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“You have a visitor, Travis.”
Are you fucking kidding me?
“Uh…” I exhale, trying to catch my breath. “Not now. I’m busy.”
“It’s your lunch, asshole.” I hear Viola’s voice on the other end. Fuck, this can’t be good.
“I’ll be right there,” I say, pulling away from Alyssa.
“What are you doing?” she whines, licking her lips.
“You need to leave.”
“Seriously?” She stands, adjusting her skirt and top. “I cut out early on a budget meeting to come see you, and you kick me out before I’m even done?” She cocks a brow, and I know she’s pissed.
I begin pushing her out the door. “Never come in here again. We meet somewhere else,” I remind her of the rules. “You’ll get me fired.”
She tilts her head, rubbing a hand on my cheek. “Maybe this’ll teach you to stand me up.” She winks, grabbing the door handle and letting herself out.
I sigh in relief, buttoning my suit jacket. I’m about to go meet Viola at the receptionist’s desk, when I see her coming this way.
Oh, fucking hell.
“What part of ‘I’ll be right there’ got lost in translation?” I ask, knowing it’ll piss her off even more.
“Don’t start with me. I brought you your damn lunch.” She throws a brown bag at me.
“Would it kill you to be polite?” I tease, knowing asking Drew would lead to Viola at my office again.
Her eyes graze down my body and land on my groin. “Would it kill you to stop screwing every bimbo you come across?”
I glance down and see the tent I’m sporting.
“It would actually.”
She rolls her eyes and turns back toward reception. “I may or may not have added a little special ingredient in your sandwich. Enjoy the extra saliva,” she calls back over her shoulder.
I smirk. “I always do!”
She flips me the bird and turns for the elevators.
I laugh and shake my head. Fighting with Viola is the best foreplay I’ve had in a long time.
Once I’m seated back at my desk, I open the brown bag and grab the sandwich out of the Ziploc bag. It’s lumpy, and I’m even more hesitant to eat it.
What the hell?
I peel back one side of the sandwich and see she’s crushed up hot Cheetos on top of peanut butter, pickles, and sunflower seeds. It looks just as gross as it sounds.
But fuck it, I’m starving so I take a bite anyway.
Blake storms in promptly at four p.m. and asks if I have everything finished. Somehow, I just managed to complete the review minutes before he came in, so I proudly hand it over to him.
“All done, sir,” I say, giving him a cocky salute.
“Really?” He looks impressed, but I can tell by the way his jaw clenches that he was banking on me failing.
“Yup. It’s not easy having beauty and brains, but someone’s got to do it.”
