Page 40 of Forbidden You

“So what are you suggesting?”

“Read it. Tell me what you think, and if you think it’s good enough, convince Bodi to read it without telling him it’s Charlotte’s,” she explains, her voice laced with victory.

“Fine. Send it over.” I give in. “But promise you won’t tell Charlotte I’m reading it.”

“I promise!”

“Good. I gotta go now. Talk later.” Without waiting for another reply, I hang up and saunter out of the elevator, waving at the woman sitting behind the desk across from mine.

“Good morning, Agnes!”

She smiles at me from under her glasses before her eyes rake up and down my body. We’ve clicked over the last few days. She might be forty years my senior, but the woman is fun to be around.

“Good morning, honey. You look nice today.” I glance down at my denim skirt, combined with a white t-shirt tucked into my waist, all finished off by my denim jacket.

“Thank you. You look dashing yourself.”

When I’m sixty, I want to look like Agnes. She might be old enough to be my mother, but I swear I could have fun in her wardrobe. The other day, she wore a stylish leather jacket like she was born in it, and she rocks sneakers every day.

Who does that when you’re above fifty? Wearing them, sure, but rocking them is a whole different story.

“Where did you leave the boss?” Her gaze darts back to the elevator, expecting Bodi to follow behind me like he normally does.

“He had somewhere to be. I walked here.”

“Walked? Isn’t that a bit far?”

I raise a foot up in the air. “I got my Nikes on. I can walk miles with these babies,” I tell her, bringing my foot back down. “It was a nice way to start my day, actually. I think I might do it more often.”

Agnes scoffs, and I give her a questioning look.

“I doubt Mr. McKay will agree to that.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to have his car all to himself again. I’m chatty in the morning.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Heads up, he’s not.”

Agnes laughs before I amble toward my desk mirrored to hers at the other side of the area.

“Besides, he can’t tell me what to do,” I explain. I sit down on my chair and start my computer. “Just like no one can tell him what to do. He’s pretty stubborn.”

“Yet you seem to be telling him what to do all the time.”

I peek my head above the screen. “Me?”

She nods with a knowing look on her face.

“Ha! That may look like that, but trust me, he doesn’t listen to a word I’m saying.”

If he did, I’d fall asleep with orgasm fogs each night.

“I think you’re underestimating your influence on Mr. McKay.”

I purse my lips, glancing at his office door, then throw my head beside my desktop to look at Agnes. “Maybe, but I don’t have enough persuasion for him to tell me where he’s off to every Wednesday morning.” I give her a questioning look that she matches with one of her own.

“What are you talking about?”

“He told me that I have to get to work without him every Wednesday morning. He has some kind of thing.”

“Ah,” she says, tilting her head a little, “and now you want to know what it is?”

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