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So arrange stuff, ya dummy.
The thought of never having to answer to Angela again is enough to make me squeal out loud and taking in the whole view, the feel of the top floor, and Jack of course makes me feel like I’ve won the lottery.
By the time I get the courage to pick up the phone to even begin, I have to sit down.
“Yes, Ms. Patterson?” A polite voice answers. “We’ve been expecting your call,” she explains. “Anything you need, just ask and we’ll get right on it,” she adds, leaving an equally polite silence.
Waiting for my instructions.
My instructions.
“Uh, yeah, Well… I was thinking maybe a cleaning team up on the top floor… And some extra phones, computers…” I stammer.
“Mr. Riggs is heading up the office transfer. The extra equipment and furniture are scheduled for… tomorrow,” she announces, sounding like she’s checking a screen of her own.
“I see. And the cleaners?” I ask, trying to sound like I know something.
“We’ll have a team up there within the hour, Ms. Patterson. Is there anything else?” she asks, really meaning it too. Not just doing her job.
“I’d really love a black coffee, no sugar,” I confess. “And a roast beef sandwich?”
“On its way,” she chirps cheerfully, sounding like an old friend as I hear the tippy tap of her keystrokes.
“And your name?” I ask, definitely putting whoever she is on the star list of my mind.
“Amanda. Amanda Cummings, Ms. Patterson, and very pleased to meet you,” she adds before I hang up after thanking her.
Is this how Jack lives? Is this what it feels like?
I write Amanda’s name on a legal pad I found in a drawer and taking the pad with me, I start to snoop.
Professionally.
Making notes and sketching ideas I have, even though I know someone else has been assigned the task, I know Jack’s gonna want my input.
I just know he is.
A short while later the ping of the elevator makes me look up as I move from room to room, office to office,
My heart leaps, expecting to see Jack, but it’s a delivery guy. He waits by the elevator until I come over.
“Ms. Patterson?” he asks nervously, looking around like he’s stepped into a museum after hours.
I smile and nod, my mouth watering at the smell of the food and fresh coffee he’s holding.
Realizing I don’t have a tip handy, I make a face that sets him at ease.
“It’s alright. Ms. Patterson. Mr. Cole’s account is just fine,” he says with a little wink before turning on his heel and heading back down the elevator after handing me a cup and a paper sack that makes me think of Jack first and my stomach second.
I don’t even look up when the elevator pings again, absorbed by the fact they even added cheese to my sandwich without me having to ask.
A tall. Deli-style sandwich too, with about a half a pound of roast beef in it.
I’m in heaven.
“I was gonna ask if you wanted to get out of here, maybe catch a bite?” he asks.
I almost drop said sandwich as I take in Jack’s bulge and then his huge frame, filling the air in front of me.
The one thing I could truly eat right now, as well as roast beef and cheese.
Taking a sip from my coffee, he nods like he has a secret, then eyeing the other half of my sandwich I motion him to go ahead.
Taking my hands in his again, he leans over and takes a large bite from my own handful.
And that’s it.
I know I’m done.
If I can share my pussy, coffee, and a hot sandwich so easily with the man, he may as well just put a freaking ring on my finger.
Even watching him eat turns me on. And he’s watching me chew with the same expression I know I have as he takes a seat opposite me.
“I thought this could be the new reception area?” I suggest, swiping my lower lip with a finger as I watch him nod, hearing the low sound of satisfaction he makes.
Hard to explain, but when someone actually just wants you for you, It’s pretty amazing.
“We’ll eat, then maybe I can take you home?” he suggests, making me frown.
“Maybe have something more to eat?” he smiles.
The sudden and shocking realization of Jack Cole actually seeing where I live is too much.
Worse than dying.
“I thought you wanted to take things slow?” he adds, noting my expression. “I can be Jack Cole and you can be Avery, my new assistant. Nothing wrong in me dropping you home is there?” he asks again, and I have to concentrate to swallow three stories of roast beef and cheese on rye.
“I guess not,” I finally manage to say, not wanting to hurt his feelings either.
I feel like I might have done enough of that for one day.
