by Katy Kaylee
“Oh my! Is that a handsome young specter I see coming towards me?”
I chuckled lightly as I approached the open door leading into the office of possibly my favorite employee in the whole building. Sticking my head in, I saw none other than Annetta calmly making herself a cup of tea.
“Well, I don’t know about handsome, but I definitely feel like I’m dying after being apart from you for so long.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, drawing out the sound while raising her eyebrow in disbelief. “If that were true, you’d visit an old woman more often.”
“Old woman?” I questioned, crossing to sit at the edge of her desk where I usually stationed myself when I visited. “Please, you are like a fine wine.”
“Yeah, made in the nineteen fifties.”
“I more meant aged to perfection.”
“Oh you!” she slapped at my arm. “What’dya want, anyways?”
“Can’t I just be here to visit you?”
“You could, but you never do. I see right through youngsters like you.”
“Youngster? I’m hurt!” I batted my eyes at her. Annette was somewhere between sixty-five and seventy, with deep wrinkles on her face and flaming red hair. She had been one of the first ten employees we had hired and had never left out ship. She was smart as a whip, dedicated to her work, and saucy as hell. I adored her and sometimes felt she was like a mother that I’d never had. The ages worked out, considering I had just turned forty-five a few months prior.
“Yeah, a youngster. You and your taller twin are a reminder why I never had kids.” She let out a dry laugh. “Now really, what can I do ya for?”
It was my last chance to back out and pretend I wasn’t being strangely curious and unprofessional about an employee. I knew that there was nothing I needed to know about the woman, but I told myself that I felt bad about the coffee that was most definitely going to stain her nice shirt.
“I was hoping you could help me find an employee.”
“Oooo,” the elderly woman crooned, tapping her red nails on her desk. “Is someone in trouble?”
“No. I actually need to apologize. Had a bit of a spill and I think they were freaked out and scampered off.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I swear, that’s the truth.”
“Of course, it is,” she said although her tone said she clearly didn’t believe me. “We both know how dedicated you are to being polite.”
“Exactly.”
She smirked. “Alright, let’s get started then. I’m guessing you didn’t get a name or nickname?”
“Nope.”
“Alright. Male or female.” She glanced up at me then rolled her eyes. “Nevermind, female.”
“How did you-”
“I’m not a spring chicken. Some things I just know.”
“Apparently.”
“She young or ol- wait, never mind, I know that too.”
“Is there anything you do need me for?” I asked in amusement. If anyone else talked to me like Annette, I’d probably fire them. But I knew better than to get rid of a gem like her.
“Yeah, hair color?”
“Violet. With streaks of dark and light blue.”
“Huh, I see. One of those types.”
It was my turn to raise my eyebrow. “What do you mean, those types?”
“I’m sure a man as… experienced as you knows exactly what I mean.” I let that slide. I knew well what my reputation was. Hell, the whole country practically did thanks to paparazzi and gossip mags. “Eye color?”
“Green and brown.”
“So hazel?”
“No, one green and one brown.”
“Oh, she said, her interest increasing. “She’s got different color eyes?”
“Yup.”
“Well that narrows it down. I believe this young lady is exactly who you’re looking for.” She turned her computer screen around with a flourish and, sure enough, there was an ID photo of the woman who was suddenly far too prevalent in my mind.
She looked younger in her picture, and her hire date told me that she had started with us three years ago as an intern. Just below that it told me that he was now a team leader on our third floor. That was quite a bit of growth, but how had I never seen her before?
Probably because Samson and I didn’t interact with most of the lower-hires unless we absolutely had to. It helped avoid things like fraternization, or favoritism or any other practices that could be detrimental to morale or productivity.
“Tabitha McCreedy, huh. A unique name.”
“She looks like she’s a unique girl,” Annette said. “She reminds me of this girl I knew back in the day. Rochelle.”
“Oh, you friends with her?”
Annette snorted. “Hardly. She was the bombshell in the typist group I used to work in and we were all intensely jealous of her and how the men all drooled over her wherever she went. They don’t make girls like that anymore.”
“No, they really don’t,” I agreed.
Tabitha, huh? I went about saying goodbye and going through the standard accusations of abandoning Annette whenever I got what I needed, then found myself back on the elevator. My curiosity sated, I told myself to just let it go.
Too bad my curiosity didn’t seem to want to listen.
Tabitha
I walked into work with my head held high, despite the fact that I was one hundred percent certain that everyone had to know about me plowing face first into one of the owners and probably ruining a suit that was worth more than a year of my salary.
Although it wasn’t exactly fair to myself, I always held myself to a very high standard of movement. I couldn’t be klutzy or insecure, because then people would say it was because I was fat. I knew that no one asked me to be the spoke person or representative for all the fat women in the office, but that wasn’t how it worked. Every plus sized lady knew what it was like to never just be themselves and instead stand as some sort of figurehead for all fat people.
But I made it to my desks and there no snickers, so misplaced glances, no whispers. Could… could it be that everyone hadn’t heard about my impromptu audition for slapstick theater?
