Sweet Surrendering Page 9

  “Why couldn’t he just be a regular guy? Why does he have to be my secretary?” I said, peering into my empty wineglass.

  “Don’t you mean sexcretary?” Sloane said with a giggle. Two seconds later I joined her and we all giggled helplessly.

  “You should make him take a memo,” Chloe added, and even though it wasn’t that funny, we burst further into hysterics over it and then we started with an endless string of dirty office jokes.

  “You should ask him if he’ll put his file in your credenza!”

  “Defrag your lady system!”

  “Put his spam in your inbox!”

  After a while we were all laughing so hard that there were tears and we were all gasping and rolling on the floor and I knew that my stomach, in addition to my back (from the vigorous table sex) was going to be sore tomorrow.

  “Ass-istant!”

  And we were off again.

  Chloe had decided to crash on our couch, and getting her up was a chore, even when I wasn’t a little hung over. Stupid wine.

  “Get up!” I had resorted to smashing her in the face with pillows. That girl slept like the dead. Seriously, sometimes I had to check her breathing to make sure she was still alive.

  She made a groaning sound and rolled off the couch. Well, that was a start.

  Sloane was hunched over the coffeepot like Golem over the Ring and she growled at me when I asked her for a cup. I was running late, but I didn’t care as much as I normally would have. There was that “almost late” period where if you hurried like a madwoman you could get there just a few seconds late and once you’ve passed that, you’re late, so fuck it. This was one of those mornings. I knew I was going to be at least ten minutes late, so I was going to have to text Lucas and let him know so he didn’t think I’d been hit by a taxi or something.

  In the harsh light of day, things were a little less funny. I couldn’t have a sexual relationship with Lucas. I’d been insane to even consider it for a moment. It was wrong, wrong, wrong.

  Running late. We need to talk when I get in. I hit Send and waited for a response.

  Don’t forget my cherry Danish.

  And that was it. I was left staring at my phone and thinking, once again, that boys are weird.

  All three of us managed to get our butts awake and ready to go to work. One of the upsides of having Sloane as a friend was that she ALWAYS had extra clothes around, so lucky Chloe didn’t have to do the walk of shame and instead got to go to her job as the manager of a spa looking like she just stepped off the runway.

  “Have a good day at work, dear,” Chloe said as I headed toward the T and she waved for a taxi.

  “You too. Call me later.”

  “Not if I call you first.” With a wink and a wave, she was off. Silly girl.

  I was about to head for the T, but then I realized I had to get Lucas’ stupid Danish, so I walked to the closest bakery and then grabbed a taxi.

  I was still late, and stressed about talking to Lucas. I wondered if his family called him Lucas. Or Luke. Or Luc. It was a nice name. Especially paired with Blaine. It had a great ring to it.

  “Is that my Danish?” The owner of the name with the great ring appeared in front of me as I’d been strolling to my office. Crap, I’d forgotten about him while I was thinking about his name. Which doesn’t make any sense, but there you have it.

  I held up the bag in front of him and gave him my best smile.

  “Your Danish, Mr. Blaine. And here is your coffee. Black. Like your soul.” Shit, I wasn’t supposed to be flirting with him. Bad Rory.

  “Thank you very much, Miss Clarke. I was informed by the message on my cellular phone that you wished to speak with me. Would you like to do that now, or would you like to finish your breakfast first?”

  Curse him and his adorableness.

  “I would like to finish my breakfast and then I will call you, Mr. Blaine,” I said before pivoting in my heel and walking to my office.

  I didn’t let myself laugh before I shut the door.

  Trouble. I was in trouble.

  NO. I was sticking to my guns. Standing my ground. Putting up walls and fences and slamming my legs shut. A chastity belt might be a good idea right about now.

  Sighing, I banged my head on the door. Why was this such a challenge? He was just a guy. Just a guy, like any other. Maybe if I pictured him with Hal Marksman’s belly that would turn me off.

