Taming Mr. Flirt

by A. m Madden

  “What if you’re about to hit a rooster in the road? I can’t yell, ‘look out for that cock!’ so you don’t run it over?”

  “Rooster. Just call it a rooster.”

  “Fine and when did you become such an altar boy?” Luca pulled back onto the road.

  “You want to tell me about tits and ass, I’ll listen. Cock talk you can keep to yourself.”

  “Can I talk about her magical pussy? She does this thing where…”

  “Do I need to pull over again?”

  Chapter 3

  Vanessa

  “Miss Monroe!” His annoying, nasally voice screeched from behind his closed door. The sound of it had me wanting to stab him in the heart with my letter opener. Actually, a letter opener to the heart would be too compassionate.

  I hated that man more than anything.

  Scratch that, I hated my job more. When put together, that was a lot of anger boiling within me. Every day, since day two, I’ve plotted ways to kill him without getting arrested. It had become somewhat of a game for me.

  I tried looking for another job, but the actual job wasn’t the problem. I’d only end up replacing this idiot with another out there convinced it was his responsibility to better humankind through his pathetic career choice. My real problem, I wasn’t qualified for a job that would make me happy. My other real problem, I wasn’t meant to work in an office. Unfortunately, my liberal arts degree hadn’t given me the opportunity to travel the world.

  Looking back, I was dumb—end of story. When I lost the love of my life, I spent the rest of my college years numbing myself. That involved taking the easiest courses I could while keeping my GPA within a respectable range. I was somewhat of a dreamer, and that was exactly what I did most of the time. Before I knew it, I had my degree in my hand and had no clue where to go next.

  Stupid.

  I dutifully grabbed my notepad and dragged my ass to his office. “Yes, sir?” I asked after opening the door with no enthusiasm.

  “Did you book my flight and hotel?” he barked without looking away from his computer screen.

  “Yes, sir.” I waited a pause, because he usually ordered me to fetch him some coffee or a donut from the snack room.

  “That’s all,” came with a dismissed wave of his hand… no thank you, no pleasantries, no smile. I closed his door behind me, and in a very mature manner stuck my tongue out at him knowing damn well he couldn’t see me. Fuckhead.

  The last thing I wanted to do on this Monday morning was book a flight to Paris for Mr. Boyd. I should have been booking a flight to Paris for myself. All I’ve ever wanted when I was a little girl was to travel around the world and live, truly live life to the fullest. Financially, I wasn’t able to do that, not yet. At least I lived my life to the fullest while off the admin-clock. Weekends were my salvation.

  Why couldn’t there be a contest I could enter, like Brae did, to win money—less the man, of course? The day she told us she had signed up for some dating game of sorts, for a cash prize, I was intrigued. Even more so when the man she had to spend six weeks with on a tropical island could be described as sex on legs. Sure, they had to do without Internet or cell phones, but damn who needed that when you had a fine specimen like Jude Soren to “play” with?

  Believe me, I was so very ecstatic for my friend. If anyone deserved happiness it was Brae. Married to that hottie and no longer having financial issues to worry about made my heart smile for her.

  But, I wasn’t looking for the happily ever after with a man… I wanted a happily ever after with myself. What would it be like to relax without having to worry about making appointments, booking flights, and kissing a suit wearing ass… the latter of which I did every fucking day of my life?

  Mr. Boyd flew first class and stayed at the best hotels all on the company’s dime. After I booked his suite with a view of the Eiffel Tower, my anger rose to the point where if I didn’t talk to my girls, I’d quit my job, and that wasn’t an option.

  Once I had the confirmation numbers for his trip, I tapped out a text.

  Me: Happy Hour? I need drinks.

  Cassie: It’s not even 10.

  Desiree: Are you okay?

  Shit. It’s only ten?

  Me: I’m fine. Drinks, yes or no?

  Desiree: I can’t, I have a late meeting.

  Cassie: Dispatch at 5:30?

  Me: See you there.

