by Nikki Chase
If I had bothered to read some business magazines beforehand, I would’ve recognized him from the get-go. It seemed strange to me that he was only in his twenties and yet already so successful.
Then I learned about his family and it all made sense. Let’s just say that multiple members of his extended family have appeared in articles like Top 100 Wealthiest Americans or Owners of San Fransisco’s Most Expensive Homes.
So he comes from money. Old money. How nice.
I sigh and look up at the computer screen. I’m almost done with the research portion of this presentation. I just need to gather all the information in one file, organize it into separate sections based on which PowerPoint slides they correspond to, and email the file to Steffi.
While I save my work to a flash drive, I grab my new iPhone and press the button to turn on the display. Besides some new clothes, this phone is one of the first things I bought with my salary.
Yes, I am saving up to move out of Alice’s apartment. But after everything I’ve been through, I feel like I deserve to splurge on something. Plus, my old phone was so slow the screen was frozen half the time.
Now, according to my new awesome phone, it’s already eight.
I haven’t eaten anything since lunch. I should probably head home now and finish up tomorrow.
As usual, there are a few notifications from the chat app. I bet they’re all worried messages from Alice. I tap the app icon and — what do you know — I’m right.
Alice Webb: Em, where are you?
Alice Webb: Still at work?
Alice Webb: Overtime again?
Alice Webb: They better be paying you REALLY well
I smile to myself. I get these messages every work night, but my sister’s excessive worry still hasn’t failed to amuse me.
Emily Webb: Coming home soon
Placing my phone on Lily’s desk, I grab my bag and stuff my things inside. Wallet, keys, flash drive.
Maybe if I have some time after dinner I can continue working on the presentation on Alice’s computer.
I glance at the phone, watching as Alice’s messages come through.
Alice Webb: It’s late
Alice Webb: Damn that boss of yours
Alice Webb: One of these days you should lick his ass
I frown for a second, confused. I re-read the last message and burst out in laughter, my voice echoing in the big, empty space that is the office at night.
That is the best autocorrect typo ever!
Alice doesn’t seem to have noticed. She would’ve corrected it if she had.
Emily Webb: LMAO
Emily Webb: I had no idea you were so kinky
Alice Webb: OMG
Alice Webb: KICK!!!
Alice Webb: KICK his ass
Emily Webb: Come on Alice
Emily Webb: We both know why your phone went with lick instead
Emily Webb: You type that phrase “lick his ass” all the time, huh?
Emily Webb: Freudian slip
Still grinning, I pick my bag up and walk past the rows of desks toward the elevator.
Alice Webb: Very funny
Alice Webb: Just come home
Emily Webb: Hey, I don’t judge
Emily Webb: You do you
I drop the phone in my bag with a smirk on my face. Alice is probably not going to reply anymore, now that I’ve successfully annoyed her.
This is nice, I think to myself as I step inside the elevator.
I’ve gotten a lot of things done today. Finished presentation research, helped Lily keep her job, and even laughed with Alice, just like old times.
My life is finally starting to look normal again.
As the elevator takes me from the 30th floor down to the lobby, I watch the red LED numbers in the display count down. The smaller the floor number, the more blurry it gets. I realize my eyes have filled with water and a knot has formed in my throat. Thinking about how far I’ve come always gets me all sappy.
I carefully dab at the corners of my eyes so I don’t ruin my make-up. I blink a few times and take a deep breath just as the elevator door opens. Stepping out into the lobby of the building, I hear the familiar chat app notification alerts and fish my phone out of the bag.
“Good night, Andy,” I say, holding the phone in my hand.
Andy is one of the two young security guards who are always stuck with the night shift. Working late as often as I do, I’m on a first-name basis with both guards now.
“Night, Emily,” he says with a friendly smile. “You take care now.”
“You too!”
I walk past the automatic sliding glass doors and breathe in the San Fransisco air, nice and warm even in the fall. It’s actually almost warmer now than it was in the summer.
While making my way to the bus stop, I check Alice’s last messages.
Alice Webb: Actually it wouldn’t be such a bad idea for you to lick someone’s ass if that’s what you’re into
Alice Webb: lol
Alice Webb: It’s been too long
I sigh. Here we go again.
She makes bad jokes all the time. As much as I hate them, I can’t bring myself to tell her because she tries so hard. And that’s not even the worst problem with her message.
I know Alice means well, but there’s only so much nagging I can take. I drop the phone back in my bag.
She’s gone so far as to arrange blind dates for me, as soon as I got this job. It’s like she has some sort of a to-do list.
Find Em a job. Tick.
Next on the list: Find Em a man.
I went the first three times because she had gone through so much trouble arranging those meetings for me, but I just lost interest after the third dull stranger.
Seriously, she acts more like an overbearing mom or a nosey aunt than a sister sometimes. She needs to get a life of her own.
It’s not that she’s completely wrong. It has been a while.
But what can I say? I just don’t feel like getting on Tinder and trying to force a connection with strangers. I may be only twenty-five, but I already feel too old for that nonsense.
