by Mackenzy Fox
He laughs out loud. “Wow, is that a new record?”
“This woman is infuriating, you’ve no idea.”
“Come on, use your Westbrook charms, if that fails, offer to bone her, it’s worked for you before.”
If only life were so simple.
“Trust me,” I say. “Even if I did want to, which I don’t, there wouldn’t be enough money in the world to go down that road, plus you’d have to get past her P.A., her therapist, and her tennis coach before even hinting at first base.”
“Look on the bright side, at least you won’t get fired over lack of performance,” he goes on. He does not sound at all sympathetic to my problem.
“Ha-ha very funny, there’s nothing wrong in that department. Speaking of which, you free Sunday night? I need to let off some steam.”
“Yeah, because Sunday’s a great pick-up night,” he remarks sarcastically. “I’m free if you wanna grab a beer and tell me all your problems, I’ll promise to pretend to listen.”
“My only problem right now is controlling her.”
“Jesus, Jax, you losing your touch, old boy?”
“She’s got more bitch faces than I’ve had hot dinners, I’m gonna get whiplash from the mood swings. One minute, she’s trying to suck up, the next she wants to cut my balls off.”
“This is the girl from high school, right?” he clarifies. “The one you had a major crush on and she dumped your ass.”
“The very one,” I sigh. “Though she didn’t dump me, I never made it that far.”
“Ouch, maybe she does really still hate you.”
“That’s obvious,” I grumble.
“You just have to do what you do best, that’s all there is to it.”
“I can’t do that; I can’t get involved with a client.” I know very well what he means, just because oral skills are my specialty doesn’t mean jack shit. “Plus, I prefer my women to be compliant and up for it, it kind of helps.”
“I meant be dark and broody, you do that really well and chicks love that shit, show her who’s boss and who’s wearing the pants… that’s you by the way.”
Now he’s a comedian.
“That’s great advice, asshole; you got any other words of wisdom, Obi-Wan?” I mock.
Nothing is ever going to be simple as long as I’m here as her hired help.
“I just don’t get to see someone under your skin like this,” he admits, sounding a little bit pleased. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Well, if you’re done insulting me, I’ve got work to do.”
“Don’t sulk,” he replies in a condescending tone. “It kind of makes you look less manly with a dragging bottom lip.”
“Go fuck yourself,” I say in all seriousness.
He laughs.
I watch as Morgan gets up from her computer and glances over to me, then she rounds her desk and heads my way.
“The dragon is on her way,” I mutter. “I gotta go.”
“Establish if she’s got some cute friends,” he adds quickly. “If you want my help.”
“You’re still coming,” I retort. “I am, after all, still the one paying your wages as far as I’m aware.”
“Have I ever let you down before?” he asks and I know he’s going to be all over this on Saturday. I mentally groan. I need him sharp and on his game, not trying to hook up with Morgan’s buddies.
“Bring your umbrella,” I reply before Morgan knocks and I give her a chin lift to allow her to come in. I hang up and slide my phone on the desk.
She comes into my office in her little grey skirt suit that’s hot as fuck. Today, she has the whole sexy secretary thing going on and she’s nailed it. She wears a black-rimmed pair of reading glasses and her hair is in a mid-length swinging ponytail tied with a fucking ribbon; I imagine wrapping my hand around it and pulling her head back…
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says, disturbing my wayward thoughts, though she doesn’t seem all that sorry. She’s probably wondering why I’m not packing my bags, after all, she did try to fire me.
“It’s fine, what’s up?”
“Did you find out anything from your coffee expedition this morning?” she enquires, though I know that’s not the reason she’s in here. I don’t know where this is headed but we’re off and running.
“You came all the way in here to ask me that?”
“No, I came all the way in here to say there’s a dude called Ryan down in the front foyer. Apparently, he’s on night shift.”
I make eye contact deliberately. “I’m the only one on night shift or who has access to the apartment. He’s obviously mistaken,” I tell her in no uncertain terms.
She can make of that what she wants but I want it real clear, he watches her alone on Sundays and I’m back by Sunday evening.
I don’t get why it’s any of her concern though, he’s not in the way, in fact, I’m getting a short temper myself on her questioning everything. My fuse is only so long and I feel it sizzling away little by little and it’s gonna get to the end of the string real fast.
“He’ll be up to meet you shortly.”
She seems different, almost… passive, or something I don’t quite recognize.
I wait in anticipation for what she’s about to say next.
“Listen, maybe we got off on the wrong foot?” she blurts out eventually, her gaze goes to the floor. This is hard for her, resorting to contriteness. I wonder what comes next, flattery?
“Oh, how so?” I reply. I don’t plan on making any of this easy for her; she hasn’t exactly made my life a picnic so far.
“With… our past,” she replies quietly. I know she’s been thinking about it. “And all of that…”
“I told you to forget about it.” Now it’s my turn to act annoyed. “I have, it’s ancient history.”
“But have you… have you really?” she asks, and it feels like she wants me to forgive her or something. I’m not a goddamn priest, I can’t offer any absolution.
