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“We can work this out,” he said, sounding a bit desperate. “I don’t want to lose you as an assistant.”
I would have preferred that sentence without the qualifier. But what did I expect? I knew how he treated the women he slept with. It had only been a few days since I had to evict one of them for him. Oh God, why did I lose my mind and have sex with him? And why did I still want to do it again?
“I think it will be too weird,” I said, crawling to the spot where my other stocking ended up.
When I turned back he’d done up his pants and slipped on his shirt, but it was still unbuttoned, showing his toned six pack abs and muscular pecs.
“It’s not going to be weird.”
I could see marks on his skin from where I’d dug in my fingernails. There. Exhibit A in things already being weird. He saw me staring at his chest and slowly started buttoning his shirt.
“Nothing has to change,” he promised.
My mouth dropped open. Was he going to keep making me miserable? That almost seemed worse than things being weird. How would I feel the next time he let me have it for a mistake now that he’d given me two excessively good orgasms. And damn it, I wanted another one. I stood up and put on my shoes, smoothed my skirt and hair, and reached for the door. It was locked, which I didn’t remember him doing, we were that crazed. I knew there were plenty of times I could have backed out. The damn phone even rang twice, giving us ample opportunities.
He jumped up and came over, putting his hands on my shoulders and just as quickly dropping them. “Please don’t quit. Take the day off. Do you want me to book you a spa session?”
I gaped at him. “I can’t take a payment for this,” I said, horrified.
He gaped right back at me. “Jesus, it’s not a payment.” His brows furrowed, and he looked pissed. Now things were starting to feel somewhat normal again, as pathetic as that was. “I thought it might help relax you. You’re clearly tense.”
“Yeah, I’m tense,” I snapped. I waved at the couch. “That wasn’t professional.”
“I’m not blaming you,” he said, then held up his hands in surrender. “Let’s talk about it more tomorrow. Promise me you’ll be back here tomorrow.”
I didn’t want to lose this job that I adored. And the thought of never seeing Eli again, awkwardness or not, sent a stab of pain to my heart. I nodded.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” I said.
I left in a daze of confusion and regret. Confused about why I was leaving and regretting that I wasn’t still locked in Eli’s office with him, letting him work his magic on my body. Which was exactly why I had to go, and why I knew I should never return.
Chapter 15 - Eli
How was I letting her walk out of the office, possibly out of my life? I had to sit down or risk freaking out as badly as Violet did. I couldn’t let her quit. If word got back to Will, and it would, he’d know instantly why and really bring the hammer down. We all ran our magazines differently, but we all did one thing the same. We were rigorous about not fraternizing with subordinates. It only led to losing good employees and opened the company up to lawsuits. If she never came back, Will was going to kill me.
I ran my hand over my face and groaned. I knew it went deeper than that. I wanted Violet to come back because I needed her. Real panic set in as that settled. Did IneedViolet? From an assistant standpoint, she was very good, but if I had managed to replace Alfred, I was certain I could replace Violet. The thought made me actually feel sick enough to glance toward my bathroom. No, I was not physically ill at the thought of not seeing Violet anymore.
Except I was. I knew I liked her. That was easy enough to admit. What was wrong with liking a coworker? Nothing. It was when you fell in love with them that the problems arose. I went to the bathroom after all and splashed cold water on my face. I looked at my pathetic reflection in the mirror and knew it was true. I kept trying to deny it, but there it was, staring me right in the face. I was in love with Violet.
My mind went blank. On autopilot, I finished up my work, then headed home in a daze. As I rode up my elevator, I wondered if she was okay. Maybe I should call her to make sure. Maybe she’d want to come over. If she decided to quit, did that mean I could properly date her?
The thought almost made me go berserk. This wasn’t happening. In my apartment, I poured myself a glass of wine, but it tasted sour. I ate a sandwich, but the cheese was dry.
“If Violet felt the same as you, she wouldn’t have fled like she was wanted by the FBI,” I said aloud to my half eaten sandwich.
I did make her fairly miserable the first couple of weeks. But then we really clicked and all was well. Then I acted like a jackass again. Then we slept together.
What the fuck? Why was I so stressed about this? I did not love Violet, that was just stress. It was only my family interfering with my life making me think I needed to settle down. I didn’t. True love was a fairy tale. Or a cruel joke. If someone was lucky enough to find their other half, then they went down in a plane crash and left you alone to raise two traumatized kids. The reality of relationships was they ended, and the person you thought you loved moved across an ocean.
I tried to think about my brother Ben, who seemed to have found the real deal out in Montana. She was a wild one, literally jumping off cliffs for a living, and she seemed to bring out the best in him. He barely left his apartment for a year, nearly driving his magazines into the ground, and now he was thriving and planning a wedding. Why couldn’t I find that?
I did, and I chased it away.
I shook myself out of my depressing thoughts and headed out. I needed a distraction. The first bar I went to was dead, the second too loud and crowded with college kids. I ended up at an old favorite I hadn’t been to in a while and settled in at the polished walnut bar, trying to let the soothing jazz piano calm my nerves. Or a whiskey and soda.
I slammed the first drink down and waved for another. Time to drown my feelings. Except the damn things refused to be drowned. I needed a stronger distraction and looked around to see a pretty redhead at the end of the bar looking my way. I gave her a half smile and a subtle nod, then turned back to my drink. It was barely twenty seconds later and she slid onto the stool beside me.
“Hey,” she said. I think she told me her name, but I forgot it instantly. It was better that way.
