Page 4 of Red, White & Bang


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I cannot believe we rolled around in poison ivy for as long as we did, but nothing else mattered and I kinda love that about us. The only place I even have a rash is the top of my thigh, which itches like fucking crazy. I got off relatively easy. Quincy’s lower belly and thighs are completely covered. I must not be as allergic as he is.

After lunch, I head to the break lounge. I need coffee and maybe a Danish to get me through the rest of the day. The fourth of July being on a Thursday really messed my week up. Thank God it’s almost five. In the break room, I find Belle, the girl I met her on my first day. She’s super nice and as I understand it a single mother. I do know she’s taken up with Jefferson, Quincy’s cousin. They make a cute couple. As I am waiting for the coffee to brew, we chat. While we do so, I am steadily scratching the crap out of my thigh.

“Um, are you okay?” she asks raising an eyebrow at me.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just some poison ivy. It’s not a big deal.” Belle’s eyes widen.

“Poison ivy?” she questions.

“Yes.”

“That’s weird. Jefferson just told me that Quincy has it too.” My eyes widen. Quincy and I never discussed how we were going to handle this. I don’t know what I should say.

“Um,” is all that I can manage. I must look like a deer in the headlights.

“Oh my God,” she squeals loudly, turning heads in the room.

“Shh,” I scold.

“You and Quincy totally did it in the woods,” she whispers.

“Okay, yes we did, but we haven’t talked about it, so I don’t want anyone else to know about it.”

“I totally understand. Your secret is safe with me,” she says gesturing locking her lips and throwing away the key. I giggle and we spend the next few minutes talking about other topics while we wait on the coffee. Why does the nectar of the Gods take so friggin’ long to make? You’d think a company like Cox would have better coffee makers than they do!

Finally, with my coffee in hand, I make my way back to my cubicle. On my desk is a pile of papers that weren’t there before. Reading through the material, I see that this is the product specs for a GPS tracker that Cox wants to make available to the public. I read through the material and a marketing campaign immediately comes to mind. I spend the rest of the day putting specs together to show the bosses.

After a weekend of doing nothing but making love, I find myself back at work. To say that I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning would be an understatement. At ten-thirty, my desk phone rings, I don’t recognize the extension as being Dwight’s, but I answer it anyway.

“This is Gina Henry. How can I help you?” I ask cheerfully.

“Ms. Henry, please report to my office, sans panties,” Quincy demands. I can tell from the sound of his voice that he’s hard as a rock. I blush.

“Yes. Mr. Cox. Right away,” I say hanging up. Standing, I rush to the elevators and take the first one that comes to the thirty-fifth floor. I walk briskly to his office where I am stopped by a curvy, gorgeous woman. She looks young though.

“Can I help you?” she asks snottily.

“Mr. Cox is expecting me,” I say, my happiness dimming a bit. Quincy has given me no reason to be jealous, yet I am. Very much so.

“Your name?”

“Gina Henry.”

“You’re not on his schedule. I can make you an appointment for a later date,” she says as his office door opens.

“Ashleigh, stop giving my fiancée a hard time.”

“Oh my God. You’re the Gina? Quincy hasn’t stopped talking about you for weeks now. Sorry I was such a bitch.”

“Language, Ashleigh,” he says, and she rolls her eyes.

“I’m Ashleigh Cox,” she says coming around the desk. I shake her extended hand. “Q’s younger sister.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Ashleigh,” I say honestly.

“She’s sixteen going on sixty,” Quincy says chuckling. “Go bother Truman for a while.”

“Fine. Fine. I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll be at Truman & Ivy’s for the night.”

“Sounds good. Bye Ash.”

“Bye bro.”

When she’s gone, I turn back to him. He’s leaning on the door frame. My mouth goes dry. Holy shit, he looks like sin in his Italian suit.

“Fiancée?” I question.

“Soon enough,” he says, shrugging.

“You seem mighty sure of yourself,” I tease.

“I am. Now, come in,” he says stepping out of the way. I step into the room and before the door closes, I’m up in his arms. Our lips crash together, I moan. “I missed you, bad girl.”

“I missed you too. Two and a half hours away from you is way too long.”

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