Chapter 17
STEPHANIE
“Would you stop pacing and just call him already?” Tiana asked, sitting cross-legged on my bed and clearly getting annoyed by my nerves.
It was deadline-day for my decision. Monday morning. And I still wasn’t sure if I knew what the right thing to do was. I’d been pacing the length of my bedroom floor for an hour, but I couldn’t bring myself to make the call.
“The carpet can handle it,” I snapped, staring down at the phone in my hand. “But if you can’t, then leave. You don’t have to watch me. This lamb can lead herself to the slaughter, thank you very much.”
Tiana threw her hands up in frustration. “I’m finding it hard to feel sorry for the lamb when the slaughter comes with health insurance, a nice salary bump, and all those other perks in those papers you brought home.”
She motioned to the stack of paperwork lying on the bed beside her, the Williams Inc logo embossed onto the top of every page. I cringed when I looked at it, wondering if I was supposed to frame it or something. “God, even their stationery is intimidating.”
“In a good way,” Tiana said. She grabbed the sheet on top and held it up. “Just look at that. One call and you could be working for a company who can afford paper more expensive per sheet than most of the jewelry we buy online.”
“Then you see the problem.” Damn. Why was my voice so squeaky? I cleared my throat, trying to get a hold of my nerves. “What happens if I accidentally print something wrong and I have to redo it? You can’t make mistakes with paper like that, Tee.”
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, then dropped them to mine. “I hardly think they care about reprints. Mr. Williams is a billionaire. Not a millionaire, a billionaire.”
“Probably because he doesn’t employ people who make mistakes when they print onto paper like that.” I flopped onto the bed next to Tiana, letting my phone fall to the mattress. “What am I doing thinking I could be a secretary to Jeremiah Williams? I have no clue what people like his secretary even do. Except that they probably don’t do him, which is the other problem.”
“Have you even remembered any of the headlines about him back in the day?” she asked. “The guy has done half of the damn city. And you’ll figure out what to do once you get there, I’m sure.”
The reminder about those long-forgotten headlines made an unreasonable stab of jealousy pierce through me. “And if I don’t want to be part of that half of the city?”
“Stop lying.” She wadded up a piece of paper on my nightstand and threw it playfully at my chest. “Isn’t that the problem? That you do want to be part of that half of the city? Besides, we’ve covered this. Strong, resistant woman with panties of steel, remember?”
“Shut up.” I scrunched my face at her. She knew she was right, I didn’t have to admit to being wrong. “I know I said the panties of steel thing yesterday when we talked about this, but they’re not really made of steel. They could just walk themselves right out of his office if he gets too close to me.”
“So buy a portable perimeter alarm.”
I giggled. Like an actual, nervous giggle. So not me. “And what? Set it to go off if Jeremiah gets within touching distance?”
“Maybe more if he’s as tall as you say. You don’t want him to be able to reach your panties before the alarm goes off.” She laughed, laying back on the bed with me. “Also, you might need to wait until your first paycheck before you buy the thing. I don’t know much about gadgets, but that could get expensive.”
I groaned, throwing my arm across my eyes. “If only it was that easy. I’m pretty sure my brain would interpret the alarm as the go signal. Seriously, that man does things to me.”
“No,” Tiana corrected. “You wish he would do things to you.”
With a louder groan, I rolled off the bed. “Exactly, which is why this is a bad idea. If I really had panties made of steel, maybe. Without them, I’m doomed.”
“Doomed might be a strong word in this context,” Tiana said, lips pulling into a grin. “Fucked would be much more accurate.”
“Metaphorically?” I asked hopefully.
She laughed again and shook her head. “Whichever way you want it to be.”
“Why couldn’t he just be old? Or really ugly? Or just like every other guy who’s hot, but you can look at him and be like ‘well, I would’ve done you if things were different’?”
“He could be like that,” she said. “All you have to do is look at him and think ‘well, I would’ve done you if things were different.’ Simple as that. Problem solved, now call the rich bastard and tell him you’ll take the job.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re pushy?”
Tiana pressed her lips together, her eyes shining with amusement. “You know, I have this one friend who tells me that all the time. She’s about your height. Name’s Stephanie. Oh wait, that’s you. Call him, distracting me isn’t going to work.”
“But I can keep trying.” I pointed out the window. “Is that Superman?”
She shrugged, keeping her eyes on mine. “Unless it’s Super-Orgasm man, he’s not getting an ounce of my attention until you’ve made that call.”