by Kelli Walker
“Tiffany?”
“Yes?” I asked.
I looked up into his eyes and watched them spark. Darken. Narrow ever so slightly. I held my breath, turning my entire body to him. I was magnetized. Entranced. I could smell the whiskey on his breath. I wanted to taste it on his lips. Wrap his suit in my fists and-
The elevator doors whooshed open and I wasted no time in peeling myself away from my boss. It was the alcohol. It had to be. There was no other explanation. He escorted me to my room and I slid my key in, opening the door with my hip.
“Thank you for accompanying me tonight,” Kenneth said.
“Thank you for inviting me. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Our eyes connected and I watched his face lower to mine. I felt his breath against my skin. Watched his eyes close as my lips reached for his. But at the last second, I closed my lips and pecked him lightly. His eyes whipped open and I grinned at him, then winked before I slipped into my room. I could tell he was disappointed. His shoulders relaxing and his body pausing, like he couldn't believe I’d dodged him like that.
I shut the door before I could get into anymore trouble and leaned against it heavily.
Mother. I needed to check on my mother. That would get my mind off the wonderful evening I’d had with my boss. I walked over to the couch and grabbed it off the coffee table, then opened it up. I had an email from Paige updating me on my mother’s condition. She seemed okay. Threatened to shoot Paige at first, which wasn’t shocking. My mother had no idea how to shoot a gun, but she wasn’t afraid to act like she did. Her back was feeling better, but apparently Mom was being stubborn about taking her medication.
I’d have to shoot her an email about that.
I opened up a new document and began typing up the formal minutes of both meetings so I could send them to Kenneth. I bounced between typing them up and sending off emails. I shot one to Paige. One to my mother. I sent a couple to myself, reminding me of things that needed to get done once we got back. I saved them in a special folder so I could easily access them later, then I flipped back to my document.
But my father suddenly popped into my mind.
I lost myself in the endless internet searches. His obituary. Random pictures of him I’d posted on my social media accounts. Countless condolences left in various parts of the internet that were searchable with the right keywords. I even came across a couple of local articles that wrote on my father’s firing from Instatech. The harassment scandals that plagued him and his inability to contest the false accusations.
Tears welled in my eyes as an email came in from Paige.
I missed my father more than I could stand. And the way he died… it shook me to my core. If my father was a sexual harasser-- a predator in the form of a janitor-- I had no idea how that would make me feel. If I continued my quest for knowledge and answers, there was the slightest chance I wouldn’t like what I found. Every daughter wanted to believe the best of their father. Hell, Paige was living proof of that. Always looking to her father for answers and guidance despite the fact that she was conceived because of her father’s bone-headed move to step out of his marriage.
Fathers weren’t perfect.
Was it possible my father had harassed those women? Rationale told me ‘yes’, but the rest of me said ‘no’. I knew my father. I knew the kind of things he was capable of. He had his faults. He wasn’t perfect. But he had morals. An ethical code he lived by. He taught me how to defend myself. How to be strong and independent. How to rely on no one else but myself for anything, and that included money.
No. I knew my father. There was no way he was the kind of man these articles painted him to be.
I opened the email from Paige and read it. She hoped I was having fun and kept telling me not to worry about my mother. She said people always came around to her, and that her mother would as well. She planned on stopping by in the morning to take her breakfast before work, and I made a mental note to get Paige something nice when I got back. A gift basket or a gift card or something.
I shot her one last email back, then finished typing up the minutes for the meeting.
I saved them on my computer, then resolved to sending them later. I needed a shower. Wanted one, really. The conversation with Kenneth over dinner got me a little farther in my research, but not much. All he did was confirm that he did help his friend with his company like I’d found in one of the articles. But then when I mentioned the possible firing of Mr. Lochter, he gave yet another answer that wasn’t fitting to the persona I was trying to cram him into.
And something about that didn’t sit right with me.
I wasn’t sure how I was going to figure out whether or not Kenneth had any say-so in what happened to my father. Any hand in firing him before Human Resources could do their job. I groaned as I walked towards the bathroom, shedding my clothes with every step I took. Why couldn’t my mother have simply told me? Saved us all the heartache? If she told me Kenneth had been a part of Instatech during the time of my father’s ‘issues’, I would’ve never done the interview. Never taken the position.
Why the vague warning of him?
Maybe she was warning me of something else?
Was it possible my mother had no idea of this either?
My head hurt. The alcohol was beginning to blur the lines between rationale and paranoia. I turned on the hot water and stepped into the stream, trying to work some of the alcohol through my system quicker. I closed my eyes and felt my makeup drip down my cheeks. Pour down my neck. Rush down my stomach. My head fell back and I slid my hands through my hair, melting the first day of meetings away.
I had an early morning the next day. Which meant I needed to get to bed.
Maybe a good night’s rest would help set my mind back on track.
And stop me from picking apart every single thing around me.
