From Secretary to Mistress (Obsession)

We resolve the issue in minutes, and I give myself a mental pat on the back.

Good job, Mary.

I might not be the kind of girl that could win Stone Verhoff's heart, but I doubt he'd find a better secretary, and I just need to learn to be content with that.

I grab a bite at the cafeteria before returning to my desk, and my heart nearly stops beating when I see a folded piece of neon green Post-It stuck to the screen of my phone.

Oh my God.

I forgot all about the app!

Whoever left this note might've seen the app on my phone!

My knees feel like they're about to give out as I take my seat, and my fingers are slightly shaking as I reach for the sticky note.

Come to my office as soon as you read this...Spoiled Princess.

I thought Friday night was the worst thing that could happen to me, but I was obviously wrong. It's one thing for my boss to accidentally see me naked, but for him to find out that I've signed up for a dating app between "baby girls" and their future sugar daddies?

There can only be one reason Stone's asking to see me in his office...and I'm pretty sure it's to fire my ass and tell me that I'm never to show my face in V&V again.

Stone

Mary was all I could think about the entire weekend, and as painful as this is to admit, I've jacked myself off while I fantasize about fucking her sweet, clean-shaved pussy.

Monday can't come soon enough for me, and I was expecting it would be the same for her.

But it isn't.

Instead of acting shy and awkward upon seeing me at work, Mary acts cool, calm, and collected like always, and it's pissing me off.

Am I really not her fucking type?

Does she really not fucking care that I saw her naked?

I know my fucking worth, and it's no damn exaggeration that I can have just about any woman come willingly to my bed with a snap of my fingers.

Frustration seethes inside of me as I keep track of her movements through the two-way-glass walls of my office. I'm waiting for her to glance this way, but she never does.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I get to my feet as soon as I see Mary head off for lunch, and I find the perfect excuse to seek her out when I step out of my office.

She's forgotten her phone on her desk, and its screen lights up as I reach for it and accidentally press the display.

What the hell?

Am I seeing this right? Has my secretary signed up for an account with a dating app for sugar daddies and their would-be mistresses?

I want to think it's a joke, but when I scroll down, all of the details listed for the account match what I know of Mary.

I try to imagine my perfect secretary taking the role of a little girl with a dirty old man, and I just can't wrap my head around it.

Mary's so damn proper, and her birthday notwithstanding, I still believe I know Mary pretty well. While this side of hers might have blindsided me, I'm willing to bet my life that my secretary's no golddigger.

There has to be something more to this, and I know exactly what to do to get to the bottom of this.

Mary comes knocking on my door twenty minutes later, and I lean against the edge of my desk as I call for her to come in.

Her expression is tranquil as always, but she eventually betrays her apprehension when I see her gulp as our gazes meet.

It's my first time to see Mary nervous around me...and I think I like it.

"Will you give me a chance to explain, Mr. Verhoff?"

I gesture to one of the chairs. "Sit down, please."

She seems to want to argue with me, and that's a first. But then she takes a deep breath, and she slowly takes a seat.

"When you first started working for us, Scarlett told her uncle something pretty important."

Mary wets her lips at my words. It's another first, and I like it, too.

"She told Nic that neither of us are your type."

Her eyes widen. "Oh."

"Since then, I've been wondering what your type could be, and now I guess I have my answer..."

Mary's cheeks turn pink when she sees that I have the same app downloaded on my phone.

"Is this your type, Mary?"

A squeaking cry escapes her. "S-Sir—-"

"The Sugar Daddy Code," I read out loud in a mockingly polite voice. "The ideal sugar daddy is one who cherishes and pampers his baby girl. He knows his sweet angel inside and out, and he takes pride in indulging her every want—-"

Mary snatches her phone out of my hand. "Sir!"

I study her thoughtfully as I try connecting the dots. I know she was orphaned young, and that she was mostly raised by an old-fashioned aunt who taught in Sunday school. I'm sure that meant Mary had a strict upbringing, but since I can't see being rebellious in her teenage years—-