“Yes.” I lie. Well, I’ll never forget but she doesn’t need to know that. “What’s this about, really Morgan? I’m very busy here trying to organize the benefit.”
She narrows her eyes ever so slightly at my tone.
“I know what you’re doing,” she says suddenly.
I sit back and raise my hands behind my head as I watch her steadily. This should be good.
“Oh, really, and what’s that? Aside from trying to do my job.”
She shakes her head. “You’re punishing me for what I did in high school.”
I roll my eyes very deliberately. “Are you still going on about that? You really need to let it go once and for all but it seems you can’t, I barely remember what you’re even referring to, most of my memories of high school I’ve kind of blotted out or long forgotten, so maybe you should do the same.”
“If I thought you really meant that…”
“What do you want me to say?” I fire back. “Tell me.”
“That you forgive me for that day…”
So, that is what this is all about.
She’s so uncomfortable and I know why. The day I got tripped in front of the entire school and fell flat on my face, got laughed at, and she completely ignored me, treated me like a piece of dirt on her shoe. It’s stupid and it was a long time ago, but the humiliation still renders me powerless even to this day.
“Well, I forgive you, are we good now?” I can’t help but be abrupt with her; I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Most of my childhood remains forever scarred and etched in my brain.
She stares at me, not backing down. “Why did you take this job, Jaxon?”
Three million dollars, I want to say. And yeah, maybe I was a little intrigued by the idea of her at first, but it was mainly the money.
“It’s what I do, MJ, I get paid to make sure people are safe, and if someone like your father needs you safe, then I’d say there’s a very good reason for it.” I go to stand and she takes a step back as I tower over
her. “So, why don’t you just turn that finger around and stop busting my balls and let me get on with it? I told you before that this won’t work unless we find a little give and take.”
She may breathe fire, it wouldn’t surprise me. I’m guessing nobody stands up to little miss prim and proper, well I’ve got news for her. She takes another step back and I take one forward so we’re still toe to toe. It doesn’t escape me that her breath hitches in her chest.
It’s then it hits me, but it makes no sense… no sense whatsoever.
Is she attracted to me?
In some weird fucked-up kind of way. I tend to know the signs real well, yet with her, nothing is ever as it seems. Maybe I need to get off my high horse, or maybe I am actually right.
I ponder this for a moment while she stares back at me, for once lost for words it seems, that’s a first.
Does she feel it too? The electricity that runs between us?
Fuck. I don’t want this.
Maybe I’m getting cabin fever; it has been over a week now and I’m a sexual kind of guy.
I take another indulgent moment as I imagine her soft, pink lips kissing my skin all the way down my chest towards my belt buckle. Would she fumble or would she go right in for the kill? Either way, I shouldn’t be thinking it but I can’t help letting my mind wander where it wants to go. I wonder if she likes being in control, I bet she does, or is she one of those submissive types in the bedroom who wants to be dominated? Fucked if I know.
Maybe I need to start drinking on the job.
“You can’t talk to me like that,” she says eventually, but even to her, it must sound half-hearted.
I smirk. “I actually can and I just did, so there’s no point running off to Daddy to complain or moan about it, let’s just face it; it seems like you and me are just stuck with each other.”
Yeah, babe, I know all about your little phone call to Daddy and I’m not impressed, not one little bit.
My eyes move to her lips and I know that she can’t deny the electricity running between us, and for some sadistic reason, I want her to know. I feel my balls tighten and my appendage twitch. This is not how I wanted this to go, I do not want to have my dick hard for Morgan fucking James.
“This isn’t some game and we’re not back in high school,” I counter. “So, let me just do my job without arguments and attitude, okay?”
She opens her mouth in shock then closes it again, she glares at me because I refuse to be her little puppy dog and she knows it. I can speak to her however I like, John doesn’t give a shit as long as I’m by her side, and she knows that now too because I’m still here.
“You really are a douche bag, you know that, Westbrook? And here I was thinking we could share some common ground.”
Ha, like she’d know the meaning of the word.
I let my lips curve into a smile. “I see we’ve progressed to last names, very well, James, so be it, I may live up to my nickname but I’ll still be the one keeping you safe, no matter what you throw at me.”
“Because it’s your job, right?” she sneers. This is what she does when confronted, turns on the snarks and goes from hot to cold.
“Exactly, now we’re both on the same page, perhaps you’ll cut me a little slack?”
She snorts. “Where would the fun be in that?”
I’m sadly mistaken if I thought this was going to be fun, oh no, I know she’s a loaded freight train and she’s hell-bent on making it known.
Maybe I could have cut her some slack when she tried to make amends but it’s really better if she keeps on hating me, even if it makes me want to go knock the living daylights out of my punching bag or my fighting opponent. I’ve brought this on myself for even being stupid enough to take this gig on, now I have to see it through. And I also have to stop fantasizing about her and skirt suits and my hand twisting in her hair. Not going to happen ever in this lifetime.
She turns and stomps out of the office in a flurry with her tight little ass in her tight little skirt as I give her a mental middle finger, hell, I give her two.
This week is gonna be the hardest of my life and it’s only Tuesday.
