When I got home, Danny was standing in the kitchen and the apartment smelled amazing! Danny was always cooking, which worked out fine for me, because I didn’t cook. At all. I was terrible at it. My idea of cooking was peeling back the film and stirring in between microwave rotations, or take out.
“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” I shouted from the entryway while removing my shoes, hanging my jacket on the peg inside the door, and dropping my keys into the teal bowl that sat on our entryway table.
“Homemade spaghetti and meatballs. I figured, with your first day, you would be drained and the carbs would put you into a food coma. Whatcha got there?” he said, pointing at the bag as he rounded the corner.
“Brandy,” I stated plainly. I already knew what Danny would say to that.
“That bad of a day?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “I haven’t seen you drink brandy in quite a while… Is everything ok?”
“My day was fine, Danny, don’t trip. Mr. Yo-Yo was exactly that and he gave me a crazy head change every time he spoke, but it was a good day overall. Besides, I may have found you a hunny!” I smirked at him, knowing he wasn’t going to like where this conversation was headed.
“Oh, really?! Do Tell!” Sarcasm dripped from his mouth, making me smile harder.
“Well, his name is Jerry, he’s 30, and he’s adorable. Blonde hair, tall, killer bod, and he loves Mexican food,” I gushed, ignoring the cynicism in his voice.
“Does he also enjoy long walks on the beach and candlelit dinners? Jeez, Charlotte, you know how much I hate set-ups.” He seemed to be half kidding and half not.
I figured changing the subject was a good idea. I didn’t want to push Danny too far. If I did, I could never convince him to meet Jerry. Danny could be quite stubborn when he wanted to be. Once I got a good photo of Jerry I knew Danny would beg me for his info. So I’d be patient, for now. “When’s dinner? I’m starved!”
Danny and I sat cross legged on the floor in front of our coffee table, each with a large helping of spaghetti and high ball glass of brandy. We decided against some dumb reality show and opted for good old fashioned conversation. I wasn’t too keen on the idea because I knew Danny would grill me on my first day with my new boss, but if I didn’t dish now, he’d bug me all night. Besides, maybe I could throw in some tidbits about Jerry while I was at it.
“Well, to start, I was like two minutes late, and I could swear he was going to fire me after his gaze burned me to a crisp and he ate me for breakfast. Then, he dismissed me like it was nothing and it was just a normal conversation we had just had. I got to hang out with the lovely Jerry and he took me out to lunch.” I emphasized the word Jerry and didn’t miss it when Danny smirked at me. “Then, he asked me for some coffee and…” I couldn’t figure out what to say, so I just went with, “That was it.” But Danny never missed anything, and, once again, I felt my face flush.
“That was it? Somehow I don’t believe you. Come on, Baby Girl. Don’t make me pry it out of you. You know I will.” he said, jabbing me in the shoulder and simultaneously sipping his brandy.
Danny wasn’t letting this go. I didn’t figure he would. Once he had his mind set to something it took nothing short of death for him to see it through. He was the inquisition master and I was hopeless to avoid him. On a sigh, I told him all about my mood changing boss.
“I’ve said it before Danny, he is intense. When I brought him his coffee, he was cool, aloof. And then, well, you know me. I started daydreaming….about him… and it’s like he was in my head. I’d think something, probably blush, and then he was all over me– not physically.” responding immediately to the panicked look in Danny’s eyes, I continued, “Mentally, he mind fucked me Danny!”
It took a while for him to ponder what I said. He slowly tipped back the last bit of his brandy and licked his lips. Glanced at me, and then away. Danny had this adorable habit of tapping the tip of his nose with his pointer finger. It would normally make me smile. Tonight, it was irritating me. Talk, damn you!! I willed him with my eyes.
“Well, baby girl, I think I’ve got it. Mr. Porter is in love you!” he said, the Cheshire Cat grin taking over his face.
“WHAT?!” I spat my brandy all over him. I immediately started choking, staring wide eyed at Danny as he just laughed and laughed over my outburst. When I’d finally contained myself, I grabbed a napkin to start wiping away the mess I had made, including Danny’s shirt. “Why do I even talk to you, Danny?!” I grumbled with a sigh, reaching for my purse to grab my Tide pen.
