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Virgin's Passion

Page 3

by Kayla C. Oliver


  Outside of his socially appropriate façade, Potter liked to visit a couple gentlemen’s establishments that were located outside the city. He also had a small apartment in Portland I doubted his wife knew anything about. Neither one of those things were a crime. I wasn’t convinced he was a criminal. But morally bankrupt, yes, of that I was sure. Especially when I saw him advancing on the Pin-Up Girl like he was a spider and she was a fly stuck in the web.

  “Hey, James.” Potter cleared his throat as I approached. The Pin-Up Girl looked at me and I saw her visibly sigh with relief.

  “Mr. Potter. Miss.” I nodded as I pulled a crumpled piece of paper from my breast pocket. “I’ve got a damaged carpet by printer number four. Can you point me in the right direction? I can’t ever keep these straight.”

  “Sure, pal. Follow me.” Potter stepped away from the Pin-Up Girl and I couldn’t help it. I looked her up and down and thanked God for the female form. Not all of them were put together this way, but if I’d been an artist I’d have been begging her to pose for me. I wanted to sculpt her, paint her, and drink her in. But since I wasn’t an artist, all I was doing was leering.

  It might have been wishful thinking but I could have sworn I saw a thank you in her eyes as Potter backed away and she escaped down the hall. I heard her reply to Patty who asked how she was doing.

  “My God,” Potter gasped after a minute. “I’d drink that girl’s bathwater.”

  I said nothing. Yeah, I’d looked too, but that didn’t mean I agreed with stalking her, which it seemed like Potter had started up already. He liked to do that with good-looking new hires.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to get anything done knowing she’s just down the hall from my office. That body is not made for sitting behind a desk. It’s for being underneath one. Preferably mine.”

  Once again, I stayed silent.

  “Here you go, James.” He nodded at the toner surrounded by spilled ink. “That dumb broad can’t ever figure out how not to spill the toner.”

  “Thanks, Larry.”

  I was happy to see him walk away. The guy had a way of making me feel like any second, my skin was going to peel off my muscles in disgust.

  The spot on the carpet was like a black hole. The girl must have spilled half the cartridge. Since it was going to take a while to clean, I radioed Bob and told him where I was.

  “They can’t be that stupid,” Bob laughed. “They do that to get you up there.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Right. Their fantasies revolve around me.”

  “It’s got to be the reason. You don’t wear any wedding ring. You look like Brad Pitt or Colin Firth. The sleeves of your shirt are too tight.”

  “My sleeves?” I looked down at my shirt in surprise.

  “You’re a single guy with muscles. Just admit it. You’re the office eye candy.”

  “Everyone is at lunch,” I pointed out. “I’m all alone up here.”

  Just then, three of the women from the office came down the corridor carrying plastic containers of lunch leftovers. Their conversation stopped as they became aware of me.

  “Sounds like it, James. Let me know when you’re done.”

  I could see the smirk on Bob’s face from eighty floors down.

  I finished cleaning up the toner spill in between answering questions about what I was doing this coming weekend. It was only Tuesday. Sadly, I was sure my weekend would include debriefing Rodriguez.

  Ruth, who had brassy hair in a ponytail, wheeled her office chair out of her cubicle and told me everyone was meeting at the bar downstairs this Friday.

  “That was what Patty said,” I replied.

  “Oh, did she?” Ruth looked in the direction of the lobby. “Well, come by, if you aren’t busy.”

  “Maybe I will.” Nothing sounded worse, but it might be an opportunity to skirt my daily check-in with Rodriguez.

  “Great.” Ruth pushed herself back into her cubicle.

  I needed a break and headed downstairs to take a walk around the building. When I got down there, I saw the Pin-Up Girl. She looked like she was marching to war.

  Chapter Five

  Candace

  My stomach was a pit of snakes. It rolled and folded and squirmed all over itself, and I was sure I was going to puke if I even looked at the lunch I’d brought from home. It was a good one, too, of crackers with finely chopped onions, pickles, some kind of fancy sandwich spread, and Swiss cheese, plus a couple of Hershey kisses for dessert. But suddenly, the thought of eating anything made me green.

  Did that Potter guy really say what I think he said, or am I just imagining things?

  “How could he know?” I grumbled. I didn’t recognize him, not that I could really see the faces of the men in their seats as I danced. There were lights, and people milling around, and the place was huge. “He’s got nothing. Nothing.”

  I stomped up the sidewalk to the revolving doors. Just as I was about to go inside the building, the maintenance man who’d interrupted Potter and me in the hallway appeared. He was so hot.

  “Hi.” He smiled and waved. “How is your first day going?”

  “How’d you know it was my first day?” I asked, and raised my right eyebrow suspiciously.

  “I would have noticed you.” The innocent smile never left his face. “My name is James Clevis.” He extended his hand.

  “Candace Lowell,” I replied and shook his big, rough hand, slightly at odds with his otherwise perfect appearance, but no less sexy. “I should thank you for rescuing me up there.” “That guy, Larry Potter,” I went on for some reason, though I didn’t know this mean, “He’s not really conscious of other people’s personal space.”

