Bad Teacher - Page 87

I snigger to myself.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I lie.

“Are you being sassy, Miss Fischer?” he asks, cocking his head at me.

“No, of course not. What do you take me for, Mr. Morrows?” I retort.

“Call me TJ. And I get the feeling you’re going to be a handful of sass.”

“Me? Never,” I joke.

“Too bad,” he says. “I like sassy.”

His words make me fall silent for a moment. Was he flirting with me just now, or am I just imagining it?

“Helps keep me sharp,” he adds, bursting my epic office romance fantasy bubble.

“Right,” I say. “I can do that … TJ.”

We continue to walk until we reach a door, at which point TJ stops and says, “Now, I hope you don’t scare easily.”

“Why? What’s behind that door?”

I try to peek in, but he won’t let me.

“The products we create are for a very specific customer.”

“We’re not working for criminals, are we?” I raise a brow.

“No.” He laughs out loud. “We make toys.”

“Toys? What’s scary about that?”

“Nothing, but sometimes they are.”

He opens the door farther, and when I step forward and look inside, my bag drops to the floor and my jaw goes along with it.

He places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes softly. “You never asked what we do here, so now you know. The division you’re going to work for makes dog toys.”

I stare ahead at the room full of fluffy … cuddly … chewing … barking … dogs.

“And to make sure we’re the best of the best, all our employees have their own personal doggy assistant.”

Chapter 5

Lesley

“Dog toys?” I exclaim, shocked by the discovery. “But I thought you sold people stuff.”

He sniggers. “Well, dogs are for people too, right? And yeah, we also create and sell baby products as well as regular toys. But that’s under another division, and you won’t be working there.”

“What do baby products and toys have to do with dogs?”

“Nothing.” He shrugs. “We’re a multifaceted company. Like Mars Inc. You know, those chocolates everyone on the world loves? They also have a dog food brand.”

“Really?” I frown, finding it hard to believe.

“Yeah. Toys4Dogs is one of our brands, which is what you’ll be working on.”

I stare into the room at the dogs playing with squeaky toys, some of them barking right at me, probably looking for attention … or a leg to chew on.

“To create the perfect dog toy, you need to know what your target wants,” he says. “So each one of our employees at Toys4Dogs has a personal dog assistant.”

“And you keep all them here?” I ask, looking around the magical doggy playground, which makes me shiver.

“Well, we have to keep them somewhere, and we can’t have them all over the work floor. It would be a mess. No one would get any work done.”

“So people have to come here to pick up their dog and then play with it or what?” I ask.

He nods. “If they’re trying to do something new or exciting, then, of course, they can take out their dog and see if it likes it. That’s why we have them.”

“So they’re just tools to you?” I put my hand on my side.

“No, no,” he says, raising a hand. “It’s more than that. Every employee is expected to take care of the dog. Love it, pet it, walk it. You name it.”

“Do people honestly sign up for this voluntarily?”

He snorts. “They’re dogs. Of course, people love the idea. Who wouldn’t want a dog at work?”

“But how? Where did you get all these? And who takes care of them?”

“They’re all rescue dogs. The employees each have their own, and they take them home and feed them there. Everyone here loves dogs.”

I shrug, rolling my eyes. “Okay … So do you have one too?”

“Yup,” he says, pointing at a Spitzer type dog that looks like a mixed breed in the middle of the room. “Dozer’s mine.”

“Ah-ha … Interesting.”

“Don’t you want to pet one?” TJ asks.

“No, why? Should I?”

He smiles. “Well, one of them will be yours, so why not introduce yourself?” He places a hand on my shoulder and goes down to ear level, leaning in so damn close I can feel his breath tingle on my skin. He points, and for a moment there, I’m worried he might give me the Doberman in the corner, but then his finger stops right on top of a dachshund. “That one,” he whispers. “The previous owner left the company and couldn’t take the dog because his landlord didn’t allow them, so now it’s yours.”

I suck in a breath, feeling his fingers curl around my shoulder. I don’t know why feeling him close has this much effect on me. I never was the sensitive type, but around him, I feel like I’m about to turn to jelly.

His warm hand snakes down my back and gives me a soft push. “Go on.” I flinch at the sight of all the dogs.

Tags: Clarissa Wild Erotic
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