  At least I had that to look forward to. I needed to endure seven more hours of work before I could breathe. Nothing had changed from when I first started working for Mr. Boyd, who I promptly nicknamed Boyd-Who-Annoyed. His title, Executive VP of Commerce, went straight to his big, fat, bald head. I’d say it looked like a penis, but that wouldn’t be fair to my favorite part of the male body.

  My thumb clicked the top of my pen at rapid speed while the clock moved at a snail’s pace. What in the hell was I doing with my life? The obvious answer was—marriage, kids, yada, yada, yada, and none of which were in the cards for me.

  Being a witness at Brae and Jude’s wedding did nothing to make my heart crave the same thing. However, in just two days Kyle Cleary did manage to make my body crave something. That man was talented. Between his ability to sniff out the type of perfume I wore, which for some reason turned me on like no tomorrow, to the orgasms that wracked every part of me, I should have been in a better mood. Maybe, I would be, if I were listening to the carnal pleasures of a man rather than orders being barked at me.

  “Miss Monroe! Get in here!”

  Motherfucker.

  My eyes cut to the stapler sitting on my desk. Nah, that wouldn’t be enough to kill him.

  The streets were flooded with people escaping the confines of their offices. Most were probably headed home. All I wanted was to hang out with my friend and a very large margarita.

  While I waited for Cassie, I scoped out the place. Even for a Monday night, happy hour still thrived. Businessmen and women occupied the small tables and stools in front of the bar. A few handsome faces looked familiar. One of them caught my eye and smiled with a wink. Hmm, I thought, and quickly dismissed the idea because I wasn’t there to score a man; I was there for a reality check and to unwind.

  Cassie slid into the booth, shrugged off her jacket, and smiled. “So, why are we drinking on a Monday night?” Her smile alone brightened up my mood. I loved my friend.

  “Does it matter what day it is?” She shook her head. “That’s what I thought. My day was horrible and I wanted to chill out before going home.”

  Her eyes studied me. “Nope, not buying it. You sent a text at ten in the morning. There must be more to it than just chilling out. What happened?”

  “Life happened. Well, it’s not happening and that’s the problem.”

  “You lost me.” Cassie’s eyes softened. “Is it Kyle?”

  I could feel lines on the bridge of my nose form as I crinkled my face. “No, it isn’t Kyle. Why would you even think that?”

  We flagged the waitress down so Cassie could order a dry martini. “Well, I just thought because of your sexcapades this weekend, maybe you…” She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know what I thought.”

  “It’s not Kyle. It’s not any man. Well, that’s not entirely true. My boss is a pain in my ass, and I want to murder him.”

  “This isn’t a newsflash. Please don’t go to jail. I can’t deal with the stress that would come from visiting you in the pen.”

  I took a healthy sip of my drink. The tart liquid did nothing to ease my frustration. “I can’t make any promises. I just hate my job so damn much. All I want is to live my life the way I want to live it. I need to start playing the lottery.”

  “Don’t you have vacation time?”

  “Two weeks is not enough time.”

  “Then take a leave of absence. Does your company allow that? Call it a mental health break. I’m sure you can get a note from your doctor. You’re friends with him, right?”

  Her idea wasn’t completely far-fetched, b
ut just because I may or may not have gone out on a date with Dr. Nichols, didn’t mean he’d do that for me. “Maybe. I suppose I could look into it. Still, that would also be a temporary fix. Eventually, I’d need to return to that god awful place I work at.” If I could slam my head on the wood table in front of me without bruising myself, I would have.

  “Look, V, you are a smart, beautiful woman. If you want to take a life break, then do it.” Just as I opened my mouth, her hand went up to stop me. “Yes, I know you’re worried about money, but you don’t need to do anything drastic. Start out small, go to Florida or Los Angeles. Hell, you can go to a spa on Long Island and it would feel like a vacation. Any place away from work and the city is an escape.”

