I’ve got thousands of employees relying on me. I’ve got several subsidiaries to keep churning along. I’ve got so much work I could never think about anything personal ever again.
And yet, as I wait for the call to come through, Mom’s words niggle at my thoughts.
There could be someone out there for me.
I just haven’t found her.
Soon, I’m speaking with my contacts in Japan, able to push all of this to the side.
It’s best that way. Then I don’t have to torture myself with things that have never been. And may never be.
CHAPTER TWO
Fiona
I clutch the piece of paper to my chest, hardly able to focus on the TV, my heart drumming so hard it feels like it’s going to bust open my ribcage. That’s as dramatic as dramatic gets. I know that.
I can’t fight the feeling.
My mind won’t stop returning to Felix Franklin, CEO of the company where I work as a lowly assistant’s assistant.
Not an assistant, but somebody who helps an assistant.
I can’t complain.
It’s a job, and it helps me pay my share of the rent. I was lucky to get it since entry-level positions are fiercely sought after these days. But apparently, I aced the interview, which was a shock to me.
I guess my nervousness came over as exaggerated confidence or something.
Closing my eyes, I see Felix Franklin, who has never met me and doesn’t even know I exist. With so many employees, it’s not as though he can keep track of them all.
But I’ve seen him in photos and once or twice in person, striding across the office.
My body tingles all over when I think about his six-foot-two frame – Wikipedia can be helpful sometimes – with his wide shoulders, rock-hard chest, and pulsing muscles. His hair is silver, alluring, and he’s got the bluest, most wolfish eyes. It’s like he’s always on the hunt for something.
The next deal, the next opportunity…the next woman?
I have no clue about the last bit. He must have had girlfriends, of course. A man like him would find it difficult not to. But there’s no mention of them online.
I squeeze the piece of paper as though it isn’t a complete waste of time.
He’s so dreamy, flooding my thoughts with fantasies. I imagine walking into his office to deliver a note, which I’ve never had to do. But in the dream, he gestures to me, nodding at his lap and telling me to take a seat in a commanding tone.
I giggle in the waking dream, knowing that would never happen.
The sternness of his voice makes me shiver. He’d know exactly what to do, and then we’d….
I stop myself. I’ve indulged far too many times recently, letting my hand stray down between my legs, letting my lust hammer and burn as I imagine his firm arms wrapped around me. Then he’ll whisper in my ear that I’m beautiful, that he wants me badly, all the while his strong hand sliding up between my legs and pushing against the wetness there.
“What are you doing?”
I open my eyes to find Rachel standing over me.
My roommate and best friend couldn’t be more different from me, with her cheerleader figure, tanned shiny skin, and vibrant blonde hair. But we’ve got history, enough to fuse us together no matter how unlikely.
“What’s that?” she asks, nodding to the paper I’ve almost ruined by clutching too tightly.
I loosen my grip, not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when the phone number is still readable.
“Nice,” Rachel grins. “Who’s the lucky man?”
I swallow, struggling to find the right words. For Rachel, getting a man’s phone number isn’t a big deal. It’s all part of the fun of life, and it weirdly hits me when she assumes it’s the same for me.
Sometimes, it’s like she doesn’t understand how different we are. It’s like she can’t understand that people – and especially men – simply don’t see us the same.
I swallow.
“It’s Felix Franklin’s personal cell phone number.”
“What?” Rachel gasps as she drops down next to me, basically tossing her work bag onto the floor. “Tell me everything.”
“I was running an errand for Julia.”
“The boss from hell,” Rachel groans.
I laugh. “I had to pick up some sushi for her. I took it to her office, but she wasn’t there. I started getting worried. You know what she’s like. Fine, maybe she’s not the absolute worst, but she can be pretty horrible. If the sushi went all icky, she might throw one of her fits.
“Anyway, I walk around her office, thinking maybe she left a note on her desk. Her computer was open, Rach. There was an email on there…from Felix. It turns out the sushi was for his mom. He’d left two phone numbers in the email, his mom’s and his, just in case she couldn’t reach him on the work line.”
My hands tremble when I remember the next bit.