Page 57 of Ask Me Something

Chapter Twelve

The next day in the office was productive. I went through emails and got more information on Tryon Pharmaceuticals, the prospective client on which we’d start to focus in earnest next week. I planned on spending my weekend studying the board members and performing my research on everything from the company’s website to its social media presence. Having the proper background information about a client could mean the difference between landing or failing to land the account.

It was unbelievable that I’d shut it off the way I had during the days I’d spent in Tortola. Brian had told me to wait, not that there was much I could have done while on vacation, but normally I would’ve been stressing about it.

I’d obviously been distracted by Mr. Keep-your-hands-above-your-head. Damn, I’d never before had sex on the brain like this. I sat back in my office chair and took a deep breath, resolving to put it out of my head. Maybe I needed this two week break to ensure I could keep it in perspective and still concentrate on my job. This was friends with benefits, not a relationship that should threaten to consume my every thought.

Since my assistant, Nancy, was out on vacation like most of the others until Monday, I answered my own phone today, even during work hours. When I saw Brian’s number come up, I smiled. So much for putting the distraction aside.

“Sasha Brooks’ office.”

“Either Nancy is still on vacation, or you were so anxious to speak with me you picked up your own phone during the day,” he teased.

“Nancy is still on vacation.”

“If ever my ego needs a check, all I need to do is pick up the phone and call you.”

“You asked.” I grinned.

We chatted some about work, and then I recognized the sound of the announcements in the background. “Are you at the airport?”

“Sure am. My flight is boarding soon.”

Why did I hope he’d tell me he was coming to New York? “Where are you off to?”

“I’m flying to Hong Kong.”

“Oh, wow. For how long?”

“What if I told you I’ll be traveling for the next two weeks and that it would be three before I saw you again?”

I hoped he was messing with me. “I’d say you’re in violation of the rules and then ask if there’s a punishment for that sort of thing.”

I was rewarded with his intake of breath. “You’re convinced to get me hard every time I get on a damn plane, aren’t you?”

I laughed and then got a little nervous. “Uh, I wasn’t serious. About the punishment thing. You said you weren’t into that, right?”

Now it was his turn to laugh. “You dish it out and then start to get worried about it being taken literally?”

I was glad he couldn’t see my face. So I was a lot of false bravado followed up by a quick over analysis of everything. “You know I hate when you avoid the question. It makes me overthink it even more.”

“I know. And the answer is that my idea of punishment involves tortured pleasure, not pain. I already told you I’m not into that sort of thing.”

I was relieved to have the confirmation again. “When are you truly coming back?”

“I’ll be back next Friday evening. I could either fly into Charlotte and meet you there or come back through New York and spend the weekend.”

It wouldn’t be fair to ask him to come to New York straight off a week-long trip overseas. “I’ll meet you down there. But you’ll be jet lagged. Are you certain you’ll want to get together that weekend?”

“Two weeks is the max. With the time difference, I may not get a chance to speak with you a lot over the next few days, but I’ll be thinking of you.”

Smiling, I returned the sentiment. “Same here. Let me know your flight information, and I’ll try to make mine come in at the same time.”

“Okay, and Sasha?”

“Mm.”

“Don’t bother to pack a lot of clothes for the weekend.”

---