  Cassie was right, I knew what she said made sense, but I wanted more. That wasn’t living. It was putting on a Band-Aid. “I want to experience the top of the Eiffel Tower, put on a beret and dance in the streets of France. I want to see Italy and have lunch at a street side cafe in Rome, or maybe have wine in Tuscany. I want to salute the guards in front of a palace in London, swim with sharks in Australia—these are the things I want to do. Yes, your suggestions sound great, but it’s not enough.” I wasn’t frivolous. I did have a savings account, but it wouldn’t last a year with all the places I wanted to see.

  “Sharks?”

  “Okay, dolphins. The point is I’m wasting my life.” If I didn’t know my own age, I’d think I was in the middle of a midlife crisis. Sad eyes stared back at me. It was time to change the topic. “Tell me about your day, it had to be better than mine,” I said with a bright smile.

  My sweet friend smiled back. “My kids are starting to settle into a school day routine after summer break.” Cassie went on to tell me about her kindergarten class’s antics. The smile on her face grew with each tale, while some of them horrified me. Yet, I knew my friend loved her job, and that part I envied.

  “I have a little boy named Mikey, who I have to admit has become my favorite. He’s so sweet, V.” Tears suddenly shimmered in her eyes.

  I reached out and held her hand. “Cass, what’s wrong?”

  “Ugh,” she said, waving her other hand in frustration. “Every time I think about it, I get upset. He lost his dad last year. I had a conference with his mom, Sabrina. She wanted to let me know just in case Mikey had a hard time adjusting to a classroom setting. The thing, V, he’s so eager to learn. Even at his age, his little brain is trying to deflect the sadness he feels by making new friends, talking about what he’s going to be for Halloween, and everything a child who hasn’t experienced a devastating loss does.”

  My heart ached for this family. Losing people sucked, and moving on without them was worse. “That poor little boy. How’s his mother? I can’t imagine raising a little human let alone doing it on my own.”

  “From what I can tell, having just met her, she’s doing okay.” Cassie frowned. “Her husband was in the military so the possibility of him not returning was always present. Except, he died in a car accident.” Tears swelled and an involuntary gasp escaped as Cassie looked at me with confusion. I think I could count on one hand how many times my friends saw me cry.

  Predictably, Cassie reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “What is it, V? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

  I had never uttered the words that were clawing their way to the surface. My friend sat patiently waiting for me to explain my A-typical behavior, but I couldn’t go down that road today, so instead I said, “Their lives changed on the turn of a dime and it’s just so unfair. How does this poor woman cope?”

  “Maybe being a military wife for so many years had prepared her for the possibility that something could happen. There’s definitely sadness in her eyes, but when she speaks of Mikey she’s strong. I’m sure that’s because her little boy needs her. She’s all he has left.”

  The tears we held back ran down both our faces. “I’m sorry, I made this night worse. Here you wanted to escape and we’re sitting here crying. Some friend I am.” Cassie handed me a tissue. “I suck.”

  We both laughed through our tears. “No, you don’t suck. But, you did prove that your job is rewarding while mine sucks hairy balls. Mikey does have someone else. He has you. In my opinion, he’s a very lucky kid. Can you imagine if he had me?”

  She tsk’d in disagreement. “He’d be just as lucky.”

  I cradled my head in my hands. My fingers gave a quick rub to my temples before returning my attention to Cassie. “Your story about Mikey once again proves my point. I could die tomorrow without having seen even one of the Seven Wonders. I’ll just wonder what they were like.”

  “You do know the Eiffel Tower isn’t in that classification, right?” she teased. When I gave her a blank stare, she continued. “Here’s my opinion, if you don’t want to ask for a leave of absence, find another job. And before you say it, I know you’ve tried before, but maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for this time. Why stay in a job that makes you miserable? You do realize we spend more time at our place of employment than we do out of it.”

  “Yes, I do realize that. Hence my mood.”

  “What about Jude? Maybe he has a position for you at Soren Enterprises.”

  “The only way I could work for him was if it were in Paris, and even then I’d probably be fired because I’d be calling in sick every other day. I’ll come up with something.” I lifted my glass toward her and she followed my lead. “To hitting the lottery.”

