Page 62 of Holding The Reins

I am absolutely fucked.

I get to the office at nine, drop Sonny’s coffee and powdered donut on her desk, and grab the documents she’s left for me to look over.

“You’re whistling,” she says, eyeing me suspiciously.

I look up. I am?

“Main street boxing has you feeling happy this morning, boss?” She leans back and folds her arms over her chest.

“Jesus Christ, the gossip spreads so fast,” I say as I turn to exit her office. “Is CeCe here yet? I didn’t see her car.”

“I’m right here,” she says breezing into Sonny’s office.

“Got something for me, boss?” she asks.

Fuck. Why does she have to look like sex itself? Her normally wavy hair is hanging thick and straight down her back, and she’s wearing a deep green dress the exact color of her eyes. The top has a high neck and is a loose fit, but it’s cinching at her tiny waist, just like the sleeves, loose and billowy then cuffing tightly around her wrists. The bottom is the show stopper. It hugs her entire lower half like a second skin to her knees showing every bit of her perfect curves.

I pick my jaw up off the floor and hand her a box filled with every pastry Spicer’s has. Visions of her plump ass in my hands last night fill my mind. I avert my eyes from her to avoid a mid-morning woody.

“Thanks.” CeCe smirks and then heads out of the office, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

I turn to follow her, shooting Sonny a wave over my shoulder to notice her shaking her head at me like a disapproving mother.

“Couldn’t do it, could ya, boss?”

“Boundaries, Sonny. Enjoy your donut,” I chirp back as I steal out of her office.

“Mmhmm.” I hear from behind me.

After a long list of phone calls I had to return, I finally get a chance to eat. I’m pretty sure I look like a fourteen-year-old school girl with a crush as I pull open my box of goodies from Spicer’s. He bought everything. Every single pastry they offer.

On the inside of the box, he’s done an absolutely terrible sketch of a little cat and wrote “peace offering” beside it. This man.

I start laughing as I pull out a maple pecan Danish and start happily munching. My phone buzzes on my desk.

Ginger

Avery says a certain part-time cowboy/hot boss was just in the equipment room this morning humming Shania Twain. I wonder why that could be?

I blush and lean back in my chair.

Who wouldn’t sing Shania?

Liv

There are only two reasons men hum. When they have just gotten laid or when they think they’re going to get laid.

Ginger

So babe, on a scale of banana to eggplant what are we talking here?

Don’t you have young minds to mold this morning?

Ginger ignores my question.

Ginger

Change of plans tonight, forget hot yoga, I’m coming to your little party. Tell Mabel I’d like a mani and pedi please. Cherry red.

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