by Lila Younger
I push Ms. Martin to the back of my brain and focus on the day ahead as I walk to the office. My head is teeming with ideas, and I’m relishing the idea of getting back into things. Everyone I know calls me a workaholic, and they’re not wrong, though I prefer to call it ‘being driven’. In fact, Burke had to force me take my vacation time, or I would have skipped my cousin’s Hawaiian wedding altogether. The guy even tried to limit my work emails. Said my team would get along fine without me, which definitely didn’t help me relax.
There were some pretty big launches in the works when I was practically pushed out of the office by Burke, the senior partner. One of them seemed to have turned out okay, though I expected a lot more from social media, while the other two are set to go out next week so there’s still time to fix things. The scant updates I got were not promising, that’s for sure. And with the rumors swirling about Pepsi... A client like that could mean I would be able to set my firm up now. I shake my head. I can’t think about that right now. I have to focus on my current projects, because if they don’t do well, Pepsi’s going to pass over a small firm like Bronson & Burke, no matter how fresh and sophisticated and on trend we are.
Once I’m back at Bronson & Burke, I head to my office, shed my jacket, and grab my notebook and fountain pen. Even though social media and electronics feature heavily in all of the campaigns we design for our clients, there are certain things that I find do better with paper and pen. I head back out towards the conference rooms and I’m satisfied to see Willow already sitting there. I watch as her eyes widen with recognition, dart to the coffee cup in my hand, and then down at her own notebook in front of her. Her cheeks get rosy, which is adorable.
I have my bit of fun echoing her own words back at her, but then I slip into my business self. People have definitely been slacking. Half of them should be further along, while the other have seem to have fallen off the rails from our last discussion. Clearly I can’t trust Burke to really look over my team while I’m gone. The next time he tells me to take a vacation, I’m going to ignore it, because a lot of damage has been done in the weeks I’ve been away. The only highlight of the meeting is Willow, who seems to have a decent grasp on the basics of marketing and design for someone who’s just gotten out of school. I noticed that she went above and beyond expectations too, providing a few different takes on what the client asked.
Throughout the meeting, I find myself looking at her now and again. In addition to the glasses, her clothes are dressed to cover up. Her shirt’s buttoned up all the way, and she’s wearing a sensible navy pencil skirt. It’s easy to pass her over, but now that I’ve noticed, it’s impossible to ignore. And well, I’ve always got a good imagination. I can sketch out her slim curves beneath her clothes, her body delicate and pliable, like a cat. I entertain the thought of pushing her up against my desk, giving her a little punishment for the words she’s said today as I listen to yet another mediocre work update.
Once I’m satisfied that I’ve gotten everyone back on track, I dismiss them and head to my next meeting. Bronson & Burke consists of two senior associates, Aiden and I, who are both in line for becoming partner, and Burke of Bronson & Burke. Bronson retired years ago, but Burke still likes to dabble in projects now and again.
Aiden has been here almost three years longer than I have, and from what I have seen, he’s a good workhorse. He performs consistently, but as Burke told me upon hiring, he’s yet to have a breakout campaign. That’s when I was brought aboard. I suspect Aiden knows it too, because the guy’s been cool and distant to me ever since I’ve arrived.
“Sheffield,” Burke says when I walk into his office. He comes around the desk to clap my shoulder. “How was Hawaii?”
“Sunny,” I say. What is with everyone wanting to know? Hawaii was Hawaii. Lots of nice views, too much downtime.
Burke though laughs as though I’ve said something remarkably funny. He’s a jolly old guy, like Santa without a beard. You can tell he’s just here because he’s doing what he loves, not because he needs the job or the money. He’s got pictures of his grandkids everywhere in the office, and he always wears these absurdly patterned ties his wife buys him. I think it’s meant to be a joke, but I’m not sure, and I don’t know how to ask without offending the guy.
“And how’s the new hire?” he asks.
“She’s fine.”
