by R. S. Elliot
“So soon, I know. But I thought it would be best to get the ball rolling as soon as possible. How are you?”
The segue from business to personal was abrupt, I knew, and I winced a little as I took another sip of my wine, but Emily didn’t seem to care.
“Oh, I’m fine. Thank you!”
“Good good. Listen, I was thinking you and I might be able to work together on a photography project tomorrow morning.”
“Oh! Uh, wow, that would be great. Definitely. Do you want me to bring over my equipment, or?”
“Yes, but feel free to keep it as simple as you like. We won’t be doing a huge editorial shoot or anything like that. I would like us to get a sense of the space together and of each other. As photographer and subject,” I added quickly, not wanting to hint at impropriety. As thrilled as I was about being alone with Emily, I wouldn’t force anything she didn’t want, and I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable coming to my office for a private photography session.
“That sounds perfect. When do you want me?”
It took every ounce of restraint in my body to not say “all the time.” Instead, I said,
“6 am tomorrow. Sharp, I shouldn’t have to add. I don’t like tardiness.”
“Of course,” she said, in that eager, breathy way that drove me mad without her even trying.
“I’ll warn you this probably won’t be a very easy job,” I said, a little more gently. “I’ve been told I’m an obstinate subject to photograph. I move around a lot and have all sorts of opinions.”
Emily laughed on the other end of the phone. It was a crystalline, clear sound, so musical I could hardly believe she was just a college girl and not some old Hollywood starlet giving her best performance.
“I’ll bet you’re not as bad as some kids I photographed with the Easter Bunny at the mall last year. You haven’t seen chaos until you’ve seen that.”
This brought a smile to my lips. It felt good, to have her voice pressed against my ear in the privacy of my dim kitchen. I wondered where she was on the other end, if she was standing somewhere in her apartment or lounging in bed. Fleeting thoughts of Emily scantily clad cooling herself off in front of a fan or soaking in a bubble bath with her hair twisted up flashed through my mind. I tried to press them down, as mouth-watering as they were. I had to keep this as professional as possible, even if I was using my leverage as Emily’s boss to get closer to her. Closer to her did not mean on top of her. Not unless she wanted that or any other position she might prefer.
“I’m sure I haven’t. I’m happy you’re on board with trying something new, Emily. I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow morning.”
“Same here! Thank you for the opportunity, uh...” She fumbled over my name, and I smiled.
“Luke. I’m not very formal with employees I work closely with.”
“Luke, got it,” she said, and I’m sure my voice had never sounded better coming out of a beautiful woman’s mouth. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Emily.”
Our call disconnected with a quiet click, and it left me in stunned silence in my kitchen. I couldn’t remember the last time I had gotten so worked up over someone. She barely had to do anything other than exist, and I was in knots, unable to sit still until I saw her again or spoke to her.
Her ghost seemed to follow me through the halls of my apartment as I wrapped up my workday and flipped on the hot water in my shower. Everything, from the smell of her perfume to the way her lips curved into a nervous smile slipped in and out of my thoughts, intoxicating me entirely.
When I stepped into the shower, and the water hit my back, I almost felt as though her arms were encircling me from behind, as though her lips were pressing light kisses between my shoulder blades. It was so easy to imagine her hands traveling over my stomach, past my navel, and lower and lower, until…
I groaned and flipped the shower onto a cold setting, shuddering as reality hit me in an icy burst. What on earth had I gotten myself into here?
Chapter Eight
Emily
There was almost nothing that could get me excited about hauling my half-conscious body out of bed at the crack of dawn, but I woke up on the day of my photography session with SkyBlue’s CEO feeling rested, electric even. I laid out my camera and outfit the night before, which had taken a very long time. As I deliberated between heels or flats, a red dress or a green one, I wondered why I cared so much. My stomach was doing somersaults like I was getting ready for a first date, not a photography session. I had done plenty of these before, with smiling toddlers and newly engaged couples and high school graduates. So what was different here?
