I spring to my feet, leaning over the desk with every intention of swatting his phone out of his hands, but fuck my fucking life today. As I go forward, he pulls back, lifting his hands, and apparently my brain didn’t get the memo. Instead, I continue to move forward, and I don’t stop until my hand lands on something of his all right. And it’s not his phone that he managed to move away from me. Nope, that would be too convenient and not as awkward as where my palm is now resting, nestled on his – growing– bulge.
My mouth waters at the memory of his pierced tip scratching the back of my throat. Temptation, like I’ve never felt before overtakes me but instead of acting on it, I settle back into his desk chair, apologizing and getting back on topic “It’s okay, you don’t need to call them. Seriously. I’m okay.”
He doesn’t look convinced.
If anything, he looks as flustered as I feel right now, but being the man that he is, he respects what I’m saying and drops it.
The silence that has fallen over us is quickly replaced by the sound of papers shuffling and keyboards clicking, with me awkwardly settling into his desk and him on the other side, with his focus on his laptop.
At this point I’m not sure what it is I’m supposed to be doing while I wait for him to say something. I’m just busying myself going into my personal email, because I don’t have my work one set up yet.
As the minutes drag on, and it’s clear that I’m going to have to make the first move. “What’s your email?”
He doesn’t bother looking up from his computer. Whatever he’s looking at really has all of his attention. That, or this man is in need of …
Oh. My. God.
As if he couldn’t look any hotter than he already does, his squinting has led to him putting on a set of thick black rectangular-framed glasses that suit his defined features.
“Sarina,” he singsongs.
“Umm sorry. What?”
His mouth stretches to a half grin. “Your email?”
“Oh, I didn’t receive a work one yet.”
He sighs. “Ralph really didn’t think this through, did he?”
Assuming that question was rhetorical and not intended for me, I keep quiet. “I’m assuming you didn’t receive your onboarding email then?”
I shake my head no.
He takes off his glasses, and instead of putting them on the desk, he decides to have the arm skim his lips as he mutters something to himself, seeming agitated, though not at me, before he recites his email address for me to write down.
His wrist flicks up, staring at his watch that looks like a contradiction to his pristine suit, with its weathered leather band and cloudy face display. “I’ll make sure that you receive all the onboarding documents you need. Included in them are all the basics so we can get you on payroll, as well as some intro stuff, including the code of conduct.”
There appears to be more he wants to say after that last part, but he leaves it at that.
“In the meantime, you can go ahead and send me the closing documents my secretary Grace sent you. I need to head to the closing in a few minutes, and I want to be able to review the few changes you may have made.”
I laugh. Unintentionally. But I can’t help it. “Afewchanges? I had to pull an all-nighter to get it done. I was seeing double with all the red-lining I had to do. I hope that was a boilerplate contract and not something you drafted up.”
Realization slaps me in the face that temporary position or not, that wasn’t the best way of wording how in dire need of editing the contract was.
But it’s too late. I’m not saying anything, not when there’s a visible knot sprung from his jawline as he intensely reviews my edits.
“Clearly my head was elsewhere when I put this together.” He pauses, staring at his watch once more, this time rubbing his finger over the face in what appears to be a sentimental gesture. “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.” There’s a tinge of sadness in his voice but just as quickly as it came on, it disappears. “But if you’re going to work with me, you’re going to have to get used to all-nighters. Comes with the territory unfortunately.”
“Got it.”
“Boring, I know.”
I nod in agreement, and his dimples are on full display again. “I could think of much better ways to occupy myself all night long.”
I drink him in, unintentionally, but I can’t help it. It’s as if for a moment we aren’t here…at work…but back in the mirrored room.“Me too.”
His phone sounds with a notification and just like that, we’re reminded of where we are.
