She’d be missed, but I’m not sure if I’d survive.

Is there any way I can keep her here without it feeling as though I’m clipping her freedom-seeking wings?

~ One Month Later ~

“What is this?” I ask, walking into the reception area.

Juni looks at the booklet in my hand and replies, “The Unofficial Manual to Christiansen Wealth Management. That’s a mouthful. It needs an acronym. UMCWM. That doesn’t work.”

I set it down on the counter of her desk. “We can figure that out later, but what is it?”

“You once asked me how I knew you liked the office at a freezing seventy-one degrees.” She taps the top of the booklet. “That’s how.”

“Vaguely. I need more.”

“You always do.” I’m pretty sure that was a sex joke. The wink confirms it. She says, “Melissa started a manual about everyone’s specifics, especially the bosses and Christiansens. I’ve added to it since I took this job. Figured it was my contribution to the next reception assistant.”

Thumbing through the booklet, I find some relief that it’s under a hundred pages. “Reception assistant?” I ask, glancing up at her.

“Receptionist feels dated. I thought a few minor changes wouldn’t hurt.”

I realize it’s not like discovering a plant’s veins contract and expand, but she’s here, even if it’s only temporarily, and improving the company.

I can’t help but want her to stay, but at some point, Mrs. Hendricks’s words need to come into play. Not just in relation to the apartment building but to this job that she’s incredibly overqualified for, and simply isn’t her destiny. Yeah, yeah. I said the d-word. Don’t tell her.

“I like it, Juni. As for the booklet, why does it say not to bother me at 12:15?”

She clears her throat. “You know why.”

“Ah.” Yes, I do. That’s when the office is the emptiest. Thank God there aren’t cameras in here. We’ve been good about keeping our relationship on the down low. Is it what we prefer? No.

I could go public, but it’s not a good look for someone in my position and could be easily misconstrued. Juni likes the secrecy, so we keep it contained when we’re at work. Well, except for at 12:15.

Speaking of, I check the time, already looking forward to our lunchtime rendezvous. Not that it’s every day, of course. Meetings offsite and staff meetings going overtime have prevented many meetups. Not only that, but we recognized that it would be more than risky if Juni was seen entering my office every day at 12:15 p.m.

“How many people have access to this book?”

“Me, and now you.”

“That’s good.” I flip the page, still scanning for the things that pop out at me. “Why does it say not to bother Nick on Tuesdays and Fridays after 4:30?”

She transfers a call and then leans in. “That’s when Natalie stops by. You’re not the only one having fun at the office. In fact . . .” She checks the door over her shoulder. “I think Laurie and Joseph are an item.”

“Really?”

Nodding, she says, “I found this on the copier.” She slaps a piece of paper down on her desk.

My eyes dart from the imprint of an ass with someone’s cheek pressed to it to Juni. “How do you know that’s them? How can you tell?” I angle my head sideways to get another look.

Taking a red pen, she circles a button. “Evidence number one, that’s the button on the sweater Laurie keeps on her chair for when a certain someone tries to freeze the office. Number two . . .” She circles three dots on the smashed cheek. “Joseph has three freckles on his left cheek that always remind me of Orion’s Belt.”

“Have you considered detective work?”

She clicks the lid back on the pen and drops it in her pen cup. “Doesn’t pay enough.”

Just when I think she can’t surprise me anymore. “And this job does?”

“No, but this job comes with perks. Reference 12:15 again.” She still does.

I’ve found her quick wit one of my favorite things about her, and that’s a long fucking list. “Don’t forget it, babe.”

“I never do, hot stuff.” She winks with a cluck of her tongue. “See you in twenty.”

32

Drew

“What do you think?”

I look around, thinking I don’t recognize this place. Juni is industrious. I haven’t completely left my CEO workaholic days behind me—I doubt anyone could simply eradicate the responsibilities on my shoulders—but I have certainly left the office earlier most nights than I used to. In fact, despite finishing at seven twice this week, I’ve rarely been there until ten or eleven in the past six weeks.

Baby steps.

I’ve come home to home-cooked meals, or we’ve eaten out and then crashed at mine. But Juni’s often spent those nights making the apartment her grandmother left her, her own. The dusty wreath no longer hangs at the entrance, and the new door is more modern.

Tags: S.L. Scott Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net