Page 55 of Obeying the Owner

I hold my middle finger to my phone, as if he can see it, before I drop the cell on the nightstand. My heavy eyelids fall closed, and the last thing I see in my mind before sleep takes me is Trey’s smiling face.

* * *

When I enter Trey’s office, he says, “Close the door.”

Pushing it shut, I walk toward his desk while he smirks at me. “What?” I ask, but I’m pretty sure I know what he’s going to say.

“Someone had a little too much to drink last night.”

Yep. I knew it.

“Yeah, I did.” I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Can we not discuss that?”

He chuckles. “I think I want to talk about it, though. You drunk texted me.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. It was completely inappropriate.”

“I rather enjoyed it, myself. Drunk Maeve is funny.” He grins and I scowl.

“Don’t get too attached, because she won’t be making another appearance.”

“That’s too bad.”

I clasp my hands together in front of me. “It’s for the best. People make bad choices when they drink. I certainly did.”

“That’s why I prefer weed. It doesn’t have that effect. You just sit there and chill out.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Can we get down to business now?” It’s been approximately twelve hours since my friends helped me devise the five ways to make this situation easier, and I’m already forgetting about numbers two and four.

I haven’t taken my eyes off him since I walked through the door, and we’ve yet to talk about work stuff. I suck at this.

“Sure. I called you in because I’m trying to print out quarterly reports for the players’ expenses and operational expenses, and I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong.”

“I can help you with that. Let me sit down in your chair, and I’ll show you what to do.”

Standing, he moves aside so I can slide in behind his desk. “So you need to select ‘Reports’ from the menu.” He leans in, watching.

There goes rule number one.

“Then you’ll search for the one you want to print.” I move the cursor. “See, it’s right here.”

He leans even closer. “You smell wonderful.”

I pretend as though I didn’t hear him. “Then you click on where it says Run Report. To print it out, you click on the printer icon,” I say, demonstrating. The machine comes to life. He rests his hands on my shoulders, massaging my tight muscles as the pages stack up in the tray.

“That seems easy enough, but while I have you here, can you print out one for advertising expenses too, please?”

“Sure.” I don’t want to agree. I want to get away from him as quickly as possible. He smells amazing, and his magical hands are working the knots from my trapezius muscle. It feels divine.

I walk him through the steps once more, finding the report and showing him how to print it out. Before I escape from his chair, he winds a strand of my hair around his index finger, then lets it slide free. “Your hair is so soft.”

Pushing my feet against the floor, I shove the chair back, bumping into him, and jump from the seat. “If that’s all you need, I’ll head back to my desk. I’ve got work to do.”

“Thank you for your help, Maeve.”

“You’re welcome. Just doing my job.” My hand fumbles with the knob as I open the door. I step into the hallway and see Sheryl down at the other end. She points to the break room, and I hurry toward her. The two of us scamper inside, and, thankfully, we’re the only ones here.

“How’s it going?” she asks.

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