AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Oh, I’ve already spoken to them, and?—”
“Just give me a minute, all right?” I hang up and instantly regret snapping at Priya. This isn’t her fault.
“Everything okay?” I jump at the sound of Max’s voice and turn to see his head peeking around his door.
“Um. Yes.” I slide my hand down my ponytail from root to tip. “Everything’s fine.”
“You were shouting at someone,” he says, puzzled. “I’ve never heard you raise your voice before. Not even when I’m extra annoying.”
I turn to face him. “Remember when you rearranged a meeting with Tarquin for the sixth time and made me tell him?” Tarquin is the CFO and thinks he owns the place. “I definitely raised my voice at you then. And used profanity.”
Max grins. “Ah, yes. I’d forgotten about that.”
“Anyway.” I stroll as leisurely as I can manage back around my desk and take my seat as if I don’t have a care in the world and there’s absolutely nothing whatsoever to panic about. “Just a little hiccup with the First Byte launch. But nothing I can’t fix in a flash.” Yup, that definitely sounded like the tone of someone destined for a leadership role.
“Better not be,” Max says, with a power-trip glint in his eye. “Because I’ve been thinking about a nice little project with your name on it. And it would be such a shame if you didn’t get to run it.”
I tip my head and give him a hard stare. “I might be about to raise my voice again.”
“I look forward to it,” he says, closing the door behind him and going back to his desk, where he turns to look at me, grins again, and taps his watch.
Yes, Max. Thank you very much. There is absolutely no one more aware of the ticking clock than me.
“Hey!” Vivian’s cheerful face appears around the corner from the hallway. “Wow, are you okay?” Her smile drops. “You look like you’ve just discovered pens now only come in black.”
“No.” I whisper. “Everything is a fucking disaster.”
She moves next to me and leans against the edge of my desk. “Why are we whispering? Does it have to do with him?” She nods toward Max.
“No. Well, ultimately, yes. But right now, the whole place for Elliot’s nonprofit has been wrecked in a flood. The timeline was tight enough already, but I have no clue how I’m going to pull it together by Monday now. Monday. Six days.” I hold up the appropriate number of fingers for emphasis.
“Oh, flood schmud. Pfft.” She knocks my fingers down, to dismiss my worry as nothing. “If there’s one person on this planet who can organize their way out of a catastrophe, it’s you. What did Elliot say?”
“Haven’t told him yet.”
“Have you spoken to him at all since you apologized for the, er…” She raises her eyebrows as far as they’ll go. “…incident?”
Vivian knows every gory detail of the “incident.” And while she felt incredibly guilty about being behind the dumplings—which had apparently only made her “a bit gassy”—she also thought it was the most hilarious story she’d ever heard. Particularly the part where I told Elliot he had nice arms. Twice.
“Nope. Avoiding him at all costs. I sent him some photos of the great progress the contractors had made on the place yesterday, but that was all.” I fiddle with the purple dual-tip dot marker on my desk. “Such a shame I ruined our working relationship. We’d been getting along so well.”
“You have ruined nothing,” Vivian says with the certainty of a mother telling their child they are beautiful. “That man adores you.” She dips her head toward me and lowers her voice again. “He’s wanted to take your skirt off for years.”
My face heats from the embarrassing memory.
I might have told Vivian all the facts, but what I didn’t tell her was how I haven’t been able to get Elliot out of my mind since. I keep having flashbacks, albeit blurry ones, to how he cradled me in his arms, stroked my hair, made sure my giant T-shirt was pulled right down to my knees for decency before he eased off my skirt, and then tucked me into bed like I was the most precious thing in the world.
I can’t remember a time in my whole life where anyone has ever looked after me the way he did that night. And he couldn’t have been more of a gentleman.
My thoughts about it since, though, have been anything but ladylike.
I’ve imagined how he might have spooned me on the bathroom floor and tucked my bare back against his chest as I buried my butt in his inevitably firm crotch.
I’ve thought about what it would be like for him to take off my skirt, then slide my underwear down immediately afterward.
I’ve wondered how it would feel to pull his face right up to mine again, ask him to stay with me, and kiss him.
But they are all ridiculous, unrealistic, and completely unacceptable thoughts.
