“Nice cactuses,” someone says as they pass.
“Thank you.” It’s cacti, but I forgive you, little philistine. There are also succulents. I bought ten of the tiny little suckers, all in bright pink and yellow pots. One pot is even pink with yellow spots! I think I’ll keep that one for my desk, but the rest are going in Whit’s office. The place could do with a bit of brightening!
Oh, the satisfaction I feel as I peel off a pair of googly eyes from their sticky backing before pressing them carefully to one of the plants. That one gets pride of place on his desk. I can’t wait to hear what he thinks of them.
* * *
“How has your day been?”
My stomach does a little flip at the sound of Whit’s deep, smooth tones. That voice should come with a warning label. This isn’t the first time he’s been away from the office since I started to work at VirTu, and it isn’t the first time he’s checked in, either. But it feels different. It could be the silky tone he uses.
“It’s been busy. I’ve got lots to do. Lots of work to get through. You see, the boss man likes to keep me busy.”
“Does he now?”
“Yes, he’s very demanding.”
“That doesn’t sound like a complaint.”
“I can’t help that I like to impress him.”
“And how are you aiming to do that?”
“Well, I had this report he wanted me to prepare, and I have,” I say straightening the perfectly bound, brightly colored report on my desk. “But you know what? He’s not even in the building today.”
“What an idiot. How could he not be there?”
“Well, he is quite important. Lots of people want his time, but I guess I’m just not at the top of the list of his priorities.” I don’t know where I’m spinning this stuff from.
“It sounds like he doesn’t deserve you. In fact, if I were you, I’d go and sit in his chair right now.”
My stomach flips pleasurably. “But what would that achieve?” I ask innocently.
“I’m sure I’ll think of something before you get in there.”
“It sounds like you’re trying to get me fired because my boss specifically said there was to be no shenanigans in the office.”
“And that was the word he used?” he asks, sounding amused.
“It was something like that. But the bottom line is I’ve got to be a good girl while I’m here.”
“Because he’s keeping an eye on you?”
I sit a little straighter. “How?”
Whit chuckles, breaking character. “No, there no cameras in the office.”
“What about at home, I mean, your apartment?”
“No, but it could be arranged if you want to try that.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” I reply, full of snark.
“It was just a suggestion. Currently, there’s a camera in the hallway between the elevator and the front door but that’s the extent of my current depravities.”
“What about Friday night?” My heart skips a beat. “When we came back from the club.”
“You’re asking if it recorded our elevator shenanigans?” he asks in a terrible Irish accent.
