by Katy Kaylee
“You do not get the right to talk to me like that,” she hissed after recovering from the shock of the moment. “I am not some whore you can buy off. You followed me out onto that balcony. You asked me to dance.”
“And you kissed both of us,” Samson muttered quietly, his face clearly a mask of conflict.
“Yeah, and that clearly was a mistake.”
She eased to the side then stepped down from the desk. I watched her, partially still surprised from the slap and partially surprised at how much I liked it. That was another strange thing I had just learned about myself. But there was something particularly irresistible about a strong woman who didn’t take shit from anyone, even her own boss. I knew I shouldn’t have said what I said, but I had anyways. If calling someone a whore or a con artist wasn’t a reason for a slap to the face, I didn’t know what was.
“I don’t need your money, I don’t need to look at your stupid faces, and I certainly don’t need this,” she said righteously before storming out.
The door slammed harshly behind her and all I could do was look to Samson with eyebrows raised.
“What was that about no touching?”
“It was a momentary lapse in judgement,” he answered, his voice so low and gravely I had to wonder how tightly his throat was squeezing. It was something that it’d taken me several years to recognize after we’d become friends, but it was how he sounded whenever he was trying to hold back too many emotions. “It won’t happen again.”
“Uh-huh,” I answered like that was what I had wanted to hear.
But it wasn’t. Bizarrely enough, I actually felt a bit disappointed at the promise.
I wanted it to happen again.
That was about one too many personal revelations in a very short time, so I found myself standing again. “I’m gonna go head to my office. It looks like you could use a little private time.”
Samson puffed up like he was going to object, but he knew that I knew him too well for that and just sank into his chair. “Yeah, you should do that.”
Giving him a nod, I headed out and didn’t stop until I was draped across my own couch.
So… Tabitha and Samson had kissed. That wasn’t that big of a deal, right? I had already kissed her after all. And it wasn’t like I asked how they got into that situation.
Then again, there were only so many ways to end up kissing a woman while she was kneeling on your desk.
I sighed and rubbed at my temples, trying not to think of how Samson had been ravaging Tabitha’s face and how she’d practically been putty in his hands. I’d watched for at least ten seconds longer than what was polite, caught up in the furor of their embrace, and I still didn’t know if I should be jealous or stick with the faint bit of arousal that was still lingering within me.
It was just I’d… never seen Samson that passionate about a woman. Sure, we were close enough to know that both of us could be a little intense in the bedroom, but that was about as far as it went. And neither of us really paraded it out in the open. If we did indulge in PDA, it was always light. Cute. Appropriate for public.
There had been nothing about that kiss that was appropriate.
I turned the whole situation over in my head, this way and that, trying to figure out what it all meant. After probably an hour of shuffling through why I was so intensely set on this one woman, why Samson had been kissing her so thoroughly, why she had kissed either of us, the only real conclusion I came to was that I probably owed her an apology for my comment.
Ugh. For all of my supposedly being the ‘people person’ of our dynamic duo, I’d certainly shoved my foot in my mouth, hadn’t I?
Sighing to myself, I went to my bar and pulled a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge installed in it. I let myself drink the whole thing before heading out, tossing the bottle into the recycling can in the corner as I went.
If Stacy thought anything odd about all of the comings and goings that afternoon, she didn’t say anything. But then again, Stacy had also been there from the beginning just like Annette and she’d certainly seen some drama over the past years. She knew how to roll with the punches with the best of them, and I had a feeling today had a whole lot more punches in store for me.
I headed down to the floor where all of this started, gathering my thoughts as I went. I had already looked up on the org chart where her desk was, so I wouldn’t have a problem finding it. No, the most difficult part of my little jaunt would be dealing with all the other employees who would no doubt stare at me with wide eyes, wondering why I had decided to come visit.
I’d have to get Tabitha away. If I apologized to her in front of them, it would just cause way too much gossip and I knew that would stress her out. While she clearly didn’t mind receiving accolades for doing her job well, it seemed that she wasn’t the type to like any other kind of attention. And gossiping was about the worst attention there was. I knew from personal experience and several dozen unpleasant run ins with paparazzi over the years.
As soon as I was out of the elevator, I took on a casual sort of stride and walked towards her team’s area. I had a whole plan in my head how I was going to make a nonchalant request to talk to her, almost like a drive by, but I was only halfway to her desk when I noticed that it was empty.
Damn.
I changed my course, as if I was just walking the perimeter to think -not that was something I ever did, but I needed something as a cover to explain why I was stalling in case she went to the bathroom or was pulling herself together somewhere else.
But after two laps I realized I was being far to conspicuous and headed instead towards the break room on that floor.
She wasn’t there either.
I sighed and went for the cafeteria on our middle floor.
Nope, not there either.
I could feel myself growing more frustrated, and against my better judgement, I found myself going back to her floor and asking the woman who the org chart said was Tabitha’s second in command where the hell her team leader was.
“Oh, she actually went home for the day. Did you need something?”