  “To hitting the lottery,” she repeated before tapping her martini against my margarita. “And if not, to you finding the job of your dreams.”

  “Always the practical one,” I said while wondering if my friends would approve of me becoming a high-class, traveling escort.

  Chapter 4

  Kyle

  Top note of bergamot orange followed by middle note of grapefruit with a bottom note of vanilla.

  The liquid swirled around the beaker when I mingled the fragrance notes with a glass stirring rod. I brought the mixture to my nose and inhaled. It missed something, but I couldn’t figure out what. With swift movements, my fingers tapped over the keyboard of my laptop as I meticulously wrote every metric measurement down.

  Frederick, my senior lab assistant, opened my door forcing me to break concentration. “Sorry to barge in, but I knocked three times. Where did you drift off to? The fields of Ireland… the beaches in Tahiti?”

  “Bali.” The new line of fragrances were each modeled after a romantic destination, designed to transport the customer from their everyday life. “I’m just trying to nail down this fragrance, but all I keep thinking of is that sickly sweet creamsicle ice cream bar I loved as a kid.”

  “Did you try cutting it with cardamom?” I shook my head, and Frederick knew not to question further. When I was in my lab, my staff let me work my mad scientist skills without influence. Of all the divisions in Cleary Laboratories, fragrance creation was my baby. I delegated well when it came to cosmetics, hair products, and even men’s fragrances. But anything to do with a woman’s scent was all me. At my silence, he added, “Okay, boss, I’m calling it a night. You should, too.”

  My first instinct was to say that I had a few more hours, but for some reason today I wasn’t able to focus on something that usually came as easy as tying my shoes. Instead, my brain was recounting the events of the past weekend.

  “I’m right behind you. See you in the morning.”

  I closed up my lab, shutting lights along the way, and locking up. The moment I sat my distracted ass in my Model S Tesla, boredom hit. Unless I was at work, entertaining a woman, or hanging out with my friends, most of the time I felt antsy. I was the type of person who needed activity at all times. After such a busy weekend, I should have welcomed the opportunity to chill out and relax. Yet, the week stretched ahead in a looming way.

  The drive home from Queens to the Upper East Side with not much traffic only took fifteen minutes. I parked my car, grabbed my tux from my backseat, and walked
to the cleaners on the corner.

  Metallic bells sounded when I strolled in. Natasha, the woman behind the counter smiled. “Hi, Kyle.”

  “Hey, Natasha. How’s the dirtiest beauty in the cleaning business?” Her Eastern European features gifted her with striking bone structure and a long lithe body. Her flaxen straight-angled bob currently sported a fuchsia streak that framed the right side of her face.

  The sweetest smile crinkled the corners of her ice blue eyes. “That’s not fair. I only did that once in my life, and that was with you. Having sex in my family’s place of business never occurred to me before you came along. Not that I’m complaining because it was fun.”

  “It sure was, although I’m lucky to still have my balls after your dad stopped in on his day off. And I’m still thanking the gods I didn’t burn off anything important on that long iron thing.”

  “It’s called a pant press,” she corrected.

  “Whatever. It still could have permanently branded my ass.” A few months ago, Natasha and I were having a great time on the back counter when her father, who owned the cleaners, walked in on us. Needless to say, when we heard the linebacker-built man mumbling in Russian at the front of the store, it was that day I found out I’d make a great firefighter. The way I jumped off of her and into my clothes was quite an accomplishment. I smiled at my agility, then frowned at how close I came to death.

  Natasha giggled at the look on my face. “When he said…” She puffed up her chest and deepened her voice three octaves to imitate the grizzly bear that was her father. “‘What you doing back here?’ That was hilarious.” Then mimicking her father’s actions, she thrusted her blue painted, manicured finger toward the door. “Out!”

  “Yeah, haha. So, funny.” I dumped the suit on the counter, and Natasha robotically began to check my pockets.