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None of it mattered, not really. I’d learned to accept it and take pride in my own accomplishments a long time ago, but this… this,promisefelt warm in my belly.
The promise of fair treatment. The prospect of taking on Verity without all the fanfare and the glamour and the hype that usually follows her around.
Maybe, just maybe, I could go up against Princess Verity Faverley on an even playing field and win.
I could win.
And maybe I wanted to. The feeling felt alien, cold and scaly but surprisingly compelling.
“What are you thinking?” Carl said, and he was still staring at me, his eyes eating me up.
I put my champagne on the side. “Let’s start on those technical slides,” I said.
I soaked it all in, everything he told me. Went over the slides again and again until they made sense. I wanted to please him, wanted to get it right.
Rick hung out with us, playing retro arcade games on his tablet while we crunched sales statistics. His hip was pressed to mine, the tickle of his beard against my shoulder as Carl and I talked work. He didn’t hurry us, or try to interject, just kept himself amused in his own little bubble while we worked away right next to him.
I imagined he was used to it.
Carl split the remaining champagne between our three glasses. “Don’t get too caught up in the technicalities,” he said. “It’s about forming relationships, not about selling technology. You just need enough of the framework to add value to the client.”
I nodded. “Can’t hurt, though, right? Knowing the details?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised. Sometimes a little knowledge does more harm than good.”
“Score,” Rick announced. He showed us his tablet, a new personal best on Frogger. “Piss and smoke calling, think I’ll bail while I’m winning.”
I watched his ass as he walked away, and Carl smirked at me.
“Our lovely Richard has a mighty fine derriere.”
I smiled. “He does.” And I imagined Carl fucking him. The thought sent tingles through my tits. This champagne was certainly loosening me up. I stretched out my legsas Carl closed down his laptop, watching his fingers dance over the keyboard. He shut the lid and pushed it aside.
“So,” he said. “Was that worthwhile?”
“I hope so.”
“Quite a turnaround, considering you planned to tell your father to get stuffed a few hours ago. I’m impressed.”
“It’s an opportunity,” I said. “For something special, something I really want. Might as well make the best of it.”
“My sentiments exactly.”
He was still in his suit, still cutting a professional edge even though he was at ease on the sofa. I dared to reach out, ghost his cheek with my fingers. His eyes met mine and stayed there.
“Thanks,” I said. “For everything today.”
“You’re welcome. Just get me some decent results next week.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He draped an arm across my shoulders, curling his hand around to point at my tits. “Bite me, baby. I could have done without seeing such an invitation plastered across your tits all day.”
“Don’t,” I groaned. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m never wearing these clothes again.”
“Not ever?” He feigned horror. “But I quite like them.”
“Whatever, Carl.”
