guy says the news of David’s and my engagement just broke a lot of hearts on the dev team.
“Just the dev team? What about accounting and finance?” another jokes.
Gerry puts a hand over his heart. “I will never be the same again, Erin.”
“Cut it out,” David says with a good-natured laugh.
I nod and smile, since there isn’t any other option, but I wish I could shrink down until nobody could see me. Don’t we have to start the meeting? Talk about marketing stuff? This is really awkward, especially since most people never pay attention to me in meetings. David’s always the star.
Feeling so many gazes, I try to look as radiant as possible, the way a happily engaged woman should. But I’m dreading what they’ll say when the engagement quietly ends in three months.