Kenneth
The meetings were going well, but my mind was clouded with thoughts of her. Tiffany. The woman I’d had a taste of. I wanted more. I craved more of her. But we got swept up in meetings all week. Last-minute clients that wanted to sit down with me and meetings that ran hours longer than necessary because negotiations didn’t go well. I took a sip of my scotch as I gazed out over the skyline of Zurich. It was going to be good to have a free day. A day with no meetings and no negotiations and no people who were pissed that things were suddenly changing.
But the alcohol didn’t wash her from my mind.
I wondered what Tiffany would do with her free day. I remembered her mentioning that friend of hers wanting her to do some things in town. Did she still have plans to go out? To explore the city on the one day we had to ourselves?
Wanting an answer to that question was all the coaxing I needed to go down to her hotel room.
I threw back the rest of my drink and made my way down a couple of floors. I stood in front of her door, my hands in my pockets. Did she want to see me? Would she want to talk to me about her plans if I asked? Or would she feel obligated to talk with me because I was her boss?
Either way, I wanted to see her.
I needed it, honestly.
My knuckles rapped against the door and I heard her beginning to scramble. Something crashed and I heard her curse gently to herself. Her feet moved quickly across the floor and I buried a smirk. I slid my hands from my pockets and clasped them in front of me, growing more anxious by the second.
“I’m not familiar with the currency, but I think this is-”
The door flew open and my eyes widened. Tiffany was in nothing but a tank top and shorts. Her thick legs were bare, smooth to the touch and glistening underneath the lights of the hallway. Her hair was piled high on her head and her breasts were practically spilling from the top of the flimsy fabric she called a shirt.
“You’re not the delivery guy,” she said.
“I’m many things, but a delivery guy I am not,” I said.
She dropped her things and ran off and I slipped my foot against the door
. Her ass bounced with her movements, leaving me in a seduced trance. She was beautiful and she didn’t even know it. That dip in her waist called to the palms of my hands. I wanted to plant my lips against hers. Taste her sweetness on my tongue again. She came back around the corner with a robe wrapped around her form, her hands tightening the knot to keep it in place.
Fuck that robe.
“I’m so sorry. I really thought you were the delivery guy with my food,” Tiffany said.
“Never apologize for having such a beautiful body,” I said. “Though I’m sure the delivery guy might consider seeing you all the tip he’ll need.”
She blushed underneath my comment, but I could see conflict in her eyes.
“Mind if I come in?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sure. Come on in, Kenneth.”
I slipped in through the door and closed it behind me. I still wasn’t sure if she wanted me there. The war raging in her stare made me wary. The last thing I wanted was to push her to do something she didn’t want. Tiffany didn’t strike me as the type of woman to take something lying down. But she did strike me as the kind of woman to not turn away her boss.
“How are you feeling after today?” I asked.
“It was a doozy of a day, that much I can say.”
“I know that meeting this afternoon ran much longer than either of us had anticipated.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Swede that angry,” she said.
“I don’t think I’ve seen anyone that angry.”
“Do you think they’ll reconsider the contract negotiation? Or do you think they’ll back out altogether?”
“It’s a toss-up at this point. Either way, the company’s prepared for whatever comes.”
And still, that conflict rose up in her eyes.
“If you don’t want me here, all you have to do is say so,” I said.
“What? Oh, no. It’s nothing like that,” Tiffany said. “You’re more than welcome in here.”
“You look bothered.”
“Just worried about my mother.”
“Has something happened?”
“You know that secretary of Mr. Lochter’s? Paige?”
“Your friend that wanted you to explore the city on your day off tomorrow,” I said.
“Yeah. Her. She’s been dropping in on my mom. You know, to make sure she’s okay while I’m gone. Apparently, she’s being very stubborn with her pain medication.”
“Not a fan of taking them?” I asked.
“Nope. But it’s never been this bad. It’s like she’s waiting until she can’t grit through the pain before she takes it. And by then-”
“She needs more than she can take to keep the pain at bay.”
“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”
“Bum shoulder,” I said. “I’ve had rotator cuff surgery on it twice now.”
“Your shoulder.”
“Mhm.”
“Which one?” she asked.
I grinned and watched her cheeks flush again.
“Hard to imagine me with shoulder issues?” I asked.
“They’re just… well, they can lift a lot. That’s all,” Tiffany said.
I chuckled and watched as a giggle fell from her lips. She shook her head and ran her hand across the loose tendrils of her hair. Even in a robe and her disheveled locks, she was gorgeous. A masterpiece to behold. It was reassuring to hear her say I was welcome in her hotel suite. Because I wanted to be there next to her.
“I thought maybe the conflict in your eyes was because of our… encounter.”
“Encounter. Is that what we’re calling it?” she asked.
“I was sort of wrapping our date into all of that as well,” I said.
“So that was a date.”
“Did you think it was something else?”
“I was telling myself it was a business dinner.”
“Then it sounds like I need to redefine what you consider a date. Especially after all the fun we had.”