I got my coffee, this time remembering to put a lid on top of it and went about my day as best I could.
Luckily it wasn’t a meeting heavy day, or really anything that involved a lot of interaction. Instead I was able to sit quietly at my desk and answer email, approve reports, and check our monthly numbers to identify any trends.
It was relaxing, just me and the data, and I even took my lunch at my desk for a little extra me-time.
Whew! It seemed like I was going to make it through the day. I guessed I was lucky that I had two fairly normal bosses who understood that accidents happened and were cool about it. That definitely couldn’t be said about all employers.
I had finally relaxed and really got into my work when suddenly my phone started ringing. It was a shrill, jarring sound, and I couldn’t help but stare at it like some sort of mini-monsters had sprung to life on my desk.
“What the hell?” I asked.
Like most people, everyone on all of our teams hated talking on the phone and would almost always used the in-house messenger we had for all of us. Who the hell would be calling me?
I picked it up slowly, clearing my throat. “Hello?” I asked cautiously.
“Hi, yes, Ms. McCreedy?” the voice on the other hand was pleasant, with a professional sort of sweetness at the end.
“Yes, this is she.”
“Ah yes, this is Stacy from the top floor. If you’re not currently occupied, could you make your way up here?”
I swallowed thickly. The top floor was where the executive suites were. Where the people who literally controlled my paychecks hung out. “Why?” Was all I could ask.
“Mr. Mannon would like to see you.”
“Oh. Right. Of course. I’ll be right there.”
I hung up and worked hard to control my breathing. Already I could feel
sweat peppering my forehead as I tried to think.
Shiiiit.
Mr. Mannon wanted to see me. I was so going to get fired and there was nothing I could do about it. Why hadn’t I just paid attention while I was walking?!
Well, what happened, happened and there was no going back. I was a capable woman, I was sure that I could deal with whatever happened, no matter how unpleasant it was.
Holding my head high, I slid out from my desk. I looked around quickly to see if anyone was paying attention, but my team was all busy with their own tasks. That was good. The last thing I wanted to do was cause a scene. If they were going to kick me out, I’d like to do it as subtly as possible.
Head held high, I marched towards the elevator leading up to the suites. Luckily, they shared the same path as the bathrooms for most of the path and I only needed to deviate the last dozen feet or so.
I didn’t think I’d ever had such a tense elevator ride as I pressed the button to go upwards. My hands were shaking, I could feel more sweat beading on my forehead, and my stomach was twisting like a top.
I had to get control of myself before I exited, so I focused on my breathing. In, and out. In and out. By the time the door opened I had a professional smile fixed on my face and I’d patted down my brow so it was as matte as it should be.
“Hello,” I said, striding forward into the open room where a single desk dominated most of the space. There was a single woman sitting there, dressed quite smartly in a pink and white get up. “Stacy, I’m guessing?”
She practically blinded me with her smile. She was one of those classically beautiful girl, with sweet features and a trim figure. “Ah, Miss McCreedy! Mr. Mannon is waiting for you in the door to the left.”
“Any clue as to why he needed me?” I asked, hoping against hope that she knew. But instead she just gave me a polite shake of the head. Oh well. At least there would be only one person who would witness my inevitable walk-out. “I figured as much. Thank you.”
I took another calming breath and strode forward, my low heels clicking against the polished floor.
It didn’t take nearly enough time to reach the door and I paused before it, raising my fist to knock.
“You can just go in,” the woman said without even turning around. “He’s expecting you.”
“Ah. Right. Of course, he is.”
One last deep breath for the road, and then I pressed the door open.
His office was about everything that I had expected, with a large desk, a treadmill in one corner, a nice sitting area in another and what looked like a full bar. How he ever got any work done was beyond me, because the couch he had in there looked so plush that I just wanted to lay across it.
“Ah, Miss McCreedy, it’s good to see you again.”
Huh, that didn’t sound like the tone one used with somebody who was getting fired. “You know my name?” I asked without thinking. Geez, why did I always sound so silly in front of the man? I swore, I was a relatively intelligent person. I didn’t know why I turned into one of the three stooges every time I was around him.
“Yes, I looked you up.” That made my heart pound way harder than it should have. He looked me up? That seemed… significant. Was it significant? I didn’t know. Nothing like this ever happened to me before. I usually wasn’t the type of women people… noticed. At least not in a positive way.
“You… looked me…”
Thankfully he kept going and saved me from my own confusion. “Yes, I wanted to apologize.”
Of all the things that my manic mind had cooked up in the elevator, that phrase wasn’t in any of them. “Apologize?” I repeated like I was some stupid, brightly colored parrot.
“Yes. If Samson and I had been paying a bit more attention, you wouldn’t have had your lovely outfit from yesterday ruined. I know that stains like that often don’t like to come out in the wash, so I wanted to make it up to you.”
