Page 5 of The Office Guest


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“Great! Now, onto the fourth quarter projections, and how we’re measuring up against the competition.”

I tune out her words and return to thoughts of impaling my eyeballs.

Then again, from the sound of things, that probably wouldn’t get anyone’s attention.

I’ve been working at this company for a little under a year, and I’m officially convinced that corporate life is not for me.

I don’t even know what we “do” here.

The impossibly early mornings, paper-pushing afternoons, and “emergency” evening meetings have broken bits and pieces of my soul. Since every employee is cutthroat and desperate to move up the ladder, bonding with a single coworker outside the office has been impossible. Once, when I brought custom cookies to share in the break room, someone reported me to Human Resources for “trying to poison the competition with gluten.”

If that’s not bad enough, the “beloved” CEO thinks that every person on the planet lives to serve his every waking need. Being the overworked yet empathetic person I am, I’ve decided to take the high road by saying a daily prayer for him.

Dear God, please murder my boss. Thank you so much in advance. Amen.

As Mindy passes out a new set of folders, the entire room falls silent. Heavy footsteps sound behind me, and the woman beside me gasps, which only means one thing...

“Good evening.” Mr. Reiss’s presence spins my heart into a reckless rhythm.Rumor has it that his deep voice alone is capable of making any woman’s panties wet with ease.

Any woman’s panties except mine, of course.

“I hope you won’t mind if I sit in on this meeting,” he says.

“We’d prefer if you put us out of our misery and finally end it.” I mutter.

“What was that, Georgia?” Mindy asks.

“I said, what’s better than having our beloved boss look over our shoulders and watch our every move?”

“There’s nothing better!” She practically trips over herself as she pours him a cup of coffee.

Taking his precious time to walk around the table, Mr. Reiss takes the seat directly across from me. Then he smiles his perfect “I know I’m sexy as hell” smile that makes his chiseled jawline even more pronounced, and my nipples harden under my blouse.

I can’t help but cross my legs next.

No matter how many times I see this ma—in person or in print—my mind veers down a winding, wet lane of forbidden fantasies.

When I first saw him, I thought he was a walking, breathing dream. That the angels above had sprinkled every bit of their “most attractive man on earth” dust on him to cement him as their best work.

But the first time I heard him speak - a mere, “I’m not paying you to stare at me all day, Miss Grey” – I wanted to stab him in the throat.

“Don’t let me derail the meeting,” he says. “Carry on with your presentation, Miss Sterling.”

She picks up without missing a beat, and I try to look away from the devil dressed in black, but I can’t.

At least not right now…

He brings the mug to his lips, taking a slow sip while keeping his deep blue eyes on mine, and my body betrays me with a rush of heat.

“I want to ensure all the hotels have special gift bags to make our guests happy.” Mindy drones on, and I finally force myself to look away, but I can still feel Mr. Reiss staring in my direction.

By the time Mindy gets tired of hearing herself talk, it’s ten o’clock in the evening, and I’ve missed the season premiere of my favorite show.

I stuff my folders into a briefcase and head toward the door, hoping to make it home to catch the replay.

Mr. Reiss presses his hand against the doorframe as I approach.

“Can I speak to you for a moment, Miss Grey?” he asks.

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