8
Morgan
The new guy, Ryan, tails me most of Wednesday, it seems Jaxon needs a break from me. Good, I need it too after my apology gone wrong, though talking to my father had the opposite effect. He actually had the nerve to call me a petulant child and if I spent as much time working on my business plan as I did complaining, then I’d be a multi-millionaire in my own right about now. Hence why I tried a different tact with Jaxon and that backfired too. Now everyone’s mad at me. I can’t win.
I used to be the apple of my father’s eye, my how the mighty have fallen.
Even my staff think Jaxon’s great, but that’s mostly all the females who swoon every time he walks by. Someone should have told them not to judge a book by its cover, there are many layers to Jaxon Westbrook and he has murky traits that are not flattering, including rudeness and arrogance. Maybe he thinks now he’s all that, so therefore, he has the upper hand, one thing’s for sure and that’s Mac would never speak to me the way he does. Here is Jaxon basically telling me to go take a running jump off a cliff and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. My father is completely under his spell.
Jolie buzzes my intercom, making me jump out of my reverie. I have a very important business meeting with Elliott Nelson who runs a very successful chain of gymnasiums; he needs someone to redevelop his websites, including a new logo design, graphics, and a photoshoot. We do it all, anything the client wants, we can get, oversee, and manage, and my team are the best. My associate, Lori, would normally join me for such a high-profile meeting like this but she’s come down with the flu, leaving me one person down and only my new intern, Marcus, to help and note take. It’ll be good experience for him.
Elliott Nelson is well-known and it’s clear he has tickets on himself, but then again, most meatheads do spend half the day in the gym.
I only wish I could concentrate, and I should be able to, this is a huge contract for the business, however, my mind, like it has been for days, is distracted by Jaxon and our confrontation.
Instead of listening to Elliot spouting white noise about all the latest state of the art machines he has and how great they are, my mind wanders wayward all by itself…
My father must be paying Jaxon handsomely, that’s all I can say. He won’t even fire him.
My apology meant nothing but I know he’s lying about being over it, and the way he backed me out of the room… in my own goddamn office!
I have to admit that life back then was really bad, especially for him, it was awful, kids were cruel and mean. Most of it scars you for life, that’s if you get out alive to tell the tale and I was one of the lucky ones, Jaxon not so much.
Many incidents still haunt me, but especially the day I betrayed him and didn’t help him, he saw me walk away as he lay there helpless and embarrassed. Shame fills me as I think about it and it’s as vivid as if it just happened yesterday.
I have nobody to blame but myself, Carly may have been the leader of the mean girl gang but I still played a part, I partook in it willingly.
I wish I could turn back time.
My mind wanders to Brandon Thomas. My life changed the night of prom, it’s amazing how one small incident can actually disrupt you for the rest of your life and affect you forever. If I could wind back time, I’d do everything so differently, but nobody has the luxury of hindsight in advance.
I focus back on what Elliott’s saying and I know I’m not giving him my whole undivided attention, so I turn on the famous James charm and wow him with my sales pitch, I also have a series of slide shows ready that our website developer has been working on. Landing this account will be a major boost to the business, not to mention more P.R. as Elliott knows a lot of people in the industry and this can only open more doors for us.
After a successful hour-long meeting with a lot of questions and e
ven more changes, Elliott tells me we have the account… he wants to use us. Not only that, but he wants us to do a grand tour of his premises; he has no fewer than twelve gyms in New York alone and wants to expand across the country, his next stop is L.A, then Vegas.
We’ll have the contract drawn up by tomorrow. He’s keen to have dinner and discuss everything in more detail. Even though I know he has a major wandering eye and could smooth talk his way into anything, this is strictly business. I let Jolie liaise with the date and time next week so we can meet up.
When I get back to my office, my phone vibrates and I see Dixie is calling me.
“Hey, girlfriend,” I say chirpily, I’ve almost got a spring in my step today. “Guess who just landed the Elliott Nelson account?”
“You didn’t?” she says, I can tell by her voice she’s stuffing something into her mouth, eating on the fly again, I know the feeling. “Way to go, tiger!”
“I know, I’m so excited, I can’t wait to tell the team, we’ve worked so hard on this.”
“How’s everything else?” she drawls and I know exactly what she’s referring to.
“If you mean ‘how’s Jaxon Westbrook?’, it’s about the same as taking a sharp pencil and stabbing it into your eye repeatedly and not being able to do a thing about it.”
She has the audacity to giggle. “You’re so dramatic, Morgan.”
“No, I think he just brings out the worst in me,” I admit. “Kind of like when you drink too much cheap wine and it goes straight to your head.”
“We so have to do lunch this week.”
“You mean we so have to do lunch this week so I can perve on your bodyguard?”
I swing around in my chair and sit back. Though lunch is a great idea, I deserve a slap-up meal after working so hard.
“That’s exactly what I meant,” she replies nonchalantly. “What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t make vulgar insinuations while also making sure he’s got your best interests at heart?”
Of course, I already know the answer to that one. “Trust me, he doesn’t, all he’s interested in is looking at his own reflection in the mirror.”