Dammit! I shook my head, putting on what I hoped was a charming grin. “Nothing that couldn’t be communicated in an email. Sometimes you just have to stretch your legs, you know, and this got me out of my office.”
“I know what you mean! Sometimes I get a little stir crazy in here.”
“I’m sure.”
I nodded my head towards her then quickly exited, heading right back to that office that I supposedly needed such a break from. Once I was back in with the door closed, I practically flopped into my oversized office chair behind my desk.
How juvenile. Since when did I flop onto anything? Tabitha was bringing all sorts of strange habits, thoughts and reactions out of me, it seemed, and I couldn’t decide whether that excited me or terrified me.
I closed my eyes, letting my head fall back against the chair. Tabitha was gone and was liable to never come back. I just had to deal with that. It was my fault after all. We would be lucky if she didn’t bring some sort of lawsuit against us. While the kisses seemed to be alright by her, I didn’t think that basically calling her a whore had been a good move.
God, I was such an idiot.
I just wanted to apologize. That was all. It wasn’t sitting well in my gut that our last words to each other might be so vile, or sarcastic. She didn’t deserve that.
And if I was honest, it made me incredibly uncomfortable to think that her lasting mental image would be of me with a sneer on my face as I insulted her.
I opened my eyes and they flicked to the computer, considering. I knew I shouldn’t, that I would probably be violating about a dozen different privacy laws, but still…
Before I could even pro and con list it all in my head, I was logging into our employee database and pulling up Tabitha’s file again. Sure enough, her address was right there where it was supposed to be. Annette always made sure everyone always filled all forms to completion.<
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I knew a great florist between our office and her place, on the far side of the city. It would be easy to swing by there, get an apology bouquet, then swing by her house to deliver them along with all the ‘sorry’s that I felt I needed to say. Surely it would be crossing a line, showing up to her house uninvited, but I had a feeling that she wouldn’t be returning to work the next day for me to make it up to her.
Besides, I’d seen the stormy and hurt expression when the woman had stormed out of Samson’s office. It was like he was losing something that he wouldn’t admit that he wanted. I didn’t like the thought that perhaps I had taken away a hopeful possibility from my best friend’s life. He’d been through quite a bit, with his father’s death two years previous, and a long string of relationships in his twenties and early thirties that never went anywhere. While he still loved women intensely, I’d never seen him look at any of them like he had looked at Tabitha’s retreating form.
So, I had to make it all right, even if I was maybe crossing a line to do so.
Nodding to myself, I picked up my phone and went to call the florist to see just how fast they could whip up one of their really eye-catching works.
I parked in a surprisingly-open street spot, looking up at the dingy looking apartment building that had been in Tabitha’s file. It didn’t look quite like a slum or anything truly terrible, but it wasn’t exactly… nice either. I couldn’t help but think that she deserved so much more. Not anything cheesy like a palace, but perhaps a nice two bedroom on the east side. And that didn’t have anything to do with the fact that she would be so much closer to me.
At all.
I turned off my car and just sat there for several moments, thinking if I was being rash and I should just turn around and forget the overly large bouquet in my passenger’s seat. But I’d already come this far, and her apartment was right there.
Sighing to myself, I wondered when I had lost my steely determination and always knowing what I was doing. I felt like I was spinning around, an uncontrolled top with no set path. It was frustrating, but at the same time, I couldn’t see any other path than marching right up to her door and…
Oh shit, she had an intercom.
Of course, she had an intercom.
Rubbing my temples, I figured I might as well just get it over with. I would just go up, buzz her apartment, tell her that I wanted to apologize, then have her curse me out and to never speak to her again.
Great. Perfect. Exactly what I wanted.
I allowed myself another full minute to grouse internally before bucking up and walking up to her door.
I looked through the intercom for her last name, finding it near the end. I pressed it with way more confidence than I felt, then waited for her reply.
Honestly, I didn’t even know if she would be in. She could be out doing some retail therapy, or perhaps having an afternoon brunch with he girls. There were dozens of different things she could be doing that would-
“Hello?”
Although it was distorted and buzzy, I could tell that it was Tabitha. I cleared my throat, wondering where all of my smooth words and charm went.
“Hello, Ms. McCreedy. It’s-”
“Mr. Mannon?”
Part of me was pleased that she could tell who I was so easily. “Yes, it’s me.”
“I’m not sure what part of my storming out wasn’t clear, but I don’t have anything to say to you right now.”
“I know,” I said, trying to sound repentant but not desperate. “But I have things I want to say to you.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do. Lo-”
“I’d like to apologize.”
That seemed to surprise her out of her anger. Or at least that was what I hoped happened when she was silent for several beats.
After maybe half a minute of standing there, I began to wonder if she wasn’t going to answer again. If she didn’t, that was just going to have to be it. I wouldn’t press her, and I certainly wouldn’t try to contact her again.
Even if I desperately wanted to.
But then, just when I was going to call her name again, the intercom buzzed loudly, and the door clicked.
Oh.
She was letting me in.
I could work with that.
