Page 14 of His Curvy Temptation

I breathe a sigh of relief. I know Andy is younger than me. But I’m not sure I could date a twenty-two year old. It would feel too much like dating a teenager, which would makemefeel old as fuck, and also like a creep.

“So how old are you?” I ask.

“Twenty-eight,” she says. “I went to massage therapy school after I finished high school instead of college. I needed to be able to make money and support myself, and I didn’t have four years to spend in college. Or the tuition money for that matter.”

“So you’ve been supporting yourself since you turned eighteen?” I ask. “That’s a little unusual.”

“I’ve had a little support from family,” she says lightly, looking away. “But you know…my mom doesn’t have a lot of money either. So I wanted to be able to support myself as soon as possible. Didn’t want to feel like a burden.”

“I respect the hell out of that,” I say with a nod.

“You do?”

“You carved your own path and you stand on your own two feet,” I reply. “Of course I respect that. Why wouldn’t I?”

She bites her lip.

“I guess I’m just insecure about my lack of college education,” she replies. “I mean, all of my friends are done with school now. They have jobs and…”

“You have a job,” I point out.

“Yeah but you know,” she shrugs. “They havegoodjobs. Full time jobs, too. I’m still living like a college student for now. But hopefully not soon.”

I look at Andy, weighing a decision for a moment. And then I walk to my desk and press the intercom button on the phone.

“Yes, Mr. Stone?”

“Bring me a whisky neat as well as a …” I say. I glance at Andy. “What will it be?”

She hesitates, shifting the strap of her backpack on her shoulder and looking at me nervously.

“Have a drink with me,” I say, more clearly, in the commanding voice I normally reserve for work colleagues alone. Or for women I want to fuck and then forget.

Andy is neither of those things to me. But I can tell she’s going to need a firmer push from me in order to spend some time this evening with me.

And Iwanther to stay and spend some time with me. I don’t know why. Hell, I have about a million things to do piled up on my desk tonight and at this rate I’ll be leaving the office at three in the morning, if I leave the office at all tonight.

The last thing I need to be doing is having a drink with a woman tonight. But I don’t want her to leave. I’m not ready to say goodbye to her, not this soon.

“Just a water, I guess,” she says.

I nod, giving the orders to my assistant and gesturing to the leather couch on the wall for her to take a seat. She does so and I take a seat opposite her. Wordlessly, my assistant brings our drinks in and leaves them on the coffee table in front of us, leaving the room as quietly as she entered.

“It must be nice,” Andy says. “Having an assistant. That’s so cool.”

“It’s very helpful,” I reply. “Let’s me spend my time on more important things to me. And provides someone else with a job at the same time.”

“Do they stay at the office late with you?” Andy wonders.

“No,” I reply. “They leave at six most days, if not earlier.”

“After that, I guess you have to get your own drinks,” Andy replies.

“I do,” I say. “It’s awful.”

She laughs.

“What’s next?” She asks. “Having to cook your own food? Drive your own car?”

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