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“I maintain that I told you about him before,” Lia said for the fifth time this morning, clinking away at her dishes now. We’d been lazily on speakerphone with each other since 6:30AM, drifting in and out of our half-assed argument to brush our teeth, make coffee and get ready.
“Disagree.” I sat hunched over my laptop at the end of my dining table, wearing just a bra and a half-zipped pencil skirt. I really needed to get my shit together, but Internet stalking was like Pringles. Once you pop, the fun don’t stop. “I swear, you didn’t tell me shit, woman.”
“Oh no,” Lia muttered distractedly to herself. “Did I just chip my favorite mug?” I heard some tinkering before she breathed out in relief. “Oh, thank God, I didn’t. You know what I did do though? Tell you about Julian. A long time ago. On three or four separate occasions.”
Yeah, she was probably right. I had just been so absorbed in work back then.
“Well, if you did, you didn’t harass me hard enough to listen. Or offer the juicy details, like how he owns Hoult Freaking Publishing,” I said as I scrolled through Getty Images of Julian in crisp suits, looking devastatingly handsome at various glitzy events. Chill, I told myself as I compared two pictures, trying to distinguish if he was posing with the same pretty girl in both. The answer was no, but I wasn’t pleased with myself for getting that worked up for a second.
“Whatever. Stop Googling pictures of him. I can hear you furiously clicking.”
“Hoult Publishing, Lia,” I derailed. “I’ll never forgive you for this.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I heard her cracking eggs on the other end as she giggled. “To be fair, I have no idea what Hoult Publishing is. When I first met Julian, everyone was talking about how he just bought a baseball team, so I thought that was what he did.”
“Yeah, that’s also fucking crazy. The fact that he owns the Empires? They’re killing it this season.”
“Whatever. Is baseball brown ball or white ball? And are you leaving for work yet?”
“Almost. I just need to finish getting dressed.”
“Isn’t the point of your dirty little job to not be dressed?” Lia teased.
“Only on days that I’m meeting with the Perv Brothers, and even then, I do have to keep it tasteful. I can’t just waltz into the conference room wearing a thong and fishnets.”
Lia scoffed. “Of course not. You’d need sequined nipple tassels too.”
“I would never wear sequins to work, Lia. You know I would keep it classy – pinstriped nipple tassels, only. Maybe khaki ones on Fridays,” I grinned as she audibly choked on her coffee. “In all seriousness though, I do need to maintain some air of professionalism… which probably also requires being on time,” I groaned, finally dragging my ass away from my laptop and to my closet. I grabbed the blue button-up I’d ironed last night and my thin red belt with the fine gold clasp. Lia read my mind.
“Time check is eight-fifteen.”
“Shit, really?” My fingers flew over my buttons as I glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. “God, I refuse to be late. On the first day or any.”
“Breathe, girl. You won’t be late if you leave right now. Just check for panty lines on the way out,” Lia instructed just as I twisted my body while passing the bathroom mirror.
“All good.”
“Buttons straight?”
Grabbing my purse, I glanced down my front to confirm the buttons, but instead I laughed aloud at the sight of my cleavage.
“Oh God. This bra is killer,” I said as I shoved ear buds into my phone to take Lia off speaker and bring her with me out the door.
“Tell me you wore The One.”
“I did.” It was by far the best push-up in my small collection, but The One was rarely ever worn. Its lifting powers were too intense for a regular day basis, so it was saved for special occasions – and, apparently, first days of work.
“He’s gonna get one look of the girls in that thing and go nuts. I hope you’re prepared for some hot, sweaty, bent-over-the-desk office sex. You realize that’s happening, right?”
“As much as I wouldn’t mind it, I’m not sure,” I smirked as I flew down the hall of my building and out the door.
“What? Why aren’t you sure?” Lia asked incredulously. “That man is definitely dying to get a moment alone with you already. First it was that barge-in at the hotel, then it was hiding you from that guy yesterday,” she said, referring to Julian hastily sending me home in a cab so I could avoid Turner Roth and any questions about working for Julian that I wouldn’t know how to answer. “Trust me, girl. That man is waiting to pounce.”
“We’ll see. Judging from yesterday, Julian Hoult is a very different beast when he’s in work mode. He’s in a different world completely. He’s intense, and he’s focused, and actually, it’s insanely fucking hot and I’m really not sure how I’m going to handle it. But anyway, I’m almost at the train so I’m gonna lose service. I’ll call you at the end of the day.”
“No, you’ll text me live updates as your day goes on, except for when you’re actively having sex with Julian.”
“Ha. I’ll talk to you later.”