  “He does that.” James nodded. “I’ve seen him before, and you are right. I just don’t think he realizes that most people don’t want to see up his nostrils.”

  I laughed.

  We stood there for a couple of awkward seconds before he spoke again.

  “I’ve heard through the office grapevine that this Friday a couple of people from the office are going to Blu after work.”

  “Blu?” I asked.

  “The bar in the lobby. It’s on the other side of the elevator banks.” He pointed. “I wasn’t planning on going but if you were I might reconsider.”

  “Really?” I folded my arms across my chest. There was nothing I would have liked more than to agree to go, but the snakes in my stomach reminded me of my past. I wasn’t ready to explain myself.

  “It might be fun.” He looked at my face.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said. “But you know what they say about mixing business and pleasure.”

  “You’re right,” James agreed. “Let’s get this established right now. If you decide to go, I’m setting my boundaries. This is off-limits.” He drew a circle around his whole torso with his finger. “No means no. So don’t fall in love with me.”

  I burst out laughing.

  “That’s easy enough,” I scoffed as I pushed past James to the revolving door and walked inside the building. I could feel his eyes watching me but I didn’t turn around. Nice though he seemed, I had the feeling he was used to girls giving him whatever he wanted. And I was used to denying guys exactly that, so it would never work out. If anything, it would make for a horribly uncomfortable work environment if I suddenly gave in.

  I’d held on to my innocence in a world that was anything but. Yes, I had been a stripper. Yes, I’d taken off my clothes for money. But I’d never given up the goods to any man.

  “You’ll double what you make in tips,” the other girls would tell me. “It’s not so bad. If you get a couple regulars it makes collecting rent that much easier.”

  “I can’t.” I would tell them a sob story about being abused or having an STD that prevented me from going all the way with anyone. Surprisingly, the women I danced with were trustworthy. They never repeated what I told them, and I returned the courtesy.

  Yeah, I did a few lap dances. But I never committed the a
ctual act. I was a virgin. And now that I was working an honest job I planned to keep it that way.

  ***

  My first week at ABF went fine. People were friendly, even though something seemed to have shifted almost immediately after my first day, so was sure that Larry Potter had said something. The women in the cubicles around me were pleasant, but as soon as I turned my back they were whispering, and the smiles they gave me as I walked past were definitely strained.

  So, I didn’t attend the Friday night drinks at Blu in the lobby. In fact, I bowed out the following week and the week after that. I was completely happy to spend my weekends at home. Eventually though, Etta changed my mind.

  “You aren’t going this Friday?” she asked one Thursday afternoon, as I was finishing up a spreadsheet.

  “I don’t think so,” I answered.

  “I wish you’d reconsider. How do you expect anyone to get to know you? You have to give them a chance, Candace, before you expect them to give you one.”

  She was right. I could judge all of them just as easily as they judged me. It was easy to sit back and say they don’t like me because of my looks and/or possible reputation. But it was a lot riskier to get to know them and find out that maybe they just didn’t like me because I was … me. So I decided to go out with the group the next day, forgoing my plans for a comfortable evening curled up on the couch with a book and a nice red.

  Up until that time, I had only seen Potter a handful of times. He’d apparently been away on vacation and I had hopes that he’d forgotten about me. And when Ruth told me the upper management never joined the secretaries on their nights out, I was doubly relieved.

  “They’d never slum it like that,” she said, thumbing through some files on her desk, three down from mine around the corner. “Plus, how would anyone relax if the bosses were all there?”

  I nodded. “So, do you all go down together or do people just trickle in as they finish work?”

  “People just come when they’re done.” She still didn’t look at my face. “We always take up the back four tables and two booths. It’s right by the jukebox and the bar. Is your boyfriend coming?”

  Finally, she looked up at me. I guess she thought she was really subtle.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  She had no reaction to my reply other than, “Yeah, so just come down at five. We’ll be there.”

  Surprisingly, I found myself really looking forward to Friday. When it finally arrived, I chose a pair of nice slacks and a jade-colored blouse, not too daring, no plunging neckline. I wore my hair up in a bun, but by the time five rolled around, several wispy tendrils had fallen along my face. I didn’t want to be the first one at the bar, so I stayed behind to finish up a few random tasks and finally shut off my computer at five thirty.

  When I walked into Blu and went to the back where the bar and the jukebox were, I saw Ruth chatting with a bartender. Another girl from our department was at the jukebox with a few more familiar faces, putting a collection of dollar bills into the machine. There were four tables pushed together to make one long table that was loaded with pitchers of beer, plates of greasy appetizers, glasses of water, and random shot glasses, already empty.

  Patty, the receptionist, waved to me first. “Candace! Come here, girl!”

  Bashfully, I walked over. There was a guy from the mailroom sitting in the seat next to her.

  “Get up,” she ordered.

  “What?”

  “Get up, Luke. There’s a lady who needs a seat.”

  “What are you, my mother?”

  “You’d be doing better than the mailroom if I were. Now, get up.”

  “Here you go, Candace.” Luke got to his feet grudgingly and didn’t give me so much as a look.

