"Humor me and have a look." He points to my phone. "I guarantee this is something you'll want to see."
"Fine," I groan as I open the text message app on my phone to find his name at the top of the list. He sent me a photo less than thirty seconds ago. "What's this?"
"It's the consequence of you putting yourself in a compromising position."
I have no idea what the hell that's supposed to mean so I do the only thing I can. I open the message and scroll down until the attached photo pops into view.
"How?" I whisper under my breath as I stare at a picture of the small heart shaped tattoo that's on the inside of my left thigh. "You can't have a picture of this. Where did you get this?"
He sighs as his fingers glide over his phone's screen.
"Tell me where you got this." I wave my phone in his direction as my face heats. "Are there cameras installed in the women's washroom? If there are, that's illegal. I'm calling the police."
My phone chimes again just as he speaks. "This next picture might jar your memory. Take a look."
Next picture? How many goddamn pictures of my bare thigh does this man have?
My hands shake as I open the message he apparently just sent. There's a photo attached to this one as well. I scroll down, my breath catching as the image comes into view.
My tattoo is the focus of this one too, but there's more. The pink lace panties I'm wearing are visible. The fact that they're slightly askew means a sliver of my pussy is on display. I was obviously on my back in this picture since my face is partially visible in the distance.
Holy shit. No. No. No.
I cradle the phone to my chest, blocking the screen from his view even though he's obviously already seen both pictures. "How did you get these? Who gave them to you?"
He stands, his fingers buttoning his suit jacket. "At the holiday party a year ago you announced to the room that you were uploading all the pictures you'd taken of the festivities to a gallery on the company's server."
I remember that. I'd just started working at Matiz a month before the party. I wanted to do something nice for my co-workers so I used my phone to snap dozens of pictures during the party of everyone enjoying the food and appetizers.
"Apparently I was the only one listening to you," he goes on. "I checked out the gallery later that night, and to my surprise, you'd uploaded those two very personal pictures along with the images you took of your intoxicated co-workers."
I swallow past the large lump in my throat. "I uploaded those two pictures to the company server?"
He rounds his desk and approaches me. "You uploaded them, and I deleted them. I doubt anyone had a look at them before I removed them."
I should thank him, right? I should thank him for keeping my pussy private.
"I had no idea I did that," I manage to say.
"I assumed it was a mistake, Lark. You did have more than your fair share of red wine that night." He strokes his chin, his eyes studying my face. "I highly doubted that you'd deliberately compromise yourself that way."
Is this a lesson? Is he throwing my words back in my face? What a jerk. What a distractingly good-looking jerk.
"I appreciate you looking out for me." I twist my mouth into what I hope resembles a half-assed genuine grin. "Thank you for deleting them from the server."
His lips purse and I wonder for a brief second if he's going to kiss me again. It only happened once under that cilantro scented mistletoe. I've wanted it to happen again ever since but he hooked up with Gem, the ultimate social media ass. Or she has the ultimate ass according to social media. Either way, he was kissing her and not me by the end of January. They've been on and off over the course of the last year but it didn't make any difference in my life. Everything between us since our one and only kiss has been all business.
His phone rings. He answers it quickly. I don't hear the words he's saying. I'm too busy staring at my phone.
I took these two pictures of my tattoo for a guy I broke up with before I started working here. I scrubbed my phone of every reminder of him when he texted me last Valentine's Day out of the blue wanting to hook up. I don't have those pictures anymore yet Mr. Moore still does.
I tap him on the shoulder as he speaks to someone about the upcoming trends in eyebrow pencils. "Mr. Moore, I have to ask you something."
He shoots me a look accompanied by a thrust of his index finger in the air.
Is that supposed to be a warning for me to be quiet?
I shake my head. "This is urgent."