“You know Portland. It’s hard to find anything that’s not a broom closet,” I joke, making her giggle. The sound is breathy and innocent, and I catch myself, not for the first time, wondering what other kinds of sounds I could coax out of her. “Can I get you some water? Or soda?”
“That’s all right,” Libby replies, taking a seat on my sofa. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Sure, no problem,” I tell her, the corner of my mouth quirking up as I sit down next to her. “Besides, maybe you know more about the business than you think. Maybe you can teach me, and not the other way around.”
She laughs again, and the tinkling sound works its way through my body, straight down to my cock. “Hmm, which business school class is that, again? Where the barista teaches the CEO?” she teases.
That actually prompts a laugh from me, and I can see her relax a little, leaning back onto the sofa. The hem of her mini skirt rides up ever so slightly, revealing more of Libby’s pale thigh. I’ve never been alone with this woman before, and the experience is electric. In the past, Patrick was always present, or our parents, and that helped my restraint somewhat. Now, though, with no one to watch us, it takes everything I have not to move closer, to put my hand on that smooth skin and pull her body into mine. Does she have any idea what seeing her like this is doing to me? Could my younger brother ever give her what I want to give her right now?
I shake the thought away and clear my throat. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”
“Yeah, it has,” Libby admits, glancing shyly away. “It’s a little weird to be here without Patrick. I feel like those are they only times we’ve been in each other’s company.”
“That’s understandable,” I reply. “We’ve basically only met during the holidays before, so it makes sense. Plus, you must have a lot going on.”
Libby raises her eyebrows incredulously. “I should be saying that to you. You’re a billionaire CEO. I’m just the help.”
“You’re not just anything,” I correct her in a mild tone. “Everyone starts somewhere. I started out working in the service industry, same as you. And I can guarantee you’re doing a better job there than I ever did.” My smile grows a bit more.
“That’s kind of you,” Libby murmurs, and I see the faintest blush creep into her cheeks.
I clench my jaw hard enough that I can hear it creak. It’s taking all my self-control not to push her onto the couch and take her, so I force myself to address the matter at hand. “So what’s going on? What kind of career crisis are we talking about here?”
Libby takes a breath. “Well, like I mentioned, I’ve been working at the Blue Bean, and Dakota Straithmore, the girl who owns it, is my best friend. She has been since we were in high school. I was there when she first opened the place, and now I’m working for her. I mean, I appreciate Dakota giving me a job, but it’s like she’s suddenly both my best friend and my boss. You know?”
“Yup,” I nod. “You don’t know how to handle the situation, right?”
“Right,” she says. “It’s complicated.”
I steeple my hands, my business instincts taking over. Better those than my carnal ones at least. “Well,” I ask, raising my eyebrows, “how has it been going so far? You’ve been there for a while now, right? What’s the dynamic like?”
“I mean…” Libby fidgets. “I guess it hasn’t been going badly. It’s gone pretty well, actually, now that I think about it.” She stumbles over her words as she continues. “Dakota treats me nice, actually. Although…” She bites her lip in a way that lights a fresh fire inside me, and it’s clear that she’s searching for an explanation. “I guess she does ask me to clean the bathrooms more than the other baristas.”
Her fumbling response prompts a burst of laughter that rumbles deep in my chest. “That’s not a problem,” I point out. “That takes, what? All of two minutes?”
Libby’s pink cheeks go a shade of bright red and she breaks eye contact, mumbling, “It takes five minutes every hour.”
Smiling, I shake my head slowly. It’s clear there’s something else on her mind, and my curiosity is only growing stronger with each passing second. “Libby,” I say, still gazing down at her, “come on. We’re both adults here, and we both know this bathroom-cleaning thing isn’t a big deal. Why are you really at my apartment?”
Libby glances up at me, and then quickly away, and I can see her willpower breaking. The playfulness in her expression vanishes, only to be replaced by a look of sadness and confusion. “You’re right,” she murmurs, still not meeting my eyes. “Well, I guess it’s that your brother had me thrown in jail. I just got out this morning,” she confesses in a rush.