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“So, Mr. Fitzgerald, it seems that I had time for my witty repertoire after all.”
I couldn’t believe what I was saying. Sure, I’d been mouthy my whole life, with it getting me into as much trouble as it got me out of. But snarking to my boss of a massive media company was a lot different than being a smart aleck to a foster dad who got drunk a little too early a little too often.
I looked up at him, fearing the worst but refusing to let my face show it. If my own stupid temper was going to get me kicked out, I wasn’t going to let him know how I felt about it. My feelings were the only things that I had real ownership of my entire life, which was one of the reasons I liked to keep them so private. Sure, people called me tightly laced, stuck up, or prudish, but they never knew enough to hurt me.
He held my stare for a long time, but I couldn’t read anything on his face before he spoke. “You know that list I gave you was for the whole week. Well, what I thought you’d last of it.”
“Good,” I said far more bravely than I felt. “Then we’re ahead of schedule. This will just give us more time to prepare for the coming corner.” He was still staring at me and I didn’t know if I wanted to run, or hide, or slug him in the face. “So, shall I head down to the meeting now, or might I have a break until then?”
He blinked at me and that’s when I figured it out. He was surprised! I had really managed to take him off guard. That was definitely something else. I wasn’t used to being able to shock a man who ran his own empire.
“You may have a break.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I said, tipping my head before walking out.
But as I did exit, I did so with squared shoulders. It was hard not to feel like the cat that got the canary, satisfaction running through my veins. Because I knew that I had been able to do what no one had in quite possibly a long, long while.
I’d gotten him off center. And business guys like that, whose entire lives depending on them being in control… well, it made me feel powerful. Like I was his equal instead of just some little underling that fetched his coffee and organized his life.
Still, I knew I was playing a dangerous game. With men like him, it was better to fly under the radar, yet I had just challenged him straight to his face.
I guess I just had to hope he didn’t hold it against me.
Fitz
My new assistant was something else.
That was the thought that kept swirling through my head every day, almost every hour I was at work. We were at the start of our third week together and she was far and away the best assistant that I could have ever asked for.
No matter what I asked her to do, she did it promptly and efficiently. She never huffed, she never whined, apparently, she didn’t even complain to other workers. She just looked forward with those determined eyes of her and then boom, the task was done.
I knew that I was pushing her a bit harder than any other assistant, but it didn’t even seem to ruffle her. And I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I so desperately wanted to see her ruffled. To see that tense, impenetrable way she held herself crumble and break until whatever was hiding under it was revealed.
I guess I was too used to seeing through people, to having them posture or break in my presence. But with her… to her I just seemed like another stimuli that didn’t affect her day beyond setting her schedule.
“Sir, did you want me to organize these by date, price or client?”
Her voice, low and a bit raspy, like a jazz singer in some sort of smoky lounge, called my attention back to her. Not that it had strayed at all, but I had been forcing myself to stare at my computer instead of at her.
Because God, did she make a vision at the moment.
She was sitting on a small stool in front of my drafting table, receipts spread all across the flat surface. The circumference of her seat wasn’t anywhere big enough for her round, lush ass, so most of her was hanging off in that plaid pencil skirt she was wearing. I could easily imagine myself grabbing all that excess with both my hands, my fingers sinking into that sinful softness until there wasn’t anymore left. Leaving red marks, maybe a light bruise or two. Nothing to hurt, just little marks that were proof I had been there.
