Sexy bubbles.
Bubbles that slowly stripped her out of her clothes.
No.
I’m interviewing her, not making porn.
I’ll picture Morgana at ease, which she should be. This wasn’t an interrogation, it was an interview. I may have been a cold, hard-nosed jerk to my coworkers and, sometimes, to my friends, but I could be nice to someone I had never met.
There was that old woman on the L train who pointed to the only seat available on the train car. I smiled and said thanks to her as I sat. I remember her eyes widened with surprise from my kind words.
Despite my best efforts to rein in my body’s reaction to hers, I couldn’t help but turn to notice Ms. Drake gritting her teeth. She must be aware I was molesting her with my mind.
“Are you all right, Ms. Drake?”
While I was unfamiliar with her usual coloring, I was pretty sure green was not her normal hue.
When I got up and walked over to her chair, I managed to catch her before she fell over.
She fainted.
I brought her to the leather couch along the side wall of my office and placed her down just as she woke.
“Cheesecake,” she said as her eyes darted around the room.
“You fainted, Ms. Drake. Perhaps we should reschedule the interview until you are feeling better?”
I grinned to reassure her.
“No!” Ms. Drake fisted my lapels, her searching eyes widened.
“It’s all right, Ms. Drake, I’ll just ask—”
I tried to get up from my knees, but she seized my arms and pulled me toward her.
“I’m fine, Mr. Payne. Fine, fine, finey, fine fine! There is no way I could have been finer.”
She bolted up from the couch causing me to tumble back into the cushions. Ms. Drake wobbled to the beige chair and sat staring at my empty seat on the other side of the desk.
She smiled.
It was wide.
Scary clown wide.
Okay.
I made my way back to my chair. As I sat, I noticed she was still grinning. My earlier arousal had melted into trepidation. That’s good. Problem solved. She’s crazy, so I won’t accidentally fuck her.
Once the interview commenced we both relaxed and her crazy clown smile seemed to slip from my memory. Ms. Drake made it easy to let go of the earlier incident with her candor. Her quick, engaging, and knowledgeable answers to my questions had me breaking out into a sweat.
I wanted a hardworking and intelligent assistant, and it seemed I was staring into the luscious chest, uh, I mean eyes of the perfect candidate.
I needed to pick someone else.
What else was there to do but end the interview?
I gathered the folder of all the candidate’s résumés from my desk and held it in front of me as I made my way toward the door. The folder acted as a shield to her and anyone I ran into in the hall of the bulge in my crotch.
Stopping just outside Human Resources, I flipped open the folder to peruse the other résumés.
Most of these were lackluster at best. I grumbled away the burning in my throat as the realization hit me. I couldn’t hire any of them.
“I am warning you that if you don’t choose an assistant soon, you will be getting Grace, the receptionist, for the foreseeable future. You know how she has been begging for this job.”
Bechmann’s words floated around my brain like a fly around dung.
Shit.
My head dropped, as I knew there could only be one solution. I took out my phone and quickly typed up my response before hitting send. Taking a deep breath, I made my way to Bechmann’s office.
“I need you to give this to Ms. Drake and tell her the interview has ended,” I explained to Bechmann as I signed the letter I sent to her printer.
“Wait. You just left her in there? She doesn’t even know it’s over?” Bechmann snatched the paper away from me and eyed it.
“Don’t start. Just give her the envelope and tell her I had some urgent business to attend to.”
I turned to leave and made my way back down the hall. Despite our mutual dislike for each other, I did respect Evaleen Bechmann. She was a hard worker, and I knew she would do as I instructed. She would explain this to Ms. Drake better than I ever could.
I’m not what most people call likable, some even fear me. If someone can’t put forth the effort for a job well done, then I really didn’t want to know them. I’m not about to sugarcoat things due to their delicate nature.
Perhaps if I got lucky, Morgana Drake might have been so repulsed by my behavior that she won’t even accept the job.
TWO
Payne’s Rule
Don’t live in the past. Reach for the future.
This was perfect. Tranquil.
Just me at my desk working on the projected sales figures for the upcoming year and nothing else.
I swiveled my black leather chair around so I could face the wall of windows behind my desk to peer out onto the glittering snow dusting Michigan Avenue below.
Then thoughts of a redhead with glasses popped into my head.
The interview from a few weeks ago, but especially, Ms. Drake, had been on my mind more than I would like. Even on the one day of the year where I can’t think of anything but my family, she crept into my head.
I came up with a plan to keep Ms. Drake away.
First, I had her work for a week in the mailroom with Carl “The Fart” Hackney. I hoped that would drive her away. It didn’t.
Mr. Shapiro, head of the Mail Department, raved about Morgana. Apparently, she gave The Fart some of her mom’s homemade applesauce cake. It cured his gas problems. He was no longer Carl “The Fart.” He’s just Carl now.
Then, I moved her to Accounting this week. I hoped that cutthroat department would be too much for her.
If that didn’t make her want to quit what do I do with Ms. Drake? I couldn’t send her to different departments forever.
Turning back to my desk upon hearing my phone vibrate, I grabbed it to see Tiffany’s number. One of my few friends in life.