“Pretty too huh?” The old lech says, raising his eyebrows.
“Didn’t notice,” I say evenly. It’s a lie, but the last thing I need is to start up the office gossip mill.
Aiden pops up a second later, so we don’t have to continue the conversation. He closes the door behind him, and we all sit down, Burke at the desk, the two of us in the cozy leather chairs facing him.
Right away Burke confirms the rumors about Pepsi. They’re looking to make a big push domestically and internationally to launch a whole slew of healthy drinks aimed at a population that can no longer drink as much sugary soda as they want. If it goes well, the firm that wins the contract could be looking at a lucrative deal for a long time. My hand twirls my pen restlessly. Something like this doesn’t come often, and it’s got me fired up. I want to win this. Burke outlines a plan he has: our three teams will each independently come up with a pitch, increasing the chances for B & B to win.
I glance over at Aiden. He’s leaning forward, drinking in the words the old boss is saying. He wants this too. Too bad that won’t happen. I’ve got a solid team, and nothing is going to distract me from getting the client. Not even the lovely new junior junior associate.
Chapter 3
Willow
I couldn’t tell you what happened for the rest of the meeting. I was too busy freaking out, trying to avoid Deacon Sheffield’s gaze. I felt his eyes on me the whole time, like he was trying to silently tell me he was onto me. I wasn’t sure if someone could get fired over calling their boss an asshole, but what if he pulled me aside to talk to me? The humiliation alone would make it impossible to show my face at work ever again.
And I was just starting! I really did like the work I was doing, and there was no way I’d be able to find something half as good on such short notice to support Jordan and I. Mom and Dad had life insurance, but she was a schoolteacher and he was a manager at a chain restaurant, so it was hardly a huge payout. Just enough to cover paying off the rest of the house we lived in.
The end of the meeting wraps up, and just as I thought, I hadn’t been asked to contribute anything. I get up with my donut, preparing for Deacon to ask me to stay back, but it doesn’t happen. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until I let it out at my desk.
The rest of the day passes uneventfully. Joan and I got the go-ahead to move forward with our print ad for a brand of high end chocolates. As part of our ‘research’, we bought a few boxes of the stuff so we could get a feel for the company and its product. What can I say? I’m dedicated to my work. The next ad we have to work on is for a local carpet cleaner company, which isn’t nearly as exciting. Joan begins to think up ideas while I finish up the rest of the box and check my phone repeatedly. Nope. No messages. No calls from the school either though, so maybe Jordan did head to class and just forgot to let me know. That’s generally how my work days go, and I’m relieved to see that having the boss back doesn’t change any of it.
Not that work hasn’t changed. I’m a lot more distracted now. A lot.
I’m not sure why I never bothered to look up Deacon Sheffield. I even studied the guy in school, well his marketing anyways. But it never occurred to me to see what he looked like. Now that I have, I can’t seem to stop. He’s young and good looking, with the perfect amount of stubble and a chiseled jaw and perfect muscles across that strong frame of his. He’s the whole package. Not one bit of him is flawed as far as I can see.
The next two weeks pass by in a blur of work that has me spending even my lunch break at my desk. The news that Pepsi’s looking for a new firm has got everyone fired up and excited to work, and
there’s a lot of feverish activity as everyone tries to do their best. I even had a few nights where I’d bring my work back home with me. So when Friday rolls around and Joan invites me for after-work drinks, I am tempted to join. Jordan’s going to a concert the next city over with her friends, so it’s a rare night off for me. Ever since our parents passed and I had to step up, I’ve tried to model my best behavior for her, which doesn’t include getting smashed with my colleagues before toddling home to pass out on the couch.
But tonight she wouldn’t be at home.
“Come on,” Joan says, seeing my indecision. “It’ll be fun.”
“I’m not dressed to go out,” I say, gesturing down at my top and work pants.
“Doesn’t matter,” she says. “It’s just a casual place to get some beer and some wood fired pizza.”