Luke. Luke Thorpe was different.
I tried not to think about the way he made me feel while I applied my lipstick. Tried to ignore the way every nerve in my body stood at attention when he looked at me or the way the sound of his voice over the phone had sent a pleasant little shudder through me the night before. This was business, the important kind. I had to keep it professional, but it was so hard not to let my mind wander when he spoke in that commanding tone.
I tried to put the inappropriate thoughts out of my mind as I made the brisk 5 am walk to my subway station, but it proved difficult. Thoughts of Luke’s breath on my neck invaded my mind while I fumbled through my purse for my metro card, and I could almost feel him sliding his hands through my hair as I rocked along with the underground rhythm of the subway. This would not work. If I couldn’t keep it together for this fantastic opportunity, there was no way I was making it through this summer job, much less make it to Paris.
I almost darted from the subway stop exit across from SkyBlue straight into the office, but then I glanced down at my watch and realized I still had twenty-five minutes. My eyes drifted to the coffee shop on the corner where I had been sent by Olivia the day before. If I hurried, I could bring Luke his coffee order and still make it to our meeting with time to spare.
So, twelve minutes later I was riding the elevator up to Luke’s office with my camera bag slung over my shoulder and a custom espresso in my hands, trying not to sweat through my thin blouse. Luke hadn’t been lying about us getting an early start. No one else, not even the most over-eager office climbers, were at their desks at not-quite six in the morning. I stifled a yawn as I waited outside his door, then knocked three times, as I had seen Olivia do.
“Come in,” Luke said, and my heart fluttered.
I pressed in with what I hoped was a bright and winning smile and carefully closed the door behind me. Luke was seated at his desk, looking as severe and intimidating as always in a finely cut slim grey suit, his hair swept back from his face. There weren’t any papers on his desk, and his computer monitor displayed a screensaver, no email or sales reports. Had he just been waiting for me to arrive? I wasn’t late, was I?
Nerves flooded my system, knocking down any reckless confidence I had talked myself into on the elevator ride up.
“Good morning,” I said as brightly as I could, moving across the room to him.
“Good morning,” he replied levelly, taking me in with an arched brow. I adjusted the camera bag on my shoulder, hoping he wasn’t regretting his decision to let me photograph him after he saw how small my equipment bag was. The camera had been a gift from my father before he died, and though I treasured it, I knew the trusty Nikon I learned to shoot on was outmoded and hadn’t been professional grade, to begin with. Still, I had got a lot of use out of it over the years, and I hoped the results would banish any doubts Luke was having now.
“Sleep well?” I asked, as I set down the equipment bag on the side table near the cluster of chairs and unpacked my lenses. It sounded forced and awkward coming out of my mouth, especially since I wasn’t in the habit of discussing personal things with the boss I had only met yesterday, but I knew that making conversation was key. You had to put the client at ease and make them feel like they weren’t being arranged and studied. They needed to forget they were be
ing photographed. This was the part of the job that required the most finesse, and a skill most hobbyists never developed.
“No, actually,” he said thoughtfully. I could feel his eyes on my back, warm and heavy, and I was grateful that he couldn’t see the flush that was crawling up my chest and peeking out of my neckline.
“Bad dreams?”
“Not bad. I was just restless.”
“That’s a shame,” I said lightly, knowing that I probably shouldn’t pry anymore. This uncharted territory between Luke and I was unsteady. Did we have some kind of personal relationship now, the kind he had with Olivia? Or did he invite employees in before office hours for personal projects with no intention of getting to know them better? With Luke Thorpe, it was hard to say.
I turned back towards him, slotting a lens onto my camera. I didn’t know where to look. Looking him straight in the face was sure to make my heart pound, but I had to look at him to photograph him properly.
“So, um... What sort of photographs did you have in mind?”