  I closed my eyes and tried, but that just led to me picturing Lucas without his shirt and then I started thinking about his nipple ring and then I was a lost cause so I went to my desk, drank my coffee and ate my croissant. They were out of my donuts.

  I ate slowly and sipped my coffee slowly and went through my inbox and got started for my day slowly. I was putting off talking to Lucas. I even opened one of the presentations that I was required to study and approve and be able to discuss rather than talk to him.

  By 9:30, I realized I was becoming the equivalent of a kid hiding in the garage to avoid seeing her parents because she broke Grandma’s vase.

  I reached for the phone and dialed Lucas’ extension.

  “Hello, you’ve reached Aurora Clarke’s office, how may I direct your call?” He knew it was me. He could see it on the caller ID, but he was screwing with me.

  “Yes, would you mind stepping into my office for a moment, Mr. Blaine?”

  I could hear him smirking.

  “Yes, of course, Miss Clarke.” I hung up before he could say anything else and there was a knock a few moments later.

  “Come in.” He walked in with authority this time.

  “You said you wanted to see me?” He raised one eyebrow as if he thought this is going to turn into a sexfest on my desk. Think again.

  “Yes. I wanted to discuss the thing that happened in the conference room yesterday and to tell you that it’s not happening again. Ever.” I folded my arms and crossed my legs to emphasize that my body was in lockdown. I might want to get a blinking NO TOUCHING sign.

  He grinned at me, still thinking I was flirting. “Never, ever?”

  “Never, ever. It shouldn’t have happened the first time, or the second. It was wrong. Very wrong. So, from here on forward, there will be no touching, no licking, no kissing, no longing glances, no undressing via eye contact, no winking, smirking or lascivious stares of any kind. All of this,” I said, motioning to myself, “is off limits. Understand?”

  He stared at me for a moment as if he found me fascinating.

  “You’re so sexy when you think you’re in control,” he finally said.

  “No. I’m not sexy. I’m your boss. And you’re my employee, and any relationship other than a strictly professional one is against the code of conduct that we both signed. So enough of that. I’m not sexy.”

  “Yes, you are. You’ll always be sexy.” Ditto, buddy.

  “Well, I don’t know what to do about that, so you’re just going to have to deal. The only physical contact we will have from this moment on will be a cordial handshake.”

  He leaned back in his chair and the studious look got even more . . . studious.

  “Such a shame.” Lucas shook his head slowly back and forth, as if he was lamenting a great loss. “Well, if that’s how you want it, there’s nothing I can do to stop you. I’ll just take myself back to my desk.” He stood, but instead of moving toward the door, he came around the desk.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going back to my desk,” he said, as if I’d asked an insane question. I turned in my chair and he was leaning over me, both hands on the armrests of my chair. Seriously, what was happening?

  “This isn’t your desk,” I said, stating the obvious.

  “Oh, it’s not? I could have sworn my desk was around here somewhere. Perhaps you could . . . help me look for it?” He leaned closer and a smile danced across his lips.

  “Mr. Blaine, stop. You are doing exactly what I just told you not to do. Anyone could walk in. And it’s wrong. So—“ I was
cut off by his hand racing up my leg.

  “Is this my desk? Is it here? Or maybe it’s further up?” His hand goes higher and I grab his wrist to stop it from going under my dress. Maybe I should start wearing pants. Then he wouldn’t have such easy access. That chastity belt would also be a good idea right about now.

  “Stop.”

  He stared into me with those eyes and it was like he could see into every corner of me, to see the things I kept hidden, the things I didn’t talk about, the things I wanted to forget. And then he pulled his hand back and stood up.

  “I believe my desk is across the hall and I think I can find it on my own. I’ll send up a flare if I get lost.” Before I could respond, he was out the door and shutting it behind him.

  It was time to take more drastic action.

  “Sign this,” I said a half hour later as I slammed a few sheets of paper down on Mr. Blaine’s desk. He looked up in amused bewilderment.