Still chuckling, Danny looked up and stared into my eyes, “He’d be a fool not to love everything about you, but, I was just kidding. I didn’t expect you to spit your drink everywhere. I apologize.” he said, bowing gracefully with his nose almost touching the floor in his over exaggerated ways. Once he sat back up, he continued, “In all seriousness, Charlie, are you going to be able to handle a man like that? He sounds way out of your league.”
“Out of my league? I work for him, I’m not trying to screw him!” I was definitely getting irritated. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you, Danny. You misconstrue everything. He’s intense, that’s all. I’ll deal. Thanks for dinner. I’m going to hop in the shower.” I stood up, took my plate to the sink for a quick rinse and popped it into the dishwasher. I snuck a quick glance at Danny on the way to my room and he had his head down, still chuckling to himself. It flared my temper once again, so I marched straight into my room and slammed the door.
I cranked the heat on the knob and stripped down, leaving my clothes in a pile by the door. When I stepped into the welcoming warmth, I desperately hoped the hot water would slow my pulsating blood. God, I never got angry, and definitely not with Danny. But he had caught me off guard with the “love” statement. When my muscles began to ease a bit, I reached down and grabbed my shampoo, working my hair into a lather before rinsing it and applying my favorite conditioner. The smell always calmed me. A quick shave and a scrub down and I shut the water off and reached out to grab my towel.
It was thrust into my hand and I knew Danny had come in to either laugh at me or apologize. I had just started relaxing, so I hoped he had come in for the latter. I may have been relaxing, but I was still angry, and I would have no problem putting my best friend in his place. Thrusting open the curtain with my towel around my body, I looked into his eyes. They seemed apologetic, but I wouldn’t back down until he said the actual words I needed to hear.
“Listen, Charlie, I’m sorry. I was just kidding around with you, baby girl. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so affected by a man before. My choice of words was poor. Please forgive me?” He looked up with those puppy dog eyes he knew I loved so much, eyes I never could say no to. God, I really did love him.
I launched myself at him for our traditional best friend hug. No one gave hugs like Danny. He was and would always be my best friend. I could never imagine my life without him in it, and I would always be grateful for his friendship. He saved me more times than anyone else in my life.
Danny laughed as he caught me and swung me around a bit, or as much as he could in my bathroom before dropping me on the floor. “I love you, girl, you know that.” And I did know that, as much as I loved him.
“I do Danny, and I love you too. No more fighting ok? And no more discussing a certain daydreaming hating boss!” I laughed at him, feeling my anger melt away.
“Deal! Let’s go eat some ice cream!” he said, trying to grab my hand and drag me out of the bathroom while my other arm tried desperately to keep the towel closed.
Snatching my hand back, I jokingly scolded him, “Get out of my bathroom, and I’ll get dressed!”
Danny’s eyebrows rose and he gave me that look, like, ‘I know what’s under the towel and it doesn’t do anything for me’, but I knew how much he didn’t like seeing naked women. It wasn’t that he was repulsed or anything by it, he just didn’t like it. I narrowed my eyes and reached for my towel to throw it off, knowing that would get him out
of my room.
Danny’s eyes widened in humor and mock horror, and he swiveled around, bolting for the door and slamming it on his way out. I giggled to myself, readjusted my towel, and headed for the bedroom, picking up my discarded work clothes along the way to throw into my hamper. I was sorely limited on funds for business clothes, so I knew I was going to be doing laundry often.
Pulling on my favorite pajama shorts and a tank top, I took a moment to towel dry my damp hair. I have natural red hair, down to my waist with a slight wave to it. It has a life of its’ own, and I have to take extra special care to condition it, and towel dry it. Most days when I wake up it’s unmanageable, and it goes up into a bun.
I ran a brush through it, admiring myself in the mirror. I wasn’t skinny, but I wasn’t fat either. Danny always said that I had curves in all the right places. My stomach was flat and I had a decent set of breasts, nothing too large or too small. I’d never really taken that much stock into my appearance and I knew that starting tomorrow, I would try a little harder. I tried to convince myself it was for work, but deep down I knew, it was for Alex Porter.
