CE O

by M T Stone

  “So you were able to come up with all of this without even using it?” I ask, hoping to see a guilty reaction.

  “Well, I kind of assumed those would be things that someone who uses a dildo would be looking for,” she replies, maintaining her composure. “Isn’t that what marketing is all about?”

  “Those are all great insights. Are you sure you didn’t try it out?” I press to see if she is able to keep up the façade. “I know you used it. I can tell.”

  “How?” she asks with a challenging look in her eyes. Her cheeks begin to flush, which tells me that my suspicions are on target.

  I hold it up to my nose and sniff. “I use Dawn dishwashing soap at home, and this baby smells just like Dawn.” I smile and set it back down on the desk. “I’m glad you tried it out. You wrote a great initial piece, and I think you brought it back cleaner than it was when I gave it to you.” Now, I’ve left her speechless. She simply stares back at me while her cheeks take on a rosy glow. “So you liked it?”

  She leans forward and whispers, “I loved it. It gave me the best orgasms of my life.” She leans back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest. “Anything else you need to know?”

  Her sudden candor surprises me, so for a moment, I’m the one who is speechless. “Do you still want to work on that new catalog?” I ask, steering the conversation back to business. I would really like to know the details about her and Kip, but once again, she’s not wearing a ring. I decide to let that topic slide for the moment.

  “I do.” Her expression relaxes just a tad.

  “I’m going to offer you a three-month internship, which is standard for someone who has just graduated from college. When can you start?” I ask, hoping her answer will be immediately. I would love to get some sample catalogs together before Sexapalooza.

  She looks down at her phone for the time. “How about a half hour from now? I haven’t had any breakfast. I saw there is a bagel and coffee cart down in the lobby.”

  “Sure. In fact, I’ll join you. I’ll make sure you don’t get harassed in the elevator this time.” I smile and push my chair back from the desk.

  “By anyone other than you?” She narrows her eyes.

  I’m glad to see her lightening up just a bit. Sometimes, all it takes is a few good orgasms. She is beautiful, smart, and has a killer body, so if she turns out to have a personality . . . I could actually be in trouble. I’ve always been a ravenous fan of blonde hair and hazel eyes.

  我愛你

  Felicia

  I know this is a dream opportunity for someone who just graduated from college. I’ve been so pissed at Kip for making me miss out on that opportunity in New York, but gazing across the hallway into Rex’s office, I think it might have been a blessing. He looks up from what he’s doing and flashes me that million-dollar smile. After a few seconds, he shuffles a few papers around, looking a bit flustered. It’s hilarious that I’m having that type of an effect on him after the way he made me blush earlier.

  I log on to the fashion directory and begin piecing together the catalog, starting with the raciest fashions which will be in the center. I’ve never been one for fancy lingerie, but some of these outfits look like they could be a lot of fun. I copy and paste the contact names and numbers into my spreadsheet and move on to the next vendor. “What do you think of these teddies?” I ask Rex when he comes out of his office and passes by my desk.

  “I think it would look great on you,” he says with a wink. “Especially the black one.”

  “Very funny. You know I meant for the catalog.” Okay, he still has the ability to make me blush at the drop of a hat. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get over that. “How many pages are going to be dedicated to toys?” I ask, trying to quickly move past it.

  “I want a two-page spread on the new RH Signature line and probably eight additional pages for the other items. The Demonizer was just featured in Cosmo and a couple of other magazines, so that will be featured exclusively on the following page, and then we’ll pull the rest of the pages from the current catalog.”

  “Great! I should have this whole thing together by the end of next week,” I tell him, even though I haven’t started talking to any of the vendors yet. “At least a good first draft of it,” I add, hedging my position.

  “The trade show is in two weeks, so I would like to have at least a thousand for that,” he replies. “That way, we can see how prospective customers react to it in real time. That type of instant analysis is priceless.” He turns and looks at Barb’s desk. “Now I forgot what I came out here for.” He shakes his head and turns back toward his office, giving me a nice view of that tight ass. I know I shouldn’t be thinking about my new boss this way, but wow.

  Chapter 4

  Rex

  The End Of The Following Week

  After finishing up the weekly management call, my thoughts turn to seeing if my newest hire has finished the prototype of the new catalog. I had Barb move her to an office down the hall because it was too distracting to have her in the executive suite. As I approach her office door, I hear sorrowful sounds, so I glance around the corner before entering. I’m met with the longest, saddest face I’ve seen in recent memory. She’s staring at her phone and her expression is one of sheer agony.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, slowly making my way toward her desk.

  “No,” she whimpers through her tears. “I’m anything but okay.” She breaks down and tears continue to stream down her cheeks. I’m thinking that someone close to her has died or some sort of similar tragedy has occurred. I take a seat across from her, wanting to offer condolences but not knowing exactly what to say.

  “Anything you want to talk about?” I ask as her shoulders begin shaking violently as she tries to hold back her emotions. Instead of responding, she simply turns her phone toward me, revealing a picture of Kip smiling with his arms around a voluptuous brunette. This is obviously an answer to the question I had early on. She obviously has history with Kip, but he appears to have moved on. “Who’s the girl?” I ask, since she appears to be the problem.