I believe it’ll happen when it happens. And if it doesn’t happen, well, unlike Alice, I’m okay with that too.
Cole
I sit in my BMW X5 M and let the darkness envelop me. The car park seems deserted and sinister now that most people have left the office. I only see two other cars in this sea of gray concrete.
I turn the air conditioner on. Maybe it’ll help cool my head.
I’m the last person who should hang around her.
That quickly became apparent earlier tonight, when it was just the two of us at the office and I almost couldn’t hold myself back.
I didn’t know it was her at first. After ending a phone call with a supplier in China, I took off my earphones and heard someone typing and clicking, so I peeked out my office door to check.
And there she was, sitting in the dark, with only the cool blue light from the computer monitor illuminating her. She had her back to me. I could just make out her silhouette, the outline of her long blonde hair shimmering like a halo.
She wore her hair loose and straight tonight. It looked so soft and shiny. Before I could stop myself, a mental image of her appeared in my mind — her kneeling in front of me, panting with her full lips around my cock and her ponytail in my fist.
I quickly shooed that thought away.
She looked so absorbed in whatever she was doing, I didn’t have the heart to break the silence and surprise her.
So, like some creep, I stood in the darkness and watched her. I almost forgot how oblivious she can be to her surroundings.
When the phone rang and she walked over to Lily’s desk, I could see she was wearing a tight navy pencil skirt and a black button-down shirt that fit just as snugly, outlining her feminine curves.
She moved fluidly, with poise. Straight posture, head held high, shoulders back.
On impulse, my gaze fixated
on the way her hips swayed as she walked. It was hypnotizing. I started imagining those hips rocking on top of me, her head tilted back and her breath coming out in short, erratic gasps.
It’s crazy the way she turns my brain cells into filthy muck.
She reached the desk and bent down to use the corded landline phone, completely unaware and vulnerable. It was so fucking hard to stop myself from just walking over there, pushing her down until she was fully bent over the desk, and having my way with her right then and there in the middle of the office.
When she moved her stuff to Lily’s desk, I groaned inwardly.
There was an important folder there that I needed for tomorrow’s meeting, and now I couldn’t just grab it and slip away into the darkness. I had to literally take the file from under Emily’s nose. Which meant I had to talk to her.
Why was she staying so late in the office anyway?
I wondered if she was having problems fitting in, if there were people making her do their work for them.
I know Steffi isn’t too happy about me hiring Emily without consulting her, even though she does need a junior marketing person and, by all accounts, Emily is doing well.
I don’t know why she’s complaining, although it might have something to do with the fact that I did Emily’s interview myself.
It’s ancient history now, but Steffi and I once went out for drinks with a bunch of other marketing people. And she ended up spread-eagled on my bed screaming my name by the end of the night.
It was just that one time. But since then, she started dropping a few obvious hints about “having drinks” together. It became such a big pain in the ass that I decided to never have any personal dealings with my employees outside of the office.
I know, I know. Work and personal should be separate. That’s something any idiot should know, but what can I say? I’m just the kind of idiot who has to find out for myself and learn from experience.
Evidently, now that Emily’s working here, I’ve thrown that notion out the window.
I wonder if Steffi could be so unprofessional as to dump all her work on Emily out of spite.
I’ve been so busy with meetings I don’t spend as much time at the office anymore. I just got back from New York last night, and I already had a conference in Seattle scheduled for next week.
To be completely honest, with Emily at the office, I’d rather stay put here. I still don’t trust myself to get too close to her, but I can at least watch over her, make sure she’s doing okay, find out if anybody’s hurting her.
The longer I watched her in the dark office, the angrier I got. She wasn’t supposed to have so much work that she had to stay back so late at the office. And why the fuck was she working alone anyway? Where was the rest of her team?
Fueled by rage, I approached her, making sure to make some noise as I walked so she’d know I was coming.
When she looked up to see me, her eyes got big and worried, like she got caught doing something wrong. It made me want to scoop her up, stroke her shiny hair, and tell her everything was going to be okay. I was going to get back at the bastards who took advantage of her.
“Hi, Cole,” she said.
I can’t remember what I said to her, but I know it didn’t go very well. I probably came across as angry — which I was, but not at her.
When she started defending her colleagues, I had to stop myself. I don’t want to be the angry boss that everyone secretly hates, at least not in her eyes. I couldn’t care less what the rest of them think of me.
So instead of spewing more stupid angry shit, I went and asked her to come home with me.
That was the stupidest shit I’ve ever said in my life. But to be fair, I couldn’t help myself, with her sitting there all doe-eyed and irresistible.
Fuck. I’m in trouble, aren’t I?
I haven’t even taken another woman to my bed since that night I saw her at the bar.
I can’t stop thinking about how close Emily was, how I could’ve just swept everything off the desk, claimed her sinfully delicious body, and made her mine.
Because I’ve seen the way she looks at me.