I put down my brush and jaunted back into the living room. Danny was headed to the freezer for the ice cream. I went to the couch and curled up on my side when he came over and handed me my pint and a spoon. Neither of us cared that eating out of the carton was rude as hell. It was just us and neither of us liked doing extra dishes.
We fell back into a normal conversation about his day. Danny’s a male model. Most recently you might have seen his smoldering eyes and tighty whiteys splayed across the side of a bus running through Los Angeles. Danny told me about his shoot this morning after I had left. It was for a watch ad that required him to be pampered, styled, and dressed in sexy gray and black suit. He lived for the attention, and I couldn’t fault him for it. He really was gorgeous.
The cool thing about having a smoking hot roommate, who did ads for nationally known companies, was the swag that came from it. Today, he received the watch he modelled and a matching ladies watch, which he ran to his room to get and present to me. It was a beautiful piece, with a black background and small diamond studs around the face on each number. The band was thin leather and I instantly loved it. It would go well with all of my work attire.
Around 11:30, I decided it was well past time for me to hit the hay. I gave Danny a peck on the cheek and headed towards my room. I hoped tonight I would get more sleep than I had the past few nights, but I wasn’t counting on it. My nightmares were evolving. Not just my sordid history haunted me, but, the last few nights, a pair of liquid amber eyes invaded my sleep, making me feel emotions I’d never had before. Not only was this man ruining my days, he was a constant reminder during my time of slumber.
I really needed to get a grip. He was just a man. That’s all. Just a pushy, arrogant, sexy as hell man. I let out a sigh, grabbed my toothbrush, and squirted some blue gel onto it. Attempting to push him out of my mind, I thought about my outfit for tomorrow. I mentally picked out my black pencil skirt and my red sleeveless blouse. It would look well matched together, especially with my new watch, and since I’m such a stereotypical girl when it comes to shoes, my red stilettos would give me a professional look, while still feeling young and cute.
Feeling better already, I rinsed my mouth and climbed into bed. Snuggling into my comforter, I closed my eyes and replayed the day in my head. Tomorrow would be better. I was sure of it. This was a great job and I was lucky to have it. I would guarantee tomorrow would be better. And, with that thought, I dozed off into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
Chapter 5
I walked off of the elevator at 7:40am with my head held high, wearing my mentally chosen outfit from last night and my red pumps. I’d left my hair down because it had actually cooperated with me, flowing over my shoulders and down to my waist in a mass of shimmering curls. I felt good. My sleep had not been interrupted all night and I had awoken refreshed and ready to face the day. I set my alarm 30 minutes early and gave myself more than enough time to get to work with no incident. I had no intentions of starting my day, like I had yesterday, ever again.
Walking over to the intercom, I buzzed Mr. Porter, but received no reply. I guess I’d beaten him in. Hopefully he wasn’t too late. I didn’t want his Starbucks to get cold. That would be a great way to ruin my perfect mood. Turning on the computer, I waited for it to boot up, taking a look around the large reception waiting area. Because of the events of yesterday, I hadn’t really had the time to take in my surroundings.
I spotted at least six cameras in the ceiling, all pointing at the receptionist desk. Either Mr. Porter was a crazy peeping Tom, or he had serious trust issues when it came to his hired employees. I hoped it was the latter. Honestly, you never really knew what someone might do when they thought no one was watching. I loved people watching on my down time. Most times I saw beauty in one form or the other. An elderly couple holding hands on their walk or a business woman bending down to deposit a dollar into the homeless man’s cup. But sometimes you saw things like people picking their nose or men adjusting their pants in the most obvious ways. I’ve seen a lot of wedgie picking in my day and the occasional armpit sniff. I prayed to the camera Gods that I hadn’t embarrassed myself yesterday before I discovered the intruding devices.
“I believe I’ve said I don’t pay you to daydream, Ms. Hightower,” he said, his smooth voice broke me of my trance. My gaze floated up his body until I reached his eyes. They looked amused? Technically, I could have told him it wasn’t quite 8am, and so I wasn’t on the company dime, but I wasn’t ready to push his buttons yet after only one day. I didn’t want to see the anger in those eyes ever again, but I knew, without a doubt, that that was wishful thinking on my part.
