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Chapter Eight
Tuesday morning, dressed in a new, way too expensive velvet corset that I may or may not have worn last night–shhh–hidden beneath a simple black blazer and matching black, cropped slacks, I walked into Reed Tower with renewed confidence and a new spring in my step.
My boss might be an asshole, but I knew things about him that no one else here knew.
And something about that thrilled me to no end.
It also made me want him more, but that was a problem I had to pretend did not exist.
I stepped off the elevator onto the seventy-third floor ten minutes early, anxious to squeeze in a few minutes of catching up with Marisa before I headed up to seventy-four to start shadowing Blanca for my second day of interning.
I couldn’t tell Marisa about seeing Reed at the Rabbit Hole, obviously–that would definitely cross a line, and I wasn’t about to make that mistake a second time–but I wanted to tell her about my new job at White Rabbit.
Practically bursting at the seams, I hurried over to her, grinning when she walked around the desk to hug me. I’d liked her instantly yesterday, and this small gesture made me feel like that hadn’t been one-sided. Until now, my closest friends had been Greer and her grandfather, although he basically just tolerated me living in the old brownstone.
“I found a job!” I announced proudly when we broke our embrace.
“Ooh, yay!” Marisa’s eyes widened and she clapped her hands. “Where?”
“It’s this lingerie store called White Rabbit, have you heard of it? It’s down on–”
“Are you lost, Ms. Blake?”
The sound of his voice nearly brought me to my knees. How could I work for him when I wanted him so badly?
When I now knew this about him?
This private, personal thing?
This thing I wanted to be a part of.
I recovered quickly, meeting Marisa’s wide eyes before I braced myself and turned around to face Cabot Reed.
Master Creed.
I’d seen the man nearly naked.
I’d seen him engaged in… activities that were not workplace-appropriate.
Dressed in head-to-toe navy blue with a crisp white dress shirt beneath his suit and a striking magenta pocket square peeking out of his breast pocket, Cabot Reed was just as intimidating and impressive clothed as he was last night shirtless and barefoot.
Although I much preferred the latter.
His suits were clearly bespoke, and the way they hugged each bulge of his biceps, stretched across his wide shoulders…
I pictured those shoulders bare, the way they moved as he whipped his assistant last night–
Noooooope. I couldn’t allow myself to entertain those thoughts about Cabot Reed. He was my boss.
And he was a jerk, tailored suits or otherwise.
A true control freak through and through.
I mean, during his free time he had people calling him Master, for God’s sake.
I swallowed past the thickness in my throat and offered the man a tight smile. “Mr. Reed. Good morning.”
He raised one eyebrow, as if the simple greeting was somehow amusing, then glanced down at his watch and motioned toward the elevator. “Come.”
The command sent a gentle shiver down my spine.
Shit.
I looked back at Marisa over my shoulder, whose eyes were even wider than before, then the elevator doors opened and I stepped inside.
Reed entered behind me, then stood too close for comfort as the doors closed. I sidestepped, giving the man some space.
“We’ll begin by reviewing some of the items on my desk. I have a few manuscripts that need my attention before they go to print. I’d like to see what you think of them before I return them to the editing department.”
I met his gaze in the reflection of the doors… safer than meeting it head on. “I thought you were busy this week.”
“I am always busy, Ms. Blake.”
I rubbed my lips together as irritation prickled the back of my neck. “I was under the impression that I’d be shadowing Mrs. Arroyo this week, while you and your father prepared for the transition of power.”
He turned to face me. “I was under the impression that you wanted to shadow the head of Reed Publishing.”
I breathed deeply through my nose, immediately regretting it as the delicious scent of him threatened to knock me senseless. And now, thanks to one night spent at the Rabbit Hole with the man, I’d forever link the smell to… other things.
Sexy things.
I squeezed my eyes shut until the image of Reed spinning his arms in those slow circles passed.
“Something wrong, Ms. Blake?”
I nearly snorted. Was something wrong?
Oh, so many things.
Lines.
Were.
Blurred.
“No, sir.”
I needed to get my shit together. I worked my ass off to get into this position, and, until I’d met him, I’d been thoroughly looking forward to working beneath him.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus. I nearly groaned as my brain paired those words with an image of this domineering man above me.
Whipping me.
One night at a fetish club and suddenly reading BDSM romance wasn’t enough; I now wanted to star in one.
The elevator doors opened and Reed motioned for me to step out first, then followed, passing me as he strode toward his office. He shot a glare toward the empty chair at the reception desk, and looked over to where Scary Stella usually sat. Wonder where she was this morning.
Once inside Reed’s office, he barked, “Sit.”
I plopped down into one of the chairs facing his desk, then began to adjust myself, trying to get comfortable. The seat was hard as cement and even less giving.
Standing behind his high back leather chair, he paused the unbuttoning of his coat. “Everything all right?”
“No, actually.” I repositioned myself again. “These chairs are really uncomfortable.”
“So people won’t overstay their welcome.” He stripped out of his sportcoat, and as he draped it over the back of the chair, my gaze zeroed in on his strong arms and the way they stretched the fabric of his dress shirt.
Is it hot in here? I glanced around, searching for the air conditioning vent.
Cabot sat down in the chair and watched me from across the desk. “Let’s address the elephant in the room.”
Oh? Okay. So we were going to talk about last night? Well then. Hit me with it, Master Creed.
“You haven’t said anything about your gift.”
My gift?
My eyebrows furrowed, and then my brain joined the conversation and I remembered what he was talking about. My gift. The gilded Simona Steele hardcover. That was the elephant he wanted to talk about? Not the fact that last night I’d seen him whipping someone at a fetish club?
All right. I could do this. I could play along.