“I, uh, I…” It felt like my brain was short circuiting right in front of him. I didn’t know if it was because of how impossibly handsome he was, or because I hadn’t anticipated our conversation going anything like it was, but for whatever reason my ability to make words was sitting way farther in the back of my brain than it needed to be.
“Here you are. I hope this location is convenient to you. Coffee stains are a real bitch, and these are the only folks I trust with my wardrobe.”
Did he just say ‘bitch’ in front of me?
He held out an envelope between his long, thick fingers and I took it gingerly. It wasn’t sealed, so it was easy to look inside and see a gift card for the service he was talking about. Huh, a dry cleaner that was fancy enough to have gift cards? I was certain that it probably was way out of my price range.
“Thank you,” I murmured, finally seeming to get my head on straight enough to sound like a normal human. “You really didn’t have to.” I looked up to his face and that was a mistake, however. His eyes were so kind, and his jaw was so chiseled that for a moment it was like I was sucked into a black hole of attraction. I had to yank myself out of it and it took everything in me to hold down my blush.
“I wanted to. We take care of our employees here.”
“Uh yeah, you definitely do.” I did that stupid little bow thing again and stepped away from his desk. “Well, I should probably head back to my desk. Lots of work to do to wrap up the day.”
Maybe I should have waited for him to dismiss me, but I was too acutely aware of how he towered over me, and how his low voice made my blood rush. Normally, I never lost my cool this bad around people -even if they were extremely pretty- but I felt like some pubescent school girl all over again. Which was pathetic considering I was a twenty-six-year-old nobody and my two bosses were successful billionaires in their forties.
“You have a good day, Ms. McCreedy.”
“You too!” I called over my shoulder while fumbling with the door handle.
One would think that I had learned my lesson about watching where I was going before, but apparently, I hadn’t. After yanking the door open, I turned my head and stepped forward right into another solid wall.
I stumbled back, this time not having enough momentum for falling over to be an issue, and rubbed my nose. Dread filled me when I realized exactly what I’d run into.
Or who.
Looking up, I saw none other than Samson Loto looking down at me, green eyes shadowed by the furrow of his thick brow. The silence stretched on for a moment, as if we were both trying to figure out if this was really happening again, before I snapped to reality.
“Sorry!” I said quickly, darting to the side and squeezing out the door past him. It wasn’t an easy task considering how much he took up of the doorway and I was pretty sure that I might have hipp checked him on my way out.
Cheeks burning, I rushed to the elevator with Mr. Mannon’s envelope clutched close to my chest. I didn’t relax until the doors closed behind me and only then did I allow myself to slump against a wall.
I was being ridiculous, acting like a newly hormonal teen who was lost to their attractions. But could anyone really blame me? Because geez, my bosses were really, really hot.
It wasn’t fair.
Samson
I stood there for several moments, frozen in my friend’s doorway while my body burned everywhere that strange woman had touched.
It was uncanny. The little spot in the center of my chest felt like someone had pressed a coal to it, and my leg tingled where her soft, oh so soft hip had brushed against it. Dozens of questions peppered my mind, but if I focused to answer them, I knew I would lose the pleasant sensation churning through me.
Who was she? Why was she up here? Obviously, she was a lower level employee and that was how we had met the first time, but that didn’t explain what she was doing up in the executive suite.
And it certainly didn’t explain how viscerally my body reacted to her. Sure, she was my type, all curves and softness, feminine wiles tied up in an innocent looking packa
ge. Everything from her heart shaped face to her doe-like, mismatched eyes lent itself to the idea that she was some chaste maiden waiting to be swept up and debauched.
A soft laugh from Xavier’s desk drew me out of the fantasies that I should definitely not be having about someone who’s paycheck I controlled, and I looked over to see him smirking at his desk. I hadn’t been friends with him nearly my entire life to not know what that kind of smile meant, which was that he was plotting something, and so far, it was going well.
“What was she doing up here?” I asked gravelly, trying to withhold a sigh.
“Oh, nothing important. Just giving her a voucher for her dry cleaning considering that double barrel chest of your ruined that cute outfit she was wearing yesterday.”
I grimaced that I didn’t think of that. In fact, I hadn’t thought much at all except for her from the moment she crashed into me until Xavier and I left the building later.
It had been a bit similar to being crashed into by a flying comet. One moment I was just walking along, the next I was body to body with someone warm and welcoming.
I’d reacted before I thought, reaching out to grip her waist as she nearly toppled backwards. Instantly, my hand told me all sorts of input about what it felt as it pressed into the small of her back: the softness of her skin, the way the tips of my fingers bit into her skin ever so minutely, the heat of her form. It was like I had suddenly been drenched in want, desire and acute awareness of available woman right in front of me and it had taken everything in me to just walk away.
That wasn’t like me. I had no shortage of willing partners, so it wasn’t like I was hard up. I’d just been extraordinarily busy lately and hadn’t had much time for extra curricular activities. But that didn’t mean I was some desperate Cro-Magnon who went drooly and slack-jawed any time they saw a pretty woman.