Tiffany giggled and it shot shivers down my spine. Every movement she had, from the grin of her lips to the stride of her legs, was graceful. Intentional. Filled with a poise I’d never found on any other woman. It was effortless for her. Effortless to seem confident and innocent and intelligent all at the same time. She was the most confusing woman I’d ever encountered. I had no idea what made her tick. What made her get up in the morning. What made her into the woman she was standing in front of me.
And I wanted to know.
I wanted her to give me the time to get to know all those things.
“Why did you think I was worried about those… encounters?” she asked.
“I’m a prominent man. You’re a recently-hired secretary. Sometimes people take pictures, and sometimes they get into the wrong hands.”
“That’s a thing that happens with you?” she asked.
“It’s a thing that could happen.”
“Well, I’m worried about it now.”
“My point was, you don’t have to worry about it. That’s all I was getting at.”
“Ah. Okay. Well, then thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“I don’t know, but I feel very awkward right now.”
It was my turn to laugh, and it relaxed my body as we stood there in the middle of her hotel suite.
“Speaking of your friend, are you still planning on going out tomorrow to do whatever it is she told you to do?” I asked.
“Yep. If we still have a free day tomorrow. I figured with the way things went today, we might not get it.”
“Oh no, it’s a free day tomorrow. On trips like these, it’s important to have one day where all parties take a breather. That day is definitely tomorrow because I need it.”
“Then yes, I wholeheartedly intend on going and seeing some of the sights.”
“What did Paige want you to do?” I asked.
“She told me that there’s a lot of wonderful shopping to do in Old Town and that a place called Le Dezaley has the best cheese fondue in the area.”
“Try the country,” I said.
“So you know of it?”
“It’s my favorite place to eat.”
“Do you want to join me tomorrow?” she asked.
“Are you asking out of courtesy or out of a want for my presence?”
“Does it matter?”
“To me? Yes.”
Our eyes connected and I held her gaze. I didn’t want to encroach on her day if she didn’t really want me there. I didn’t want her offering me something like that out of politeness. Though I was hesitant to let a single woman walk around alone in a city she wasn't familiar with in a country she’d never been in. Either way, I was going to arrange for her to ride around in style. Keep her safe, even if she didn’t want me there with her.
But before she could answer, a knock came at the door.
“Delivery for… Tiffany Graves?”
“That would be my dinner,” she said.
“What did you order?” I asked.
“Indian. Chicken tikka masala, to be exact.”
“Are you a fan of Indian cuisine?”
“It’s my favorite,” she said as she opened the door.
Maybe when we got back home she’d let me take her out again. I knew this fabulous Indian restaurant that would knock the pants off her body.
Metaphorically and literally.
“Thanks,” she said as she handed the delivery man a tip.
His eyes widened as she shut the door and I stifled a chuckle.
“What?” Tiffany asked.
“You should’ve seen the look on that man’s face,” I said.
“I’m in a robe, Kenneth.”
“You gave him a fifty dollar tip.”
Her eyes widened and I couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped from between my lips.
“Well, hopefully he needs it for something,” she said.
“I’m sure he’ll find a purpose. Now, about your
day tomorrow.”
“What about it?”
“On a practical note, I don’t need anything happening to my secretary while she’s out on the town. If you want to go to Old Town and explore Zurich, that’s fine. However, I’m going to arrange that you do it in style.”
“Is that code for ‘I’m going to find someone to drive you around’?”
“It is,” I said.
“I don’t need protection, Kenneth. Zurich doesn’t strike me as the place that would do me any harm.”
“You need to stay safe. You’re my responsibility while we’re out here.”
“I’m no one’s responsibility,” she said.
“Fine. You’re doing this on the company’s dime, so you’re the company’s responsibility. If you get hurt, that’s on the company’s shoulders.”
“How did you manage to take my nice invitation to go get cheese fondue tomorrow for lunch or something and turn it into an argument?” she asked.
“It isn’t an argument. I’m telling you as your boss that you’re going to have someone with you tomorrow. A driver, at the very least. You’re the personal secretary to a very important man.”
“Sounds like his ego talking,” she said with a murmur.
“Take it or leave it.”
“You don’t get to tell me what I do with my day off, Mr. Weber.”
“And you don’t get to put yourself in harm’s way simply because you want to indulge the romantic notion of walking alone in a foreign city, Miss Graves.”
She set her bag of food onto the counter and began pulling it out. I knew she wasn’t happy with me, but I didn’t care. It wasn’t safe for her to be out walking around by herself in a city she wasn’t familiar with, and I wasn’t having it.
“I should get back to work. You know, preparing for the last leg of meetings this week,” Tiffany said.
It was the tone of her voice that made me feel as defeated as I did. I figured Le Dezaley was no longer on the table, so I didn’t bring it up. She popped open her food and mixed it all up in a bowl, then opened up a drink she must’ve gotten with her food.
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll leave you to it.”
I wanted to stay with her, but she wouldn’t even look me in the eye. Fuck. All I wanted was to protect her, and now she was pissed at me. I opened her hotel room door and silently left, closing it softly behind me.