“Nothing special. If we could get a couple of shots of me in the office to have on hand when someone asks for a press release, it would save me a lot of headache in the future. It doesn’t have to be anything too creative, just professional.”
I had suspected something like this but hoped he would come prepared with more specifics. A shoot in which I had free range was exciting; it gave me almost unlimited options. But it was also terrifying because, well... I had unlimited options. All the power was in my hands. The choices mine to make about how I wanted him positioned, lit, and captured by my camera.
My hands started to sweat around my Nikon.
“I’d like to do a couple of test shots first,” I said, trying to sound confident. “If that’s alright.”
“By all means. I’m at your disposal.”
I swallowed hard. He hadn’t moved at all and was still seated at his desk, looking like one of those beautiful busts of Roman emperors they had at the Met, but in a suit. His bearing had the strange ability to unsettle me and put me at ease at the same time. I felt like I had known him for much longer than the few minutes we shared in the elevator and his office. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? I hadn’t met Luke before last week. Maybe it was all the editorial shoots I had seen of his square-jawed profile gazing out into the middle distance.
I snapped a few experimental photographs of him at his desk, experimenting with the lighting and color balance until I remembered the peace offering I had almost forgotten. I quickly plucked up the still-hot cup of coffee and set it on the edge of Luke’s desk. In addition to giving him something to drink while I adjusted my settings between photographs, I thought the branded paper cup from a local chain gave the office a lived-in, authentic feeling. It would make the pictures look like a true slice-of-life like I had caught him in the middle of an average morning.
Luke glanced down at the coffee cup, his dark eyebrows drawing together slightly.
“What’s that?”
“It’s your espresso order. I picked it up on the way into work this morning, and I thought it might be—”
“I didn’t ask for it.”
His voice was flat, more confused than angry, but I could tell I had displeased him. I stood awkwardly with the camera between my hands, looking at the coffee and then him. I knew that he had a reputation for being particular, but this seemed a little ridiculous. I was at his office at six in the morning, and I brought him coffee out of the goodness of my heart. Even if he didn’t want it, I felt like a simple thank you was in order.
“Um,” I said, trying to keep my voice level and polite. “I know, but it’s early, and I thought you might want a cup of coffee for our session. These things can be long and boring.”
“I don’t have my espresso until the afternoon,” he said, and plucked up the cup without another word and discarded it into the waste bin near his desk. I felt like the cup dropped with a heavy thud into my stomach instead of the trash can, and my face flushed in anger. Genius CEO or not, that was a spoiled, petty thing to do.
“Alright, fine,” I muttered, seething to myself as I looked back down at my camera. It had broken my concentration, and I couldn’t remember what settings I already altered.
“Sorry, have I upset you?” Luke asked. I glanced up to him in disbelief. He rose from his seat and was leaning against the desk lazily now, the way he had been when he had called me back into his office yesterday. His presence filled the room.
I knew I should bite back my irritation and insist that everything was fine, that nothing was wrong. But despite how grateful I was for this opportunity, Luke Thorpe had been playing my nerves like violin strings for days now, and I was getting sick and tired of it. I couldn’t read him, couldn’t anticipate his movements, and certainly couldn’t predict what he would do or say next. He was probably like this with everyone, but I didn’t appreciate his erratic behavior.
“That’s sort of wasteful, don’t you think?”
Luke quirked an eyebrow at me. “I don’t really care about waste.”
“I see.”
I turned back to my camera, willing myself to shut up and get on with the shoot before I got myself fired. But Luke wasn’t done with me yet. He straightened and took a few steps closer, out of my frame and into my personal space.
“If you can’t handle the stress of this job, I’m happy to find someone else who can. There’s no shame in not being up to something, just say the word, and I won’t waste any more of your time.”
Anger rose in my throat.
“I want this position, and I’m prepared for it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I will not beg if that’s where you’re going. Listen, I’m happy to run errands and make copies and take pictures and do anything else that you want, but you have to work with me for this whole project to work. If you’re going to be condescending, I’m going to get hurt, and I don’t think I need to apologize for that.”