  Damn. Even that was sexy. Picture the belly. Gross beer belly with a crooked penis and saggy ballsack hanging . . .

  Nope, still sexy.

  “To what do I owe the honor of you bringing this to my desk and delivering it personally?” He kept his voice low as one of the other executives walked by for a cup of coffee from the break room.

  “Read it. Sign it. Don’t speak of it again.” This time I was going to have the last word, so I stomped back to my office and purposefully left the door open to show him that I could do this. I could work in his vicinity without exploding into a lusty ball of . . . lust.

  I went to my desk and got back to my real job even though I could feel it whenever he glanced at me. I did NOT look at him. Not once. Because I was a goddamn professional.

  But then I had to look up when a paper airplane sailed through the air and landed perfectly on my desk. I snatched it and shot a glare in his direction but he was pretending he was busy with something.

  I unfolded the paper, which turned out to be the Code of Conduct that I’d written earlier.

  It was pretty lengthy, and added to my verbal list from earlier, greater defined what was off limits. He’d signed it, but folding it up into an airplane kind of defeated the purpose of that.

  I slid the paper back and forth on the edge of the desk to smooth out the creases and then took it and held it up for him to see while tore it in half and then tore it in smaller pieces and then shoved it in my paper shredder, hoping the sound carried to his desk. Then I pretended to dust my hands off and went to get some coffee, my chin in the air.

  “You didn’t think you were going to get off that easy, did you?” He was close, but not too close. Still, my skin shivered in response to his voice. Like I was a robot programmed to react to him. How had that happened so fast? The sex probably had a little something to do with it.

  I turned slowly, holding my coffee in front of me as if it could protect me. As a last resort, I could always throw it in his face, but that would probably result in a lawsuit.

  “Look. This,” I motion between us with the hand not holding the handle of the coffee cup, “can’t happen. Period. It’s best for both of us to just pretend nothing happened and move on. So, how are you coming with organizing those reports?”

  He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.

  “I’m having a little trouble with some because they’ve been updated and I don’t have access to the folders where they’re stored.”

  See? We could do this. We were talking about reports and I didn’t want to rip his pants off and mount him at all.

  Well, maybe just a little. Or a little-lot.

  “Hm, let me see what I can do about that. You’re still technically in training until your three week review and then you can ask for additional access, but maybe I can fast track that. I’ll talk with Mr. Clarke and see what I can do.” I always called my father Mr. Clarke in front of other people. I’d been doing it for so long that I was used to it.

  “Thank you, Miss Clarke, that would be fantastic.” He sounded completely unenthused.

  “Good. I’ll get right on that for you, Mr. Blaine. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He stepped around me and went for the Keurig without another word. Ugh. I wanted to smack him in the back of the head, but that wouldn’t be very professional, so I went back to my office and dialed my father’s extension.

  “Hey sweetheart, how are you?” I will always be my father’s little girl.

  “Hi Dad, I’m good. I’m actually calling you on official work business.”

  I proceeded to tell him about the issue with Mr. Blaine’s access issue.

  “Hmm, I’m not sure what I can do to speed that along. The auditors would have my hide if we didn’t follow our written procedure. Let me speak with Laurie and I’ll get back to you.” Laurie was basically the Chief Rule Follower and it was her job to make sure we all followed the bazillion rules that we had to follow to stay in business and not piss off the government.

  “Okay, great.” Despite working just down the hall from one another, we sometimes went an entire day without seeing each other.

  “So how is your new sidekick working out? It must be weird having someone other than Sal at that desk. I know it’s strange for me.”

  Oh, Dad. If you only knew.

  “He’s been great so far. Quick learner and he finishes everything before I even know I want it.” Mind out of the gutter, mind out of the gutter . . .

  “I’ve been meaning to have a chat with him myself, but I just haven’t gotten around to it. Why don’t you send him down this afternoon?”

  “Uh yeah, sure,” I answered before I thought about how bad an idea that was. Hopefully Mr. Blaine could keep everything on the down low.