  “My best friend,” she whimpers, still unable to speak.

  “I’m so sorry,” I reply, wishing there were something I could do. I can’t imagine what it feels like to be simultaneously betrayed by two of the most important people in your life. “Maybe I should give you some privacy.”

  “No,” she says, looking up at me with pleading eyes. “Will you just stay for a little bit?” She turns in her chair, retrieving a packet of tissues from her purse. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess. I’m just completely shocked. I was wondering why she hasn’t been returning my calls.”

  “Were you engaged?” I ask, still not knowing just how serious the relationship had been between them.

  She shakes her head no. “He was supposed to give me an engagement ring for Christmas,” she says, continuing to whisk away the streams of tears that are running down her cheeks. “But instead, he bought me a diamond necklace. A month before graduation, I had a job offer from a fashion house in Manhattan. It was my dream job, so I pushed for some sort of commitment. That’s when he bought me a car.”

  “Wow, that’s a little cold,” I reply, totally understanding his line of thinking. Buying someone a large-ticket item like a car would normally be an indicator that you are seriously interested, just like buying expensive jewelry. Marrying someone, though, is the ultimate commitment. Not something to be taken lightly, and much more complex to get out of than a car. Especially if you live in a community property state like Washington.

  “I understand he needed some time and space, but really? Going after my best friend?” Her voice cracks as she tries to say it. “What an asshole.”

  “Kip is an asshole,” I reply without really thinking. “In my opinion, you dodged a bullet.”

  “What do you know about him?” she asks, thinking my judgment is based on public perception.

  “I played football with him my sophomore year at UW,” I inform her w
ith a sigh. “He assaulted me at a party one night. A couple of girls were flirting with me instead of him.”

  “And he assaulted you?” she asks with a spark in her eyes.

  “I may have said a couple of things too.” My lip curls just slightly as I think back to my comments. Something about women preferring men over Neanderthals. “Still, he was totally out of line.”

  “He still can’t control his temper,” she admits, looking down at the screen of her phone. “He says that’s what gives him an edge on the field.”

  “That’s probably true, but there’s a time and a place for aggression. And you don’t take out your frustrations on a teammate.” I reach over and take the phone from her hand and lay it face down on the desk. “Stop torturing yourself.”

  “You played football?” she asks, giving me a look of disbelief.

  “I was the starting quarterback both my freshman and sophomore years,” I inform her. “At least until I got my first concussion. That’s the other reason I hate Kip.”

  “He had something to do with it?” she asks, wiping the remaining tears from her cheek.

  “No. But the smile on his face said it all. He was glad to see me hurt, even though it cost us the season.” I feel a tension in my chest just as real as it was ten years ago. “I can still picture the look on his face even though it was almost a decade ago.”

  “I know the smile you’re talking about,” she concurs. “That snide, asshole smirk that makes you want to slap him. I’ve seen more than my share of them.”

  “Like I said, I think you dodged a bullet,” I repeat. “I know that’s not something you want to hear right now, but you’re too good for him. Way too good.” I reach over and place my hand on hers. “I’m probably out of line here, since I’m technically your boss now, but you took my breath away the moment I met you.”

  She smiles and clears her throat before straightening up in her chair. “I’ve never worked in an office before, but I know for a fact that the quickest way to get into trouble is by messing around with the boss.”

  “Well, I haven’t officially hired you yet,” I counter. “This is just a short-term internship.” I smile as she gives me an apprehensive look. “After the internship is up, maybe I should just hire you as my personal assistant. I could use a little assistance outside the office too.”

  “To pick up your dry cleaning and give you blow jobs?” she asks with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

  “No!” I sigh, not wanting to give her the wrong idea. “I don’t buy anything that needs to be dry cleaned.” I pat her hand and rise from my seat. “It was just a suggestion off the top of my head. You just think about it, and we’ll make a decision when the time comes.” I stand and reach into my jacket pocket for my business card. “If you need anything at all this weekend, just give me a call on my cell.”

  “Thank you,” she says, her face drooping again. “I’ll think about what you said. Will I still be able to work on marketing and the new catalogs?”

  “Of course! You’ll just have more flexibility so you can work from home instead of this dreary office.” I scan the stark white walls and gray industrial carpet. “I never realized the offices back here were so depressing.”

  “My new studio apartment isn’t much better,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “I’m not so sure I’d want to work from home.”

  “Let’s just say you can work from anywhere you want,” I assure her. “If you want to work here, no one is going to give you any problems. I’m the boss, so if anyone has an issue, they can bring it up with me.” I turn and walk toward the door. “If you need to talk, just call me . . . I mean it.”

  “I will, thanks.” She picks up her phone and clicks the button, looking once again at the picture of her former dickhead and her best friend. I glance back one more time before heading down the hallway, back to the executive suite. She is still beautiful, even with smudged makeup and bloodshot eyes. There is a part of me that just wants to go back into her office, wrap my arms around her, and tell her that everything is going to be all right. In fact, she’s bringing out lots of feelings that I’ve never felt before. Something strange is happening, and I’m not so sure I like it.

