Page 16 of His Temptation
My phone buzzes on my desk.
Unknown: Are you still at the office?
I roll my eyes. Great, the man has my phone number now. This is the start of a never-ending stream of demands at all hours.
Me: Yes, Mr. Monroe. I’m still at the office.
And I’m about to trash your office and leave my letter of resignation on your desk.
Unknown: Good. I’m at The Carnegie Club in Midtown. I forgot my laptop. Can you bring it to me in the next hour on your way home?
So, he’s just assuming that I’ll be ready to leave in the next thirty minutes in order to get him his damn laptop? What a freaking self-entitled prick! I’m guessing the thought never even crossed his mind that he could come back to the office himself.
I think I need a mantra to repeat under these circumstances, so I don’t quit. Like how Emily Blunt’s character inThe Devil Wears Pradarecites how much she loves her job over and over.
Mine needs to be along the lines of not murdering my boss because I’ll end up in prison.
For now, I take a deep breath and remember that Benny has been loving his speech therapy appointments. Ones that I cannot afford without this job.
Me: Sure thing, boss.
There’s no way I will be done with this project in the next half hour. I should just get his laptop to him now, then come back.
Poor Benny will be going to bed without me in our apartment. With my massive first two paychecks, I’ve already started looking at nicer neighborhoods. If I’m going to be working these kinds of hours, I need to get us in a safer building. One with some kind of security at the front would be preferable.
I’m standing just outside of the club with his laptop as I type out a text to him. Before I know it, the man at the front door is motioning for me to come in and leading me through the crowd.
I’ve never been in a place like this. It’s like I’ve stumbled back into the 1950s. The walls are made out of rich wood paneling. There are leather chairs and ornate bookshelves, creating a warm, sophisticated environment. People are everywhere, smoking cigars and drinking fancy-looking cocktails.
I’m led to a corner of the room with leather couches and a wooden coffee table. Several insanely good-looking men are all dressed in business suits, drinking scotch. I spot Mr. Monroe at the end of the couch directly to my left. He has some beautifulbrunette sitting next to him, batting her eyelashes and sticking out her chest.
Ugh, get over yourself, lady. Is that all you think you have to get his attention—a massive chest and fluttering eyes?
The guy sitting on the other end of the same couch leans back and says something to him that makes his head fall back with laughter. I nearly lose my breath at how gorgeous he looks, laughing so casually.
Gone are his jacket and tie. The man is in a crisp white shirt-the sleeves rolled up. They show a beautiful set of forearms—that must be what the writers of my books mean when they say arm porn. His expensive watch just adds to how wealthy and suave he looks right now.
He finally looks over at me, and his eyes do a double take before they turn dark and intimidating. He looks almost angry at my presence, which is odd because he clearly had someone walk me back here.
His eyes settle on my chest, which is when I realize my mistake.
Knowing I was the last one in the office, I ripped off my blouse and never put it back on. I’m standing in front of everyone in my tight skirt and lacy black bodysuit. My breasts are popping out of the top.
“Kylie,” he says in a harsh tone, “what are you wearing?”
“Um, I was getting hot at the office, so I took my blouse off. I completely forgot about it.”
The rest of the men he is with are now looking over at me curiously. My body trembles under the attention of such attractive men.
“Well, I would advise you to check that you’re properly dressed next time. It’s not very appropriate for my assistant to be walking around, dressed like that.”
“I see. But it’s appropriate to ask your assistant to work late by herself while you go out for drinks, then proceed to make her walk the streets of New York City alone to get you your laptop, which you forgot?”
His friends fail at holding in their laughter, which makes him appear even more pissed off. Fuck, I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut around this guy. I’ve never had an issue speaking so openly to my bosses before. He just brings it out in me.
“I think she has you there, Lin.” The man sitting on the couch with him laughs. “I can’t believe you asked her to drop your laptop off at a bar when she was already working late for you. Last time I checked, you had two functioning legs that could walk your privileged ass to your office.”
I try to bite back my smile, but it’s useless. I like his friends. It’s refreshing to see him around people who aren’t afraid to put him in his place.