People think my success with the ladies comes from my looks, my money, or my charm. Sure, those things help. But the real key is knowing exactly which woman to pick up at any given bar, which one would be open to my persuasion.
And Emily? Well, let’s just say I can tell she wants me too.
But Emily Webb is off limits. So off limits it’s not even funny.
Let me paint you a picture.
There are seven billion people on this planet. And out of those seven billion people, she’s the one person I shouldn’t mess around with. Literally anybody else — including the people who are married, or gay, or both — would be a better choice.
I knew I was playing with fire when I hired her. If I get any closer, I could lose everything. And yet I’m acting like a bedazzled moth, circling toward certain death and not caring.
Oh well, at least next week I’ll be out of town again. I could use the time apart to cool the fuck down. Because no amount of air conditioning could help as long as Emily is within my reach.
Emily
“Oh my God,” I exclaim to the almost-empty office.
It's lunchtime now and most people have gone out to eat. It's just Lily and me now, two paupers digging our way out of abject poverty, one bagged lunch at a time.
She looks up at me from underneath her straight bangs, a few strands of spaghetti hanging out of her mouth, red tomato sauce smeared on her lips. Her wide eyes are fixed on me as she waits for me to continue.
“How do these ads know what's in my shopping cart at Banana Republic?” I turn my monitor toward Lily so she can see the rectangular banners on the screen for herself.
Lily narrows her eyes at me.
“Really?” Her voice comes out muffled, the noodles bouncing on her lip as she speaks. She noisily sucks the spaghetti into her mouth, chews, and swallows. She repeats, “Really?”
“Hey, this is serious, okay? It's creepy,” I say, taking a big bite of my ham sandwich.
“It's the twenty-first century. Live with it,” she says. “Why were you shopping in the first place?”
“That’s in the past.” I shrug. “What's important is right now. And right now I’m working. I’m looking for the tickets and hotel for the Seattle conference.”
“Oh, for Cole and Steffi?”
“Yup.”
“Oh. They're not taking the private jet?” Lily sounds surprised. “Trouble in paradise.”
I raise my eyebrows at Lily, widening my eyes.
“Are you saying… Are they…” The question is right at the tip of my tongue, but for some reason, I can't quite spit the words out.
“That's what I heard,” Lily says, lowering her voice and looking around the empty office. As she leans closer, her dark hair tumbles forward to partially cover her face. “You know how private Cole is. I'm his personal assistant and I don't know much about the guy.”
“Uh-huh,” I say, urging her to continue. I put down my brown paper bag on the desk and pay attention.
“Well, Brian from accounting told me that a bunch of people from the office went out for a drink one time,” Lily says in a low, conspiratorial tone. “And they saw Cole and Steffi going home together.”
I gasp.
“Right? Shocking.” She smiles, her eyes dancing with excitement. “They say those two are actually living together, but they’re just really secretive about it. They always arrive and leave separately.”
My chest tightens at the thought of Cole and Steffi secretly ducking in and out of his car together, going home together. I think about how to respond to this news, but my own emotions surprise me. Why should I care who goes home with him?
“Oh, speaking of the devil,” Lily says, glancing toward the elevator doors. I hear the familiar clicking and clacking of Steffi’s stilettos getting closer.
Who wears stilettos to the office anyw
ay?
“Steffi,” I say.
She keeps walking, her eyes looking straight ahead, her wavy brown hair swishing against her back.
“Steffi,” I say louder.
“Huh?” Steffi stops and scans the office with a confused expression on her face, like she can't comprehend why there would be people in the office during lunch. Well, sorry I don't have a rich boyfriend to take me out for expensive meals every day.
“Oh, Emily,” Steffi says finally. She looks annoyed already. “What do you need?”
Wow. Sorry for trying to help you.
“I need your frequent flier number and some other details,” I say.
Steffi continues to stare at me like I’ve barged into her living room in the middle of the night and she can't understand why.
“You know, to book the flight? Seattle?” If that doesn't jog her memory, I don't know what will.
“Right.” She continues her march and says, “Just email me,” before she disappears into her office.
I look at Lily and roll my eyes. I open my notes on the computer, copy the list of personal details I need from Steffi, and paste it into my email composer.
“Wow,” Lily says.
“Yeah,” I say while I hit the Send button. “Welcome to my life. I'm doing her work and whatever work her nonexistent personal assistant is supposed to do.”
“Wow,” she repeats.
“You’ve already said that.”
“Well.” Lily puts her fork down and leans back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. “Now you know why.”
“Why what?”
“Why she's so mean to you, dummy. She's Cole’s girlfriend, you're...you, and she's jealous.”
“Whoa, back up a little.” I raise both my hands, palms facing Lily. “What do you mean I’m me?”
“You obviously have something going on with Cole,” Lily says, raising one eyebrow at me.
“What are you talking about?”
“He interviewed you personally. At first, I thought you were management, but you're not. So there must be something between the two of you. I know Cole doesn't do interviews for junior positions,” she says, drawing confident conclusions like she's Sherlock Holmes.