  Chapter 5

  Felicia

  My thoughts become scattered after Rex leaves my office. Not only is my ex-fiancé obviously fucking my best friend, but now Rex suggests that I should be a personal employee instead of a corporate one. There’s only one reason for him to do it that way, and I’m not emotionally up for anything right now. I slip my phone into my purse and sit back in my chair, letting out a long-held breath. Part of me is actually glad that Kip did this because now, it’s officially over. And if I’m honest with myself, I’ve always known that my best friend is a major slut. She has flirted with every one of my boyfriends going all the way back to grade school. Ironically, I click on Facebook and within a matter of seconds, I see a very timely quote. The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies.

  I check the time and it’s a few minutes before four. I’m in no shape to get any work done, but I hate to leave early since I’m the newest one here. I click through my contacts to find a couple of designers who have fashion lines that would be perfect for the first few pages of the catalog, but I’m in no mood to reach out to them. Instead, I make notes in my calendar to call them on Monday. I bookmark several items from each designer that I would like to feature so I have something to talk about when I reach them. My phone buzzes just as I’m finishing, and it’s a text from a number I don’t have in my contacts.

  425-555-6969: Would you come to my office?

  I glance down at the business card that Rex left behind, and it matches his cellphone number.

  Me: Be right there.

  I pick up my MacBook and take it with me, thinking I’ll be able to show him my thoughts on the first few pages. My head is still spinning, but focusing on something positive is the only way to keep from bursting into tears again. Entering the executive suite, everything is quiet. “I forgot to tell you, we close up shop an hour early on Fridays,” Rex says as I approach his open door.

  “That’s good. I’m having a hard time concentrating on anything productive,” I reply, feeling like I’ve been put through the wringer. I sit down after he gestures toward a chair. “Do you want to see the ideas that I picked out from the first two designers I’m going to contact?”

  “That can wait until Monday. For now, I just wanted to make sure you’re going to be okay,” he says with a genuine look of concern. His soft brown eyes are filled with compassion, which is something I haven’t seen in a long while. “Will you have dinner with me?”

  “Tonight? I look like a wreck and feel even worse,” I reply, wanting to just go home and cry my eyes out alone. “I would be horrible company.”

  “I order those meals that come fresh and you just have to make them, but they’re designed for two people, so I either have to eat the same thing twice or stuff myself,” he explains. “We can talk about the catalog at the same time. I would consider it a favor,” he adds, raising an eyebrow.

  “You’re making this hard, but I just don’t feel up to it.” I slip my computer under my arm and prepare to make my departure.

  “I really think you need something to take your mind off everything that has happened,” he persists. “Having dinner, a glass of Moscato D’ Asti, and talking fashion will keep you from focusing on sluts and assholes,” he says, taking me by surprise.

  “What kind of Moscato?”

  “Santos.” A smile breaks across his face.

  “How would you possibly know that’s my favorite?” I ask, thinking of where he possibly could’ve gleaned that tidbit of knowledge.

  “Just a guess,” he replies, tipping his hand. “You seem like a girl who would like it light and sweet.”

  “That’s just weird. You must’ve heard me say something about it or something, but yes, I absolutely love it.” I pause for a moment, wondering if I really want to go
to dinner at his house. “I should really go home and freshen up first.”

  “You look great,” he counters. “You can freshen up while I make dinner.”

  He will make me dinner? The thought of it almost blows my mind. Kip’s idea of making dinner would’ve been calling Dominos or Jimmy Johns. “You’ve got me. I can’t turn down Santos and having you cook dinner for me. As long as you’re a good cook,” I tease.

  “I’m an excellent cook,” he replies with a wry smile. “If I had more ambition, I would’ve been a chef, but those guys work too damn hard. I’m ready to blow this pop stand, so just follow me.”

  “Okay, I just need to stop by my office and grab my purse.” I find myself feeling really apprehensive as I get up from the chair. I know it’s a major mistake to have dinner and wine with a gorgeous guy when you’re feeling this brokenhearted. Add the fact that he’s my new boss, and it’s a recipe for total disaster.

  “It’s okay, I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he says, apparently sensing my apprehension.

  “I’m sure you will.” I roll my eyes and turn to head back to my office. I’m only going to have one glass of wine . . . or two at the most. That way, I’ll easily be able to drive home and won’t get myself into an even bigger mess.

  我愛你

  I follow Rex out of the parking ramp, admiring his sleek black Tesla. After going east on I-90 for several miles, we turn off and head north along Lake Sammamish. The western sun is peeking through the clouds, accentuating the beauty of the homes as we drive past them. He pulls off the parkway and into the driveway of a very contemporary looking condominium unit. Judging by the perfectly manicured landscape, shiny polished exterior, and the plethora of high-end cars parked around the complex, it’s obviously a high-end complex.

  “Go ahead and park between the Tesla and the red Ferrari,” he says, emerging from the underground parking. “I’ve got an extra spot.”