I could barely believe the words flying out of my mouth, but my thinned patience had snapped under the strain of too many hours on the subway, too many new tasks at work, and not enough sleep. I knew I was just an intern, but I felt like I deserved a little respect.
Emotions I couldn’t name flashed behind Luke’s eyes, too fast for me to pin down. He was standing very close to me now, and I realized I must have drifted closer to him during my angry diatribe. His eyes were green, very green, with tiny flecks of black that seemed so familiar to me; it made a chill run down my spine.
“I don’t think this is going to work,” he said, voice sounding a little tight. “Thank you for your time, Emily, and your willingness to take on another project. I realize I’ve asked too much of you, and you’re welcome to resume your normal workday duties.”
“What? Why? I didn’t say I couldn’t do this, I know my abilities and I think this is a good idea for both of us so why won’t you let me—”
“This isn’t a conversation.”
“It is now. You’re pushing me,” I said, something close to a threat rising in my voice as I stared him down, cheeks on fire.
“I am,” he said. His eyes were dark, hungry, pinning me in place. The air felt scorching hot despite the AC unit whirring in the corner.
“Why?”
“To see what you’ll do.”
His words rung in my ears, and my mouth felt dry. Before I knew what I was doing, I was closing the gap between us. My body moving faster than my mind could process, heat tingling inside every part of me. This was forbidden, but anger and desire were swirling around together in my chest so powerfully that I thought I would burst if I didn’t do anything about it.
I tilted my face up into his defiantly, and before I had an opportunity to do or say anything else, Luke Thorpe caught my face in his hands and kissed me.
The pressure was intense, the sudden warmth of him and scrape of his stubble against my cheek almost overpowering. He kissed me with such passionate intensity that I
could hardly breathe. I clung to the shoulders of his suit jacket and tried to keep up with him, my head spinning. I could barely remember my own name, or that this man was my boss and we should certainly not be doing this. Certainly not on company time. Instead, I kissed him, making a little pleasured noise when his hand cupped my chin, and his tongue scorched against my own. This, I decided, was definitely worth getting fired for.
Suddenly Luke broke away, severing our kiss. He was still clutching me tightly, his fingers curled around my upper arms exposed by my short-sleeved dress, but he held me almost at arm’s length. I was panting, and his face was a torrent of dark emotion.
“Emily,” He said, and the rasp of desire in his voice flooded my body with arousal all over again.
“I,” I began unsteadily. The room was spinning, but as it slowly came to a stop, a horrible feeling of cold regret took over. “Oh God. I... I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize; it’s my fault.”
His fault? Had he suspected something like this would happen? That didn’t make any sense; I thought the overheated fantasies I had of Luke pressing me against elevator walls lived entirely in my mind.
“I’m your employer,” he said, still strained. His mouth was flushed from being crushed against mine and was so tempting to look at that I had to tear my eyes away. “This is a breach of ethics; I can’t-—”
“I know,” I said, nodding vigorously. Even though he was taking the blame, I somehow felt like I should be the one in trouble. But he didn’t seem angry with me at all. “I know. It can never happen again. It won’t. We were just both…”
“Stressed,” he finished, in the voice of a man who was used to making executive decisions in crises. His hands disappeared from my arms and were now straightening his tie. “And sleep deprived.”
“Right. Of course. Listen, I’m just going to gather up my things and get out of your hair…”
“There’s no need for that now,” Luke said with a chuckle. The sound was a low, warm rumble that made me want him even more. He seemed amused that I thought I could just run away and leave whatever electric moment had transpired between us behind like he knew better than I that there was no forgetting this. He leaned back against his desk, hip at an angle, suit fitting him even better somehow now that it was slightly askew. “You were right, I was pushing you earlier, but I want you on this project if you can handle it. I’m happy to get back to business if you are.”