  “There was one other thing I wanted to ask you about. Oh, remember how I asked you to look over those reports?”

  I had looked at them in any spare moment I had, but hadn’t come up with anything earth shattering. But, to be honest, I hadn’t looked all that hard. It had been low on my priority list.

  “Yeah, I haven’t found anything that stuck out.”

  “Hm. Okay. We’ll talk about it later. Listen, I have to get to a lunch, but I’ll see you later. Bye, sweetie.”

  “Bye, Dad. Have fun.”

  I hung up and I could feel that Mr. Blaine was back at his desk. I picked up the phone and dialed his extension. He looked across the hall at me and picked up the phone.

  “Hello, Aurora Clarke’s office. How may I direct your call?”

  “Hello, Mr. Blaine, this is Aurora Clarke. I just wanted to inform you that I have spoken with my father about your access issue and he is speaking to someone about it and will get back to me, and that he would also like to see you in his office this afternoon.” I could both see and hear him smiling.

  “You know what this reminds me off? Did you ever use two soup cans and a rope and make a telephone? My brothers and I used to do that . . .” he trailed off and it was almost like he’d blurted something out that he really wished he could reel back.

  “No, I never did that. But it sounds like fun.” Not that my childhood was un-fun, but that just wasn’t the kind of thing I did.

  “It was.” Okay, totally weird moment. We locked eyes as we both held the phones to our ears.

  He was the first to recover and clear his throat.

  “Well, thank you Miss Clarke for keeping me apprised. I appreciate it very much, and I will be sure to see him later.”

  “You’re welcome Mr. Blaine.” There was nothing else to say, but I didn’t seem to be able to hang the phone up.

  “You hang up,” Lucas said, and that made me smile.

  “No, you hang up.”

  “I asked you first.”

  “I’m your boss.”

  “Fair point.” Click. We both grinned like idiots at each other until someone walked by and broke our eye contact.

  I was nervous. I was nervous about meeting Fin for coffee. I mean, my palms weren’t sweating, but I was definitely nervous. I’d arrived tw
enty minutes early and I had already decided to order herbal tea because I was keyed up enough as it was.

  I chose a table near the front with a good view of the street so I could see him before he could see me. Between scanning the street for him and checking my phone to make sure he hadn’t texted or called to cancel, I whiled away the time. And then it was five minutes until our meeting and I saw a man with dark wavy hair and a familiar nose stroll up the sidewalk and walk into the café.

  Holy. Hell.

  The scrawny guy with the greasy hair and the once-crooked teeth had undergone a transformation worthy of that television show that gives ridiculous makeovers. His blue eyes scanned the shop, and I pretended to be engrossed with my phone. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him see me and start to walk over.

  “Rory?” I look up and it wasn’t hard to put on a shocked face. He was even more . . . wow, up close.

  “Fin? Is that you?” Even back in the day, he’d towered over me. Now he was even more . . . formidable.

  “It’s me,” he said, holding his arms out and then wrapping me in a hug. Whoa. I wasn’t much of a hugger when it came to people I didn’t know well, but I was forced to submit to it anyway until he let me go. He must have seen my hug reluctance.

  “Oh, sorry. I’m kind of a hugger.”

  “It’s fine. No big deal. Do you want to sit?”

  “Have you gotten anything yet? What would you like?”

  “Um, whatever they have for decaf tea is fine. And maybe a scone or something?” I started to rummage in my purse for some cash.

  “It’s on me. Be right back.” He whisked away before I could stop him.

  Hey, I tried.

  I watched him as he ordered and flirted with the girl who wrote his name on our cups and waited for our orders. He definitely wasn’t clumsy anymore. He’d grown into his body and he clearly knew how to use it.

  What had my parents gotten me into?

  I had to look back at my phone again so he wouldn’t catch me watching him.

  “Here you go, ma’am. Decaf peach tea and a cranberry scone.” I took the tea and sipped it, burning my tongue.