Page 44 of Pretty Little Thing

Ten

Nora

Look yourself in the eye in the mirror tomorrow morning and you’ll know why.

The girl stares back at me and for a second… I don’t recognize her.

She’s thirty with blonde hair. That adds up, I suppose. Brown eyes, a little button nose, and a chicken pock scar on her chin. It’s me. Definitely me,but…

I lean over the sink and wipe a bit more condensation off the bathroom mirror. My towel loosens around my chest, so I give it a quick adjustment to keep it from slipping off. My hair is damp but I haven’t managed to gather enough morning energy to dry it just yet. Maybe after a few sips of coffee.

I stick out my tongue and crinkle my nose and furrow my brow but I still can’t put my finger on it.

I look myself in the eye, just like Clive told me to do.

Something’s changed.

I slept like a damn baby. I usually wrestle with my pillow for several hours before drifting off but last night… I closed my eyes the second I hit the sheets and I don’t remember opening them again until I woke up mere seconds ahead of my alarm. I felt refreshed and so deeply satisfied.

He’s the first thing I thought of. His voice in my head was the first thing I heard. Memories of his lips and his tongue and — oh, boy — his dick. Definitely his dick.

I reach for my toothbrush and pause as I spot the light, red markings on my wrist. It felt so good and safe and he was so dominating — but not too much. I never once felt out of my element or in any danger.

I want to try it again.

“Goddamn,” I say with a sigh, still staring at myself.

Who the hell is this girl?

Well, whoever she is…

I like her.

* * *

When people askme what I do for a living, I’m never quite sure what to say.

The job title is Chief Executive Officer but my day-to-day is different than other CEOs I’ve met. A lot of them act as overseers. They did the work, built their empire, then hired people to run it for them while they make the occasional office appearance between trips to the golf course. Nothing wrong with that, per se, but I’ve spent most of my adult life with my little, black book and I’m not nearly ready enough to pass the golden pen off to other hands just yet.

I’m more of a racket-ball kind of girl, anyway…

I’m not the traditional boss. I wouldn’t call myself a matchmaker, either, as most of that has been fine-tuned by algorithms at this point. You say “app developer” and ninety-percent zone out immediately, so…

I guess I’m just Nora Payne, the girl with the Little Black Book.

Today, I have to finalize the holiday logos with my marketing department, setup a call with the local food drive director, and get through this meeting with my creative team but—

“Nora, are you all right?”

Fuck it. I can’t do shit today.

I’m stuck in a Clive-filled trance. Part of me is still tied up in my backseat with my legs spread eagle and his face buried in my—

“Ms. Payne?”

“Yes, I’m here.” I clear my throat and force my head up to look at Percy and Rachel sitting in front of my desk.

Rachel tilts her head. “Rough night last night?”

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