This day was as hard on her as it was on me. After all, if it weren’t for my mistakes, this would be any other December day for us.
There were muffled cries when I answered the phone.
“Tiffany, what’s wrong?”
“It’s David.”
An icy chill crept up my limbs. “What about him?”
“They want to perform brain surgery on him. They think David is the perfect candidate for a new procedure.”
Tiffany’s words settled with a bang.
“Perhaps there’s another way. Why do they want to do it anyway?”
“He might walk. They also think it will improve his verbal function.”
“Maybe with enough physical therapy, and the shots they mentioned to help with the stiffness of his muscles—”
“I mentioned all that, Henrik. I don’t think there is any other way.”
She sounded tired. I was tired too.
“It’s his choice, Henrik. David told me he wants the procedure.” She said with a wobbly voice.
I couldn’t help but smile as I imagined David saying yes. He may not be able to say the word but he will make his opinion known.
“Okay, Tiffany, but I’m calling the doctors tomorrow. Do you want me to come over tonight?”
“Could you? David would love to see you. We could have a Coen Brothers movie marathon with pizza.”
“Sounds like a plan. I just need to make an appearance at the holiday party, and then I’ll stop by.”
She wished me a good night, and I ended the call.
After closing my computer, I headed up to the next floor where the party was in full swing.
As I gazed over the sea of people noticing the large conference table had been removed, I saw Jacob Mimir, President and founder of Mimir. His golden hair like a beacon in the crowd.
He waved me over. Ducking my head to avoid the low hanging string
s of holly tacked to the ceiling, I maneuvered past Mr. Shapiro belting out a very sad version of “All By Myself” at the karaoke machine.
“Henrik. How’s that new assistant you hired? I heard she cured Carl’s gas problems with her magic cake.”
Jacob’s eyes wrinkled in merriment before scratching at his whitening whiskers.
“Where is she? I would like to meet her.”
“I don’t know, Mr. Mimir.”
He crinkled his brow. “You’re my brother’s best friend and former college roommate. I have told you so many times, call me Jacob. Speaking of my brother, have you seen Edgar?”
“I suspect he’s in the coat closet with any number of females.”
Jacob rolled his eyes. “When will that boy grow up and settle down. I have a beautiful wife and two great daughters and I’m the happiest I have ever been. It’s like he just doesn’t want to be content. Every time I talk to him about it, he mentions…wait a second.”
Jacob turned to face me. “You don’t know where your assistant is? You told her about the holiday party, didn’t you?”
My jaw tensed as I ran my fingers through my hair.
“She was busy. I sent her to Accounting to get some figures.” I was only stretching the truth a bit. Since it was Thursday, I purposely left out the fact that I sent her to Accounting on Monday.
“Well, people around here seem to love her. I need some good news with this company right now.” Jacob grumbled the last part of his comment as he glanced away.
“Why? What’s wrong with the company?”
He sighed, his eyes darting to the side. “Nothing. Oh look, it’s Carol from IT, she might know where to find my brother. I’ll see you around, Henrik.”
I nodded, and as Jacob began to walk off, he stopped and abruptly turned. “Henrik, I know what day it is, and I just want you to know that Danni and I are here for you.”
His words and soft smile burst with concern but even the mention of today, what it meant, caused my heart to harden more.
I tried to swallow, but something got stuck. Funny, I haven’t had anything to eat. Perhaps it was a cyst. Maybe I should make an appointment with an Otolaryngologist.
“Thanks, Mr. Mimir—”
“It’s Jacob.”
“Yes, Jacob.”
“Good. I’m going to mingle. You should too. It’s a party, Henrik, have some food. Someone made punch, but I haven’t tried it yet.”
I nodded as he turned to disappear into the crowd.
Maybe it’s best if I went back to my office for a while before I head out to see Tiffany and David. No matter how much I want to run away from this night, I keep running into reminders. Being alone seemed like the best option for me.
No Ms. Drake. No talking about ten years ago. No pain.
I pivoted toward the door when my body smacked into something hard. All I could see was golden hair and glistening white teeth.
Edgar.
My best friend wrapped his arm around my shoulders as his lips curved. I heard the faint sound of women’s panties disintegrating in the distance.
Edgar had an aura of seduction and a halo of charm so bright sometimes women melted when he got too close. He was smooth with women where as I was kind of clunky when it came to understanding the female brain.
“Your brother was looking for you.”
I pointed into the crowd where Jacob was surrounded by people laughing heartily at one of his cheesy jokes.
“I’ll find him later. He’s in his element, entertaining. So, I met your new assistant. I’m surprised she’s still here.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean you are surprised she is still here?”
Edgar shrugged. “She seems nice, and you don’t mix well with nice. Your last five assistants quit within the first week.”
“Four.”
Edgar raised his eyes.
“The last four assistants. The one before them stayed longer.” I clarified.
“Oh yeah. Her name was Jaqueline. She quit after six days.”
My jaw ticked.
“Let’s not talk about my assistants. They are my concern, not yours.”
“I know, but I was hoping to see her tonight. Morgana, wasn’t it?”