Not wanting to lose my good mood or possibly lose the amusement in his eyes, I mentally shook myself, and stood up, producing his coffee cup before him. “Good morning, Mr. Porter, here’s your coffee. You have a meeting with Mrs. Mansfield at 8:30, there is a stack of paperwork from HR on your desk that needs to be signed, and you received a voicemail from a ‘Rachel’, which is also on your desk. Is there anything else I can do or get for you?” I held a notebook and pen in my hands, ready to jot down any further instructions he might need to give me.
The tail end of my spiel came out in a near whisper. The look in his eyes screamed rage, and, if I wasn’t mistaken, lust. The entire time I spoke I watched him eye me up and down taking an especially long glance at my legs, and also my hair. I continued to watch him, gauging his next move. He grabbed the coffee from my hand, and, with a grunt, stormed into his office, leaving me feeling weak in the knees.
I sat my writing utensils down and flopped back down in my chair, completely flustered, my good mood crumbling. How did this man affect me so much? He’s just a man. I know I repeated that mantra last night, but it’s true. He’s just a man, and I needed to stop viewing him as anything but.
Determined to not let my mood diminish completely, I started sorting through Mr. Porter’s correspondence email. Yesterday, Jerry had shown me key things to look out for when organizing his email and marking them with the appropriate flag color. Red being important and needing immediate attention, orange being important but not as immediate, yellow was for appointment requests, and green was what I perceived to be junk mail. Anything I was unsure of was flagged blue, and Jerry would see to making sure it went into the correct bucket until I got the hang of things.
At 8:25, the elevator door dinged announcing an arrival, which I assumed was Sarah Mansfield. I plastered a genuine smile onto my face, stood up and prepared to meet her. When the doors opened, I was a little taken aback by the woman in the elevator. She was breathtakingly stunning. Commanding immediate attention was the platinum blond hair that fell straight down over her shoulders, not at all covering her very large and very visible cleavage. She beat me in that department by leaps and bounds. Her nude pumps gave way to her long legs and her black skin tight dress fell just abov
e the knee. The only thing seemingly out of place was the look on her face. She was sneering at me.
My smile faltered for only a moment before I walked around the desk and introduced myself. “Good Morning, my name is Charlotte Hightower, new personal assistant to Mr. Porter. Can I offer you a coffee or water?” I asked.
She looked at me like I had two heads, pushing past me, and walking straight into Mr. Porter’s office before I could buzz him to let him know of her arrival. What a rude bitch! I mused. Oh well, when you look like that I guess you can do whatever you want, though I hoped the lack of approval for her entrance didn’t land me in the doghouse again with Mr. Porter.
An emotion I didn’t want to name came to my chest at the thought of blondie doing “what she wanted” to my boss. I’d known the man three days, why did I feel so jealous? With a shake of my head to clear my thoughts, I turned back to my computer to focus on the work at hand. She was a client and I was his assistant. I was not his girlfriend, I had no rights to him, and I had no reason to have these feelings.
After about an hour, my intercom buzzed. “Ms. Hightower, please come in here,” came the soothing voice of my boss. I stood and walked into his office with my chin slightly up. I didn’t want either of them to know that blondie had affected me so much with her rude attitude or of the unwelcome thoughts of her spread out on his desk that came popping into my mind. I didn’t know where those images were coming from, but I didn’t like them and I wasn’t going to let them show.
“Can I help you, sir?” I questioned, proud of myself for sounding sure and confident when I felt anything but.
“Yes, I’d like my coffee and Ms. Mansfield will have—” breaking off to let her complete her order with me.
“An Americano with 2 extra shots, 2 sugars, no foam. If there is foam in that cup when you return, so help me, you’ll be out of a job and out on that ass of yours before the day is through!” she stated, malice coursing through every word. Her beauty was highly diminished when she spoke, making me internally smile and masking the shock of her overly aggressive words.
Just A Man (The Porter Trilogy Book 1) Page 4