Tabitha
I knew that I was absolutely bat shit insane for letting him up. It was irresponsible, it was stupid, it was ridiculous… and yet I wanted to hear what he had to say.
Maybe it was because I was still so flustered from that kiss with Samson. I would be outright lying if I didn’t admit that he had turned me on so hot that I felt a like a lightbulb would explode from the overload if I touched it. All of my nerves felt too sensitive and I was wound tighter than one of those newfangled toy tops that were all over the internet.
It seemed to take forever for Mr. Mannon to ever get up to my apartment, my stomach churning as my mind came up with dozens and dozens of different scenarios, almost all of them involving the apology being fake and him taking his chance to really dress me down to size.
Well, if he wanted to play dirty, then I would serve the same right back at him. I could feel my mouth tensing, readying for a truly spectacular tongue lashing that I would smack right down on his head.
Finally he knocked, and I stalked over with my diatribe well and truly ready, only to stop short when I realized that he was standing there with a contrite expression and a massive bouquet of flowers in his hands.
“Hello,” I said after a beat of just staring at him in utter shock.
“Hello,” he answered cautiously, as if he was afraid that I would bolt at any moment. Which was silly considering we were standing in the entryway to my apartment. It wasn’t like I could go anywhere.
But I could slam the door in his face, I supposed. Not that I would -at least not until I heard this supposed apology.
“Look, I was out of line. Both today, and… that night.” He didn’t need to clarify what he meant by that, I knew. The night of the party, and more specifically when his lips had crashed to mine, had been burned into my memory like a brand. I had replayed it in my head for what felt like hundreds of times and I knew thousands more were to come. That kiss had made me feel alive, for all that it was incredibly stupid.
“I know I shouldn’t have kissed you, or let you kiss me, or whatever it was that happened. It was just… you looked so beautiful there, standing in the starlight. Vulnerable, almost. It made me want to comfort you, you know? Protect you from whatever was making you so upset.”
That was… that was nowhere near what I was expecting. I found myself staring at him again, utterly shocked, as my mind tried to wrap itself around what he was saying. “Whoever said I needed protection?” I managed to ask, only barely managing not to sound like a complete and utter dolt.
He chuckled slightly and at least some of the tension drained away from the situation. It was weird to see him as anything less than one hundred percent assured in himself and I couldn’t help but wonder if I made him that way.
The very idea seemed bizarre. I was just an employee of his, not some Hollywood starlet or model. Not to mention I was fat, comparatively poor, and only a little over half his age. I was sure that my apartment looked like an absolute hovel to him and that my vibrantly colored hair just further emphasized how we were on totally opposite ends of the spectrum. There was no way, no how, that someone like him could be attracted to someone like me.
“True. I guess I did just assume.”
“And you know what assuming does.”
“Well, the saying goes that it makes an ass out of you and me, but given our situation, I’m pretty sure I was the sole ass.” He straightened and handed me the flowers. “I’d like to ask for your forgiveness, if you can find it within yourself to give it.
“If you can’t, I understand. But I’d hate to think that I hurt your feelings because of sheer stupidity.”
Wow. That was some apology. No ‘I’m sorry your feel that way’ or ‘you made me do x’. Jus
t honest, straight up what he did wrong, why he knew it was wrong, and how he hoped to move past it. I knew a lot of people who could learn a thing or two from him.”
“I don’t know if the blame can be entirely in your corner,” I said, taking the flowers and setting them oh-so-gently on the stand by the door. “I kissed you. I kissed your partner at the company.” I felt myself blush vibrantly at that. Oh God, I had really kissed both of my highest bosses. And the second one hadn’t just been a kiss. I’d freakin’ crawled on top of a desk and yanked Samson down on me like I was a madwoman.
And who knew, maybe I was. It felt like I had suddenly flung myself into an alternate reality where billionaire, ripped men lusted after me like teenagers. Sounded delusional if you asked me.
“Given what I learned from our short…encounter, I can’t blame Samson for giving into the temptation either.”
Something about his tone made me look up into his eyes and I nearly gasped at the look cast across his dashing features. His eyes were half-lidded, with pupils blown. If I didn’t know better, I would say that it looked like he wanted me.
“Oh, so I’m a temptation now?” I whispered after I swallowed. I felt breathless, like I had just run a marathon, which was ridiculous considering I’d never run a marathon in my entire life.
“Tabitha,” he murmured and goodness, my name sounded like pure sex as he leaned in ever so slightly. “You’ve been a temptation since the first moment I saw that coffee spilled all over that white blouse of yours.”
Oh.
Oh!
It happened again. One moment I was standing there, looking up at him in utter shock at the revelation, the next we were kissing fervently.
Holy shit.
What was the phrase? Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me? Well, fool me three times was apparently the time that shame was thrown out the window because I felt absolutely none of it as my lips opened up to Mr. Mannon’s.
I didn’t know how, but my arms ended up around his shoulders and we were backpedaling into my small apartment. It registered somewhere in the back of my mind that Mr. Mannon reached behind us to slam the door closed, but that was probably the last logical thought I had before his hands were all over me.
