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Needing to get to my cubicle before nine, I pushed my way through the revolving glass doors. My heels clicked against the polished tiles, and I waved at Tony, the gray-haired and wizened security guard who always had a smile for me.
When I reached the elevator, the doors were about to close, but I stuck my foot in before they did. I didn’t want to give Linda, my manager, a reason to roll her eyes at me for my tardiness again—something I was known for. Timeliness had been a lifelong struggle. I wasn’t cut out for the hustle and bustle of corporate life, but since I had bills and college loans to pay, the next thirty years of my existence, from nine till five, would be spent in a cubicle.
If I could have, I would have spent my days volunteering at animal shelters but giving love to abandoned pets and strays wouldn’t give me medical or a 401k. Growing up, I had no kind of financial security, and it was the one thing I was determined to give myself even if that meant a life of dreary monotony. No matter what path my life took or how bad my luck sometimes appeared to be, I’d always make sure I had money in the bank for a rainy day.
I stepped inside the half-full but silent elevator and peered around. Great. Sloane. The bane of my life. She lifted her flawless porcelain doll face from her phone and glanced at me with distaste. My Goodwill ensemble obviously didn’t meet with her approval. I didn’t see the point in spending money on new clothes when I could pick up something just as good from a thrift store.
The secret was to find one near an upscale neighborhood. I’d scored Coach bags, Jimmy Choo shoes, and even found a few Anne Klein suits that fitted me perfectly. Who cared if they were so last season? I always appeared put together and professional no matter the price tag.
I met Sloane’s disapproving gaze, and for a second, I wondered what it would be like to have a trust fund and a daddy who paid for everything.
Without saying a word—her face said everything—Sloane’s attention went back to her phone.
The elevator stopped on the second floor, and a group of executives in somber business suits stepped in. The last one to step in was Kane. My heart beat so fast and hard I was sure everyone could hear it. An image of me throwing myself at his feet and offering to suck his cock formed in my mind. I bit my lip to stop the laughter bubbling up inside of me at such a ludicrous thought and image.
I wanted him to look at me and acknowledge me, to somehow let me know that Friday night wasn’t a moment of madness and was something he deeply regretted.
Sloane lowered her phone and greeted Kane with her perfect veneered smile, and I immediately wanted to kick off my stiletto and stab her blackened heart.
“Good morning, Mr. McKenzie. Daddy so enjoyed golfing with you yesterday,” she simpered in a sickly-sweet voice that seemed several octaves higher than usual. “Such a shame we had to leave and come back to the city. We should have cocktails next time you’re at the club.”
“Perhaps,” he said, giving her a polite nod.
He punched in a code then hit the button for the penthouse. As soon as the elevator began moving, he turned his attention to me. “Did you have a good weekend, Reese?”
I swallowed hard, and blood rushed to my cheeks. “Oh, you know, the usual. A lovely jaunt out to the Hamptons on Daddy’s yacht followed by a rousing game of croquet on the lawn of his beachfront mansion. He has his servants cut the grass with nail scissors to make sure it’s perfect.”
I could see he was doing his best to hold back his laughter. “Is that so?”
“Yes. Daddy says the balls roll better on hand-cut grass.”
“Good to know,” he said with a chuckle. “Remember the assignment I discussed with you on Friday?”
“Yes, Sir.” It was on the tip of my tongue to say, God, yes, it’s all I’ve thought about.
“Good. You’ll find the details in the top drawer of your desk. Make it your priority and see it’s attended to as soon as possible and report back to me as soon as you’re finished.”
“I’ll get to it right away.” Unicorns and fairies pranced around my feet and angels sat on top of my shoulders. He didn’t regret what had happened, and the proof was waiting at my desk. Ha! Take that along with your cocktails, Sloane, and shove them up your ass along with the stick already lodged there.
The elevator stopped on the fifth floor, and both Sloane and I stepped out into the hallway, but before I got further than a few steps, she blocked my path.
