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I groan to myself. I can’t afford to fuck up this film. But the more I look at her, the more I want to fuck her. I know I didn’t just imagine the way she was looking at me that night at her house. I want to follow her to her room, and play with her body until she begs me to fuck her. Make her admit she wants me.
I step back outside to the deck and walk to where I’d left the breakfast and coffee I brought with me and bring them inside. Thankfully my phone and keys weren’t a casualty of my impromptu swim. I look down at myself and grimace, my jeans are already stiffening uncomfortably. I run out to get my things, and when I come in, I can hear the water in the master bath running. I imagine her wet and naked in the shower. Her soapy hand sliding over her stomach and slipping between her legs. I wonder if she’s touching herself. I want to walk in there and find out. “Not even an option, Reece,” I mumble as I duck into the hallway bathroom to change.
Once I’m dressed, I step back into the living room to wait for her. I’m reading emails when one from my father pops up, wishing me good luck today. It’s just what I need to remind me that I can’t indulge in this kind of self-sabotage. This film, and its success is too important. I’m not going to let myself get distracted by Lucía Vega’s ass. It has disaster written all over it. I’ll have this meeting and then I won’t come back to the guesthouse. “Lucía Vega is your much younger employee,” I say to myself. If I could just get my dick to listen, I might survive this morning.
Like a genie popping out of a bottle I rubbed, she walks into the living room. She’s wearing tiny denim shorts, a light pink sleeveless top that barely covers her belly but flows to her knees in the back and flip-flops. Her hair is still wet, and her lips are bright red again. She looks good enough to eat.
She’s also holding a pile of towels in her hand. She drops them onto the floor and gets on her hands and knees and starts wiping. I’m distracted by the swaying of her ass and the toned muscles of her legs and so it takes me a minute
to process what she’s doing.
“We have staff that cleans up, Lucía,” I say dryly. She stills, her back stiffening for a moment before she starts wiping again.
“I’m sure you do,” she says without looking up.
“Then, why are you on the floor?” I ask as I stand over her.
“Because I made a mess. I’m cleaning it up. I don’t want whoever you’ve hired to come in here and slip and fall because I was too lazy . . . or entitled to mop up a little water,” she says. When she says the word entitled, she’s implying that’s exactly what I am.
“Fine.” I walk back to the island. “When you’re done being righteous, I’d like to talk with you about the job I’ve actually hired you to do. I brought breakfast, but I’ll start without you.”
“That’s fine, Mr. Carras. I’ll be done in a minute,” she says stiffly.
Fuck, this woman is difficult.
“Call me Reece,” I say as I unpack the bag of pastries. I take the two coffees out of the drink carrier and wait for her to join me.
When she’s finally finished, my coffee is cold and my patience has worn thin.
“This all looks delicious, thank you,” she says, her eyes studiously on the food and purposely avoiding me.
I nearly laugh.
“You’re welcome,” I say to her with an equal lack of sincerity while I watch her pick up a croissant and sit down.
“I haven’t worked this closely on a project in a long time. I’ve also got my other studio responsibilities to think about, so I won’t waste time by beating around the bush.”
Her eyes finally come to mine.
She looks wary, but she’s paying attention.
“I came here to help you get ready for the first day with your writers, but it seems we need to clear the air first.” She looks confused, but I know she’s not.
“You clearly have a problem with me. I’m not sure why. I want you to get over it. Fast. Ball’s in your court. If you decide you want things to be unpleasant, that’s fine, too, but it will make the next few months feel endless.” I pick up my pastry. “So, eat, and think about it. When you’re done. We’ll talk.”
Her eyes narrow before they drop to the counter. I see her hands balled into tiny fists. Her control is slipping. Good, maybe now we can have a real conversation.
I sit back, take a huge bite of out the pain au chocolate and wait for her to respond.
7
Lucía
Oh, how I wish I could unleash on him. For showing up here unannounced, scaring me, making me fall in that damn pool and making me feel like a fool.
But I swallow all of that. He’s my boss. I don’t want to do anything to mess this up. I also know my dislike of him is irrational. His “you’re not my type” declaration stung more than I wanted to admit initially. Seeing him this morning, looking more handsome than he should, makes that sting feel fresh. I’ve got to put that aside and behave like a professional.
I struggle to calm myself before I lift my eyes from the snow-white marble countertop and look at him. Of course, he’s not even looking at me. He’s scrolling through his phone while he munches on that chocolate croissant. The one I’d planned on eating, but didn’t pick up because I was afraid to look greedy for taking two.