  “Go get me another black and tan,” Patty ordered. She smiled at me. “I was looking for a way to get that kid away from me.”

  “Why?” I asked as I took a seat.

  “He’s the biggest mooch. It’s payday today. I guarantee he’ll be broke by seven o’clock. What would you like to drink?”

  “I think I’ll just start with a Coke.”

  “Fine.” She winked. “David!” she yelled at another guy who was standing on the other side of the table talking with Amy. I remembered her name because her supervisor called it about ten times a day.

  “What?” David snapped, starting in our direction.

  “Go get Candace a Coke.”

  “You don’t have to,” I spoke up. “I can get it.”

  “No, relax,” David replied as Amy walked away. “I’ll get it.”

  “Let them do it,” Patty insisted. “I haven’t seen this big a turnout for drinks ever. You can take the credit for that, honey.”

  “You’re crazy.” I nudged Patty with my elbow.

  “It’s true. They all want to see what the supermodel in the office is like outside the office.” Patty downed the last of her black and tan. “Don’t take offense. Just let the fellows buy the drinks and watch them trip all over each other trying to talk to you. That’s what I’m doing.”

  She let out a cackle.

  “I don’t want people to trip over themselves for me,” I protested.

  “I believe that,” Patty replied with a shrug. “But what you want and what they want are two completely different things.”

  As she spoke, the door opened and there was a brief hush as the three VPs walked in, Potter included.

  “I thought you said the bosses never come to this,” I pointed out as they took up seats just a little off to the right of the back table and ordered pitchers and appetizers.

  Slowly, the room resumed talking.

  “It’s because you’re here,” she informed me.

  “I really wish I had the superpowers you seem to think I have,” I argued.

  Patty patted my shoulder. “I’ve been at ABF for over a decade. You show up and all of a sudden the bosses are digging in their pockets, showing up at the building bar. You’d have to be blind not to see it.” Then, she turned her attention to filling me in on all the juicy office gossip. Thankfully, I didn’t feature in it at all.

  When the evening was in full swing, I decided to do a shot, against my better judgment. I was not a shot drinker, but a round had been sent over. Patty and I clinked our glasses and down it went. Then another. And then another, until I was warm and tingly all over.

  Okay. Maybe not a great idea …

  “You okay, Candace?” Patty asked. She was as sober as a cemetery even after her multiple beers and shots.

  “Yeah,” I muttered. “I didn’t really eat anything. I should really put something in my stomach.”

  “Would you like an order of fries or something? We’ll add it to the tab.”

  “I’m going to use the ladies’ room first.” I pushed myself away from the table and began my wobbly walk. Once inside, I glanced in the mirror at my flushed appearance. The sound of some song played too much on the radio pulsed through the walls, making my head ache. I took a couple of deep breaths, splashed my face with cold water, and decided I wanted a juicy cheeseburger from the joint by my apartment.

  Time to go home.

  I took two steps back out of the bathroom before Larry Potter appeared out of nowhere.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi.” I smiled briefly and tried to hurry past but he stepped in my way. I wobbled backward and gasped. It was like I’d walked into a spider web.

  “Whoa. Had a little too much to drink?”

  “No,” I lied.

  “Well, how about you come and join me for a drink, then? Name your poison.”

  “No, thank you. I’m getting ready to leave.”

  “Leave?” He looked at his watch. “It’s not even eight o’clock yet.”

  “It feels later than that.” I tried to take a step but he quickly got in front of me again.

  “Wait. Maybe I’m just going about this the wrong way.” I could smell the alcohol on his breath. “I’d just like to get to know
you better. That’s all. Is that so bad?”

  I looked at him like he was speaking pig-Latin.

  “I think I might have come across like a real jerk before.” Even as he said that, his eyes fell on my breasts. “I’m used to talking business and dollars and negotiations and contracts. Sometimes I forget how to talk to people. Things come out wrong.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I really have to get going now.”

  Potter gave me a greasy grin. “Why don’t you let me call you a cab?”

  I shook my head.

  “Maybe we could have one dance together.”

  “No one is dancing,” I pointed out.

  “So start the party. You’re used to places where you can dance, aren’t you?”

  So. Not my imagination after all.

  I didn’t say anything, determined to make him think he had the wrong woman and was just making a fool of himself.

  “You don’t have to worry, Candace,” he stage-whispered. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “But I don’t think it’s unfair to ask for something in return. Like I said, I’m used to business. Negotiating.” He drew a little closer, sending a chill down my skin.

  Just as I was about to say something I might lose my job for, I heard a familiar voice, accompanied by an incredibly handsome, familiar face.

  “Candace? Are you ready to go?”

  Chapter Six

  James

  “Hello, Larry,” I said innocently.

  “Hi, James,” he answered through clenched teeth, obviously thrilled that I’d interrupted his stalking yet again.

  “You guys usually don’t come out with the riff-raff on Fridays. What’s the occasion?”

  Not giving a chance to come up with a lie, I grabbed Candace by the hand and gently led her past Potter.

  “I saw what was going on and would have come over sooner,” I explained to her. “But Sean had an emergency with his mouth.”

 

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