My stomach grumbles. It would be nice to have dinner taken care of for me instead of having to cook everything. Not that I have anything at home. We ended up having Cinnamon Toast Crunch last night because I’d been too busy to hit the grocery store.
“Okay,” I relent with a smile. Joan slings an arm over my shoulder.
“That’s more like it Willow. You don’t seem to have enough fun for someone your age, you know that?”
I quickly text Sidney to let her know that I won’t need a ride tonight and follow Joan to her car. There are ten of us going out tonight, including Deacon. I’ve never gone out drinking with my boss before, but it seems like he’s chosen to forget what I said about him, so I’m tentatively hopeful. I just have to make sure I don’t drink and make an idiot of myself like I usually do. That doesn’t mean I can’t have fun though. I definitely plan on it. The place we go to is a hole in the wall with a stage at one end. There’s a band scheduled to play, one I’ve never heard of, doing an upbeat rock and roll number. There are lots of office workers unwinding too, and we grab a big table close to the stage.
“So, what do you think about that?” Anna, another graphic designer says beside me, nodding towards the bar.
I see Deacon there ordering everyone’s drinks. Cassandra, a leggy blonde is up there with him, leaning in to tell him something. I feel an involuntary twinge of jealousy.
“What about it?” I say, opening up a menu. I’m not even reading the words, but it is enough to help distract me.
“Office romance,” Joan says on the other side of me.
“Really?”
“Well, no, not yet. I don’t think Deacon’s even aware of her. But Cassandra tries with him and Aiden all the time. I’m pretty sure she’s trying to bag herself a husband so she can quit working forever,” Anna says in a stage whisper. “She’s even gone for Burke once, and he’s married.”
“I don’t think Deacon’s going to fall for it,” Joan adds, which makes me feel relieved. Which is, of course, ridiculous, since it’s not like I’d go for my boss either. “She’d just distract him from work, and we all know how he is about that.”
“True,” I say quickly. I don’t want to linger on this topic, even though Anna looks like she could dish on it longer. “So what’s good here?”
Joan happily starts to discuss the various pizzas. She loves food just about as much as I love chocolate. We settle on a Neapolitan pizza just as Deacon and Cassandra come back with drinks for everyone. Aside from thanking her for the help, he doesn’t seem to want to say anything to her from my covert glances across the table, and my shoulders relax.
We start talking shop about ways to utilize a new social media platform that lets users upload mini-videos, and then we start to break off into groups as the food arrives and everyone digs in. The pizza is amazing, just like Joan says, and it’s nice to be able to relax and eat without worrying about someone else for once. I really wish I could do this more often. I’m learning a lot about my co-workers, and even discover that one of them plays here occasionally, which is how they first started these after work get togethers. Slowly, I’m starting to feel like Willow, the twenty three year old instead of Willow the mom.
At least three more rounds are ordered, though I skip out each time. Not only is booze really expensive, but I don’t want to take public transportation home while drunk. I’m enjoying myself enough anyways, and luckily Joan’s not drinking either. From time to time I glance over to see Deacon chatting with Simon, a guy who works on Burke’s team, while Cassandra seems to be downing drinks as fast as she can, looking more and more pissed as time goes by. At one point I could swear that he was looking right at me, but that couldn’t be right. I look away and try to act cool, but I can’t help fidgeting with my hair.
At some point during the dinner, the lights start to dim as the place transitions to night time. Some of the tables are cleared off so people can dance. We pay for our dinner, and one or two people head out, but the rest of us decide to stay a while longer.
I know Jordan mentioned that the concert was at eight, and I decide I better try and call her to make sure everything’s okay. She won’t be able to hear her phone at all once the concert starts, and of course, she’s forgotten to call or message me to let me know she got there safely. I grab my purse and head outside. The noise of the place mutes immediately as soon as the heavy door swings shut behind me. There’s a trio to my right smoking as they talk, so I move a little further along so I can have some privacy. It’s cool, and I can see that sometime during our meal it’s rained, because the awnings are dripping. I have to hug the wall to stay dry. Jordan’s phone rings and rings, then hits voicemail.
