Chapter Fifteen

Last Monday, I’d charged into Reed Tower in the grips of a bowel emergency, sweat dripping and cheeks clenched. Before I’d even begun my first day at Reed Publishing, I’d laid into the boss pretty heavily on the way up to my internship without knowing who he was. Throughout the day, I’d made a few new friends, gotten a new part-time job at a lingerie store, and basically went about my business completely unaware that that late August Monday was going to alter my course so tremendously.

Today, one week later, I strode into Reed Tower a completely different person than that frantic, flustered girl I was just seven days ago.

I stepped into the elevator and my heel caught on the lip of the opening, then I stumbled forward, nearly careening into another passenger before I caught the railing and righted myself. Biting back an awkward laugh, I grimaced as I whispered, “Sorry,” then scooted over to the side to give the other passengers room.

Okay, so I wasn’t totally different, but my undergarments had changed considerably, and I was about to ask Cabot Reed to sponsor me so I could join his BDSM club.

The laugh I’d managed to subdue came back with a vengeance, and all the heads in the elevator swiveled toward me.

I held up my phone. “Sorry. Funny meme.”

When they all turned away from me, I tried to compose myself. He’d never take me seriously if I laughed about wanting to join him in this secret, private aspect of his life.

But I wanted nothing more.

I’d made it a point to wear the emerald satin bustier that Reed commented on Friday night, and this time, I’d left my jacket open and paired the top with a high-waisted black pencil skirt, per Greer’s invaluable guidance. My hair was down–though I hoped no one would get used to that because, good grief, who has an extra hour to spend drying their hair every day?–and I was more confident than I had ever felt in my entire life.

I swear it took longer than usual to reach the top floor, but when the elevator finally stopped at seventy-five, my heart was in my throat, but I was ready.

The doors opened and I stepped out, scanning the waiting area as I strode forward.

Stella was in her seat behind the reception desk, head bowed as she sniffled into a tissue. She must not be feeling well.

“Good morning, Stella,” I said with a smile–

That fell as soon as she looked up at me.

Red nose.

Puffy eyes.

She wasn’t sick; she’d been crying.

My steps faltered and I changed course, heading for her desk. She might be a bitch, but I’m not. “Are you all right?”

Her eyes narrowed as she gave me a once over, lips pulling into a bitter pucker. “You look different.”

And she’s back, folks. Scary Stella has returned to the building.

“Okay, well, I believe he’s waiting for me, so…” I shrugged and offered her another smile she clearly didn’t deserve.

“I think you’re right.” She smiled sweetly.

“Have a great day.”

She made a disgusted sound in her throat.

God, she was the worst. “Have the day you deserve,” I mumbled under my breath as I strode down the hallway toward Reed’s office.

My belly was a fluttering mess of drunken butterflies as I passed the conference room and approached the corner office. His voice carried out to me through his open door, deep and rumbly and–

I paused before entering.

–laced with anger. Whoever was on the other end of that phone call was probably regretting whatever they’d done to get on the bad side of Cabot Reed.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I hesitated only a moment before deciding that seeing me might cheer him up. So I smiled brightly and walked into his office.

Instantly regretting it.

His gaze landed on me and his eyes tightened.

A man I didn’t recognize sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs facing Reed’s desk, his leg crossed with the ankle resting on the opposite knee. In the time it took me to register that the man’s pale blue socks matched his pocket square perfectly, I realized that Stella had completely screwed me.

I’d interrupted a meeting. A very intense one, judging by the look in Reed’s eyes and the way he’d sounded just moments ago.

She hadn’t even tried to stop me. What a fucking gem she was.

“Can you tell time, Ms. Blake?”

I swallowed hard and met Reed’s gaze. What?

His lips tightened into a fierce line. That muscle in his jaw ticked, but now it was joined by a scary vein in his forehead.

I swallowed hard, looking at the other man for help, which was futile; he picked at a piece of lint on his sock as if I wasn’t even standing here.

“Ms. Blake.” The way Reed growled the words made my head snap toward him.

“Sir?”

His nostrils flared. “What time is it, Ms. Blake?”

“Um…” My gaze flicked from the floor to the window, then I remembered the clock on the bookshelf and swiftly scanned the face of it. “It’s just after nine, sir.”

“So.” He looked at his associate and then back at me. “I have not confused the time of day. My meeting has not run past schedule.” He paused, his gaze burning into me. “It is not nine-thirty.”

My eyes widened and his words from Friday night rushed back to me with perfect clarity. Which was not at all helpful now. After the fact. “I’m so sorry.”

“You may go.”

I inclined my head, then grimaced and gave the other guy a quick, “Sorry,” as I turned and hurried out of Reed’s office.

When I reached the reception area, I sat with a bit of a thud, and Stella’s head whipped up. Her lips pulled into an evil smirk.

“Thanks for that,” I said.

She feigned confused innocence–and not very well, I might add. “Whatever do you mean? I thought he was expecting you.”

I gave her a tight-lipped smile and pulled my phone out to distract me from ripping her apart with my bare hands.

Or…

Okay, fine.

Crying.

I needed my phone to distract me from crying.

Tags: Jessalyn Jameson Erotic
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