Page 144 of Rush of Jealousy

“I think I’ll just spend the rest of the day here. Napping. Jilling off when I get the slightest urge. You go forth and earn the money.” I shoo him away.

“Oh no, I have more fantasies I want to explore with you.”

My eyes are droopy and heavy. “I doubt I’ll be able to withstand any more pleasure. I’ve reached my quota for the day.”

He laughs at me and bends down to cage me in. His lips kiss along my jaw and up to my mouth.

“We need to go in the next fifteen minutes if we are going to make the all-hands meeting at ten. It’s over in the other building.”

“We?”

“You’re not leaving my side today, baby. I can’t have my security team breaking out in hives over what you will get yourself into if I leave you unaccounted for.”

I narrow my eyes at him and sit up. I want to argue, but what’s the point of arguing with fact? I do have trouble controlling my snoopy side.

“Let me straighten myself out then.” I get up and walk toward the bathroom.

“You’re going to need these,” Graham says, dangling the pair of white panties from his index finger. “White to preserve your innocence.”

“Ha. Pretty sure you single-handedly destroyed every ounce of my innocence.” I snatch the garment out of his hands and saunter into the bathroom. I use the floor-length mirror to readjust my dress. I slip on the clean panties and slide my garter belt into a comfortable position. I brush through my hair with my fingers, but it looks a little ruffled, and there isn’t much I can do to tame it, other than sprinkle a little water from the sink into it. I look like I just had amazing sex. Or maybe I am just projecting.

I finish up and exit to find Graham sitting on the edge of his desk.

“Ready to go watch me work?”

I find my bag on the table and pull out my notebook and fancy pen. “Yup. I even came prepared to take notes.”

He looks at me with amusement dancing in his eyes. I can tell he is trying to figure out if I am being serious or not. He pulls me to his side and wraps an arm around my shoulders. We walk out his door, through the hallway, and take a few floors down on the elevator. We cross over the walkway and enter into a conference room with rows of long tables and rolling chairs. There are eight rows with about twenty chairs per row. Unlike the conference room where I attacked him, this is arranged to hold six times the amount of people.

“Sit wherever you would like. I am going to be speaking to my staff about a few pressing agenda items. Then directors from various teams will be doing short presentations on the happenings from the previous week. This is our weekly run-down. On Mondays we do a similar all-hands meeting, but with the layout for the week.”

I nod and find a seat in the fifth row toward the left side of the room. Several staff employees are already filtering into the room. Many are in clusters from their departments, chatting while they find a seat.

Graham steps out of the room and comes back with two bottled waters. He walks one over to me and winks. I smile back, and my cheeks heat from being shy that some of his staff saw our interchange. I am trying not to stand out and yet here he is drawing attention to me. He walks down to the center podium. There are five there in total. Microphones are secured on poles. Three projectors are set up from the ceiling and three screens are lowered down behind the podiums with the simple touch of a button on a remote control.

I open my water and take a sip. A woman sits down with her colleague to the left of me. They both have a muffin and orange juice that they begin to eat. To my right a man sits down and leans back in his chair to talk to the group that is seated behind us. I recognize no one and am relieved in a way. I try not to think about if anyone recognizes me—especially from when I crashed into the conference room and climbed on the table to attack Graham. Not one of my finest moments, albeit memorable.

Every two rows of tables is on a different level, cascading down to where the podiums and screens are set up. Graham clears his throat and wishes everyone a good morning. The room quiets, and he uses a tiny remote to control the presentation being broadcast behind him on the screen.

“This week marks the 2.5 cycle of production for our Discovery Line of jewelry. Both the production and distribution teams are working at managing the importation for the supply chains for the metals and gems. The second phase will be starting in the next two weeks, where marketing and sales teams will be pitching their ideas to the board of associates. A survey was sent out to each staff member, through the directors, to establish realistic timelines and provide the opportunity to anonymously voice concerns over the workload and functionality of the teams before the next trial release is set to launch. Please keep in mind that casting blame on any staff member is unacceptable—regardless of being anonymous or not. We are one unit here at HH with a lot of moving parts. Keep comments professional, not personal.”

I watch in awe as Graham commands the room, flips through slides with a graceful flow, and stands confidently amongst his staff. I don’t write much in my notebook except for a few doodles and the words—hot,confident, andmine.

I take a sip of my water, and as I try to reseal my bottle, the cap slips out of my fingers and drops onto the floor under the chair beside me.

“Psst,” I whisper over to the guy adjacent to me.

His smile is big as he looks at me. “Have we met?” he whispers softly. “You look new. I would remember those pretty eyes if our paths had crossed.”

His words make me smile.

I can hear Graham’s authoritative voice introducing some of the directors who are being called up to the podiums to do their portion of the presentation.

“I’m just visiting. But can you please get my cap?” I ask, pointing to it.

“I’m Tim,” he says, passing me the cap.

I take it from his hands and seal up my bottle. I turn my attention back to the front of the room and shiver as Graham’s eyes stare daggers at Tim. Shit. If looks could kill… I cringe and hope he didn’t think Tim was doing anything wrong other than introducing himself. Graham messes with some notes at his desk and then looks up at me. His eyes are smoldering and possessive. I cross and recross my legs.

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