“Hey this is Jordan. It’s not the 90’s anymore, so snapchat me, cause I won’t be picking up!”
I roll my eyes, and leave a voicemail anyways since at least it’ll pop up as a notification on her phone. She usually texts back within the hour when I do that. I hang up, turn around, and almost smack into Deacon.
“Oh! Sorry sir!” I exclaim.
He holds out a hand to steady me, and a current of electricity runs through me. I almost want to jump back, but I’m rooted to the ground and Deacon doesn’t notice. We’re close, closer than we should be for boss and employee. The first thing I’m aware of is that he’s got these gorgeous eyes, like pools of blue, framed by dark lashes that make them even brighter. The next thing I notice is that he smells good. Really good. Like sandalwood and soap and something masculine and dark that I’ve never smelled on a guy before. I feel myself leaning forward to him, as if drawn closer by a magnetic force.
I try to keep myself calm, but my body hasn’t gotten the message at all. I know that he’s my boss, that things won’t be the same ever again if we do have sex, and that I really, really do want to keep my job. It’s illegal how good looking Deacon is though. He should come with a warning sign.
“Willow, right?” he says, his voice dropping down a throaty notch that made me breathe harder all of a sudden.
I nod silently. My throat’s gone Sahara dry. I’m not great at talking to good looking guys, so forget about great ones like Deacon. My eyes are glued to him, unable to look away at all. I’m caught by his gaze on me, almost mesmerizing in its intensity. Heat spreads like wildfire through my lower half, and I involuntarily tighten my thighs together.
“Are you heading home too?”
“Oh uhm, maybe,” I say, my brain still in a fog. “I think so. I... I have to pick up groceries.”
Way lame Willow, I think immediately. Who goes to Walmart on a Friday night?
“I mean, not tonight. Tomorrow morning.”
“And you have to go to bed at eight to do that?” he says, a smile tugging at his lips.
It’s playful and wicked and definitely not good for me. I feel the world tilt underneath me, sending me off balance. I have no idea how he’s managing to do all this to me. I’ve had boyfriends, but nothing like this. It feels like my whole body’s vibrating from being so close to him. I try to focus on my words instead of on him.
“I’m not much of a morning person,” I say weakly, feeling the cleft between my legs grow wetter.
“Yes, I know.”
This is the first time he’s referred to that disastrous morning with Sidney and I have no idea what to say. Sorry? Not sorry? Laugh it off? The moment stretches out a little, until it’s almost uncomfortable, but Deacon’s completely unfazed. He’s looking at me thoughtfully, probably wondering how I’m so socially awkward.
“Goodnight then,” I say at last, the last of my hopes of ever sleeping with Deacon Sheffield disappearing into the cool night air.
“Goodnight. See you tomorrow Willow.”
He takes out a pair of keys. He’s planning to drive? But he’s had at least three drinks! And before I could stop myself, I hold out a hand and grab his sleeve.
“You can’t drive!”
Chapter 4
Deacon
Willow looks almost as surprised as I do by her outburst. At work she’s quiet, hardworking, almost never meeting my eyes. I’m intrigued by this sudden change in her. I turn to fully face her again and really look at her. Past her liquid chocolate eyes is a fierceness that I haven’t seen and I wonder just why that is. Clearly I’ve triggered something. Just as suddenly, the fire’s gone, and she’s back to her subdued self. She lets go of me, and I’m surprised to find I’m disappointed.
“I mean, you’ve already had three drinks,” she mumbles.
“You’ve been keeping track?”
I know that she’s been looking my way. I don’t mind; I like looking at her too. She bites her lip and her eyes dart back up at me.
“You’re almost legally intoxicated.”
“But I’m not,” I point out. “It’s only a few blocks.”