My fists clenched as my eyes narrowed to a razor’s edge, daring Edgar to say more.
“Oh, Henrik. You have met your match.” He said with triumph in his gaze.
Was he challenging me? We had never gone after the same woman.
“Don’t you have enough women in your life, Edgar? Leave my assistant alone.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that, Henrik. Besides, red isn’t my favorite color, blue is.” He stared off at something on the other side of the room. I glanced over to see what he was looking at but only noticed Ken Brooks, who was speaking to the devil, Bechmann.
I was about to say something when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning, I gazed upon the last person I wanted to see tonight. Grace.
“Mr. Payne. I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas. I didn’t know if you celebrated the holiday, but I did get you a card.”
Behind a shaggy mop of black bangs that she brushed aside with her wrist, Grace’s brown eyes clung to me. Holding up an off-white envelope that was covered in snowflake and snowman stickers, she pushed it into my hands.
“How sweet of you, Grace. Henrik, isn’t that wonderful of Grace to go out of her way like that just for you?”
My eyes shot death rays at Edgar who was standing behind Grace with puckered lips and pretended to make-out with himself.
“Yes. So wonderful. Thank you, Grace.”
A broad smile took over and almost consumed her waifish face.
Sometimes I wondered if Grace just found a man who would work hard for her affection. Maybe even a man who took a risk, got out of his comfort zone, just to watch her smile, she would stop obsessing over me.
I was not that man. I had never been that man to any woman and could never be that man to anyone.
“Open it.” Grace bounced on her toes.
“All right.”
I wondered what I might find in the envelope.
Pictures of me with my eyes cut out?
Toenail clippings?
I gingerly pushed my finger across the top, ripping the envelope. Gasping, I jumped as a bit of glittery confetti floated to the floor. I won’t lie, I thought it was anthrax for a second.
Glancing up, I found Edgar as rapt with interest in the card too.
Don’t let there be toenails in this card.
Every muscle in my body were on lockdown as I removed the card.
There was a picture of a dinosaur wrapped in holiday lights, and at the bottom it read, Tree Rex. I wondered what horrors I might find inside the card.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” Edgar pushed me to my doom.
“I was just savoring the front. I will get to it,” I said through gritted teeth.
As I ripped off the bandage and flipped open the card, I found that Grace wrote Happy Holidays and signed it, in ink. I turned it over, and it was blank on the back.
“It’s just a card.” I began to laugh and shook my head repeating the words over and over, “It’s just a card.”
“Holy hell, it’s just a card.” Edgar stood there dazed and grabbed the envelope from me. He flipped it over as more silver confetti poured out.
“I said I got you a card. I thought it was funny since the dinosaur was a T-Rex and it says, Tree Rex. If you don’t like it, Mr. Payne—”
“No. I love it, Grace. L. O. V. E. Love it. Ha. I just can’t get over that you got me a card.”
Adrenaline was pumping through my body, which was the only reason I grabbed Grace and gave her a hug. There was relief that I didn’t die tonight from a potentially fatal Christmas card.
“I need some punch.” My words blunt as I turned to walk off.
Around the perimeter of the room were tables filled with food trays and drinks, and I made a beeline to the la
rge punchbowl near the door. I poured the pink drink in a red cup and chucked it down my throat. It went down so fast I barely tasted it, so I poured another.
After about four cups I felt better. Much better. Having had enough of the sweet punch, I decided something with some heat was in order.
Whiskey.
Just one. I normally didn’t drink, but I felt more relaxed; ready to unwind after a stressful day. It was time I stopped being so strict with myself. Loosen up my rules a bit, at least for tonight. What could one glass of whiskey do?
THREE
Payne’s Rule
Don’t do anything that might negatively impact the company.
Oh, the pain.
There was so much throbbing agony.
I looked down at my zipper and noticed pubic hair. There was a little bit of skin in between the zipper teeth.
I was about to cry.
It felt as if there were miniature fire ants crawling around inside my penis with machetes, trying to cut their way out.
“Ahh. What the fuck?” I thundered as I worked my zipper down.
There was another pair of hands on my thighs. Ms. Drake grimaced at my crotch on her knees in front of me. I had pictured her many times like this but it never involved excruciating pain or a frown.
She was adding to the discomfort. Her hands pulled at my belt, causing the zipper to snag more of my flesh.
“Ms. Drake, do you mind?”
Her mouth made that adorable O shape I loved, but at the moment I had to concentrate on more pressing matters. Namely, the metal teeth attached to my cock. Turning my back to her, I somehow managed to detach the claws of hell from my dick.
Relief rolled in wave after euphoric wave over my lower region. It was almost as good as an orgasm. I sighed and carefully pulled my fly back up before I turned to face Ms. Drake. That was when it hit me, I was in my office.
When did that happen?
The last thing I remembered was drinking a glass of whiskey at the office holiday party.
I just figured out how I got here.
That was why I never drank. Actually, there were several reasons I didn’t drink alcohol, but that was one of them. I could never have only one drink. Before I knew it, I wound up in my office with my dick stuck in my zipper and my sexy assistant grabbing at my clothes.
Rules of Payne (Cake Love Book 1) Page 2
