Stuck-Up Suit
“Is that code for hop up on your desk, and we play boss secretary?”
I groaned. “Get your ass down here.”
She chuckled. I’m glad my constant suffering could, at least, be of amusement to her. “No can do, Morgan.”
“Stop screwing with me, Soraya.”
“I’m not. I actually can’t come there. I’m not home.”
“Where are you?”
“Helping Delia at a trade show. We’re a few hours upstate.”
I muttered something inarticulate under my breath. “When will you be back?”
“In the morning. The show doesn’t end until after dark, and Delia is dangerous enough driving in the light. Plus, she’ll pierce a hundred walk-ins today at the show, and be cross-eyed by the time it’s over. So we’re going to crash at the hotel across the street from the show.”
“What will you be doing all day?”
“Assisting. I swab the area before she pierces and hold hands with the chickens.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer, but I asked anyway. “What will you be swabbing?”
“The usual. Ears, noses, belly buttons, tongues, nipples, a penis or two.”
“Come again?”
“It’s clinical.”
“Yes, that makes me feel better about you swabbing a man’s cock. I’m sure Delia has her M.D.”
“Relax. It’s no big deal.”
“Yes. You’re right.”
“I am?”
“Sure.” I partially covered the phone and yelled to my secretary, who wasn’t in today. “Elizabeth? Can you come in here a minute?”
“Elizabeth? Is that your new secretary?”
“Yes. I’m going to wash her tits.”
Soraya chuckled. The woman damn laughed at me. Again.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’ve seen firsthand the way you treat secretaries. Pretty sure she wouldn’t let you wash her feet, much less her tits.”
Sadly, she was probably right.
“When will I see you?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
“Works for me. I have to go now. A big tatted guy just walked into Delia’s booth. They usually need hand holding the most.”
“Wonderful. Now I’ll be picturing you swabbing some muscle head’s cock while he ogles your massive rack and gets hard.”
“You have a pretty vivid imagination.”
“Tomorrow. Soraya.”
“Later, Suit.”
A few minutes after we hung up, my phone buzzed with a text from her.
Soraya: Yes, we have a deal.
***
I NEEDED TO GET HER MIND OFF that shit with Avery, show her that there was nothing to be scared about when it came to me. Unable to concentrate on anything but seeing Soraya tonight, I left the office early which seemed to be the norm lately. If I didn’t own the company, I would have totally fired my ass.
Back at my condo, I got to work chopping vegetables for the pasta primavera I was planning to make. I wasn’t a gourmet cook by any means, but I could make a damn good al dente pasta. I’d texted Soraya earlier to let her know there was a change of plans; I was cooking her dinner for us at my place. It felt like the right change of pace after the gala fiasco. I needed to let her into my space and show her more of my casual side.
I’d just turned on the television that was built into the wall of my kitchen, selecting a show from the DVR list when the phone rang. Soraya calling. I grabbed a towel to wipe my hands before answering it.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
“Hi…” She paused. “What is that music in the background?”
“The television.”
Shit.
Frantically trying to lower the volume, I soon realized that the volume control wasn’t working. My coolness factor was about to plummet.
“Was that the opening sequence to General Hospital?”
“No,” I lied.
“Yes, it was.”
Fuck. Caught in the act.
I laughed guiltily. “Ok, it was. You got me.”
“You watch soap operas?”
“Only this one.”
“And here I was thinking we didn’t have anything in common…”
I cleared my throat and surrendered to the embarrassment. “You watch it, too?”
“Actually, I used to…not as much anymore.”
“I never really got into it until my mother became sick when I was in high school. She was obsessed with GH. When she was bed-ridden, I’d curl up next to her at three in the afternoon and keep her company while it was on. I ended up getting into some of the storylines and kept watching it after she passed. It reminds me of her.”