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Prologue
One year ago…
Summer
Alittleswooshsoundedon my phone. Disappointment flooded me as I stared at the text I’d just received.
Jack Hartman:I can’t make our lunch meeting. Something’s come up. Reschedule?
I wanted to be angry with him. Complain to him. Whine a bit, maybe. Stalk by his office to see what was up. But I’d do none of those things because I was a professional and he was my boss. I hissed out a breath and typed out a reply.
Me:Sure
Meek. Compliant. Doormat.
No, I was strong. Confident. In total control of my emotions. Mature. Yeah.
It was well past noon and the office lunch crew had already left. I could probably text Jana and find out where they went, but I wasn’t in the mood for that exuberant crowd today. I could hit the cafeteria, but that didn’t appeal either.
So fast food it was. There was nothing like a greasy burger to lift a bad mood. I pulled my raincoat off the hook in my cubicle and grabbed my umbrella before I headed out the door.
I walked as briskly as I could manage in my high heels through the wet parking lot with my umbrella held over my head, thankfully blocking most of the rain. I passed by Jack’s metallic gray Range Rover parked in its usual spot. Every time I went in and out of the building, I couldn’t help but look for it.
Thirty minutes later, I was sitting in my car finishing up my super-value meal. It had cheered me a little, but my mind was still on Jack. I wanted to see him. Hell, I needed to see him. That’s when the plan started to take shape in my head.
After cleaning my fingers with some hand wipes I kept in the glove box, I drove out of the parking lot and onto the highway. I passed by the Days Inn on my left, the one that charged $88 per night. Less than a mile down was a small strip mall that contained a liquor store. I picked out a bottle of champagne and bought two novelty glasses that had been on display near the register. I headed back to work and waited.
The day went on forever. I tried my best to concentrate on work, but I was constantly daydreaming about my plan. I was so distracted. At 5 o’clock, most people were packing up to head home for the night. A few had left even earlier. As was usual, by 6 o’clock the place was deserted.
I plucked my jacket — a beige trench coat that tightened at the waist with a wide belt and fell to mid-thigh — from its hook and strolled casually to the ladies’ room, scanning the cubicles along the way. To my relief, no one was working late.
Inside the bathroom stall, I took off all my clothes until I was standing naked in my black stilettos. I slipped into the trench coat and tied it closed with the belt, forgoing the buttons. When I stepped back in front of the bathroom mirror, I felt uncomfortably exposed when I saw my bare legs sticking out from the coat, but realistically, anyone would assume I was wearing clothes, maybe a short skirt. I assessed my appearance critically to make sure no one could guess that I was naked underneath.
I freshened up my hair and makeup and then wrapped my clothing into a tight ball. I took a deep breath, trying to tame the butterfly riot in my stomach, and then headed back to my cubicle. All was quiet. I dropped my clothes onto my office chair and then slid the chair completely under my desk. That way, no one would see the small pile of clothes if they happened to walk by.
This next part was tricky. I didn’t want to be seen carrying a bottle of champagne to Jack’s office. How would I explain that? I decided to do a quick reconnaissance stroll without the champagne first. Jack’s office was a corner office, down the end of a short hallway. Everything was quiet as I headed toward the hall. The only other office in Jack’s hall, Ben Miller’s, was empty. Across the hall, the conference room was dark. The coast was clear.
A few more steps let me see that the door to Jack’s office was shut. That meant he was still there. Jack was always the last to leave. He was the boss, after all. Thank God. I would have felt stupid getting naked under this coat if he had already left for the day.
My body surged with giddy anticipation as I hurried back to my cubicle and pulled the champagne bottle and glasses out from under my desk. I suppressed a giggle as I imagined Jack’s face when I opened my trench coat and let it drop to the floor in a puddle around my feet.
My strides were quick, and I could feel the heat of arousal between my legs as I went. I stopped in front of his door to take a calming breath. I wanted to look sexy, not desperate. None of the office doors had locks, and I knew I could just barge in and surprise him, but I didn’t want to do that. We had a special knock that I used whenever we’d had an after-work rendezvous — knock, knock, pause, knock-knock.
My hand trembled as I raised it to the door and rapped lightly. A muffled sound came from within his office and I assumed he’d said something like ‘enter’. I’d probably surprised him; he wasn’t expecting me today. Emboldened, I opened his door, strutted inside with an extra swizzle in my hips, and then struck a sexy pose.
When I saw the look of horror on his face, I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t quite know what it was. He was standing behind his sleek, modern office desk facing me, his arms spread wide and braced on the desk with his shirtsleeves rolled up and his tie askew. Two computer monitors on his desk blocked most of his body from my view, but I could clearly see the panic that sparked in his eyes.
I stood rooted to the spot for a moment. My brain was still trying to process something important here. What?
I heard something. Wet and sloppy. Slapping? No, sucking sounds.
My insides grew ice cold. No! This couldn’t be happening.
The overhead lights were off, but there was still enough ambient light streaming through the windows that I could see some slight movement beneath his desk. I angled my head and bent down slightly, just enough to see the worn soles of a pair of red high-heeled shoes. Shoes that I knew belonged to Missy Peterson, two cubicles down from me — shoes that were attached to a naked body on hands and knees, wiggling ass jutting out toward me as she sucked off my boss. It was the exact position I had assumed several times in this very same office for the very same boss, who only a few weeks ago had told me that he loved me at the Days Inn.
The champagne bottle slipped from my hand. It exploded like an improvised bomb all over the floor. Small shards of glass flew everywhere like shrapnel and a puddle of champagne began expanding across the floor. The noise of the crash must have startled Missy. I heard her head crack loudly against the top of the desk, followed by a grunt of pain from Jack. Hopefully, she bit his dick off.
Adrenaline surged through me.Fight or flight.I stumbled a few steps backward toward the door, utterly shell-shocked.Fight or flight.I didn’t even glance at Jack again. I had only one thing on my mind.
