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In the light of day, and without all the raging hormones blurring my thoughts, I regret not telling him about the resignation letter before I took one step inside his door. In my defense, I was helpless when he silenced me with searing kisses and a talented tongue, but still, I wasn’t honest with him.
“Hush.” He quiets me, placing a long finger over my lips. “I know all about your email to Reece.”
“You do?” My mouth drops open, and his lips tilt up in the hottest, I-know-it-all smirk.
“Reece emailed while I was drinking my coffee. It woke me up better than the caffeine.” He regards me in an impassive manner. It’s a powerplay expression that works in the boardroom, but not so much in the bedroom.
“Are you upset with me?” I ask.
“Well, Reece isn’t accepting your resignation via email, and as your boss’s boss, neither am I. We want you in the office by ten.” He adjusts his shiny cufflinks and stands, dismissing further conversation on the matter.
“I’m leaving Hammond. And there’s nothing that will change my mind.” I stand up next to him in a huff, attempting to drape the long sheet around me, but end up looking like a half-nude mummy.
“This is a bit of overkill.” The sexy devil laughs at my expense, tugging at the sheet. “Since I’ve already seen and kissed every inch of you.”
“I’m aware of this fact.” I sigh, my eyes going all dreamy, remembering his lips on me everywhere.
“And we’ll see about you leaving. Now, go get ready.” When he passes by me, he slaps my ass, though I barely feel it under the wrapped sheets.
“What was that?” I ask in protest, though I actually loved it and hope he does it again.
“Just trying to keep you in line, sweet girl.” He walks out the bedroom door and I follow, hot on his trail. “My driver will pick you up promptly at nine forty-five.”
“That’s not necessary. It’s only a few blocks away.” Midtown traffic moves at a snail’s pace. I can walk to the building faster—even in heels.
Entering the smooth marble entryway, Barclay stops on a dime, turning around to face me. Unprepared, I slam straight into his hard chest. He grabs hold of my arms and gazes down at me, a mischievous spark in his eyes.
“I want to make sure you’re there at ten, so you’re being supervised.”
“I’m not a child.” I cross my arms over my chest, thus pushing my boobs up and nearly over the sheet wrap. Barclay’s eyes focus on my prominent cleavage, and he licks his lips.
“Oh, believe me, Tessa. I’m quite aware you’re a woman.” He takes me in his arms and gives me a scorching kiss, leaving me breathless. “See you soon, beautiful.”
I stare at the closed door long after he’s gone, wondering what’s so important about me coming in today. Shouldn’t an email suffice? Maybe it’s just a formality, but my southern intuition tells me the suited sex god is up to something. Perhaps we’ve both been less than forthcoming.
“Good morning, Miss Holly,” Lawrence says as I climb into the back of the car. “You’re looking lovely today.”
“Thank you.” His compliment seems genuine, and I appreciate it. I want to make a good impression when I walk into Hammond on my last official day.
When we arrive at the building, I exit the car and hold my head high as I walk inside the lobby where it all began with spilled coffee.
I take the elevator to the top floor and plant myself in my chair at precisely ten. My cubicle is exactly as I left it on Friday—sticky notes scattered along the sidewall and artwork for the Hamming It Up Instagram campaign lying next to my computer.
I can’t deny I feel horribly sad and disappointed knowing this will be my last time sitting here. I only just began chasing my dream, and I loved everything about the job, except it’s dating policy.
Grabbing a tissue from the box on my desk, I dab my eyes. I know I made the right decision to leave in the end, but facing what I’ll miss head-on makes my heart hurt. I wish they accepted my email resignation instead of subjecting me to this torture.
I sit at my desk and make a list of other companies that were once interested in me. I canceled their interviews after I accepted my position and sold my blog to Hammond Press. Poor Shakespurr is out of my hands now, and that stings the worst.
“Good morning, Tessa.” Ms. Young, my soon to be ex-boss, startles me from my thoughts. She leans over my cubicle with an odd smile on her face. At least she’s not mad at me, or is faking it, but that’s not her style.
“Good morning?” I say, confused all around with the way she’s treating me under the circumstances.
