Page 17 of Forbidden Desire

It was the best sex I ever had. Hands down. She surprised me by the way she took control. It was so different from the woman who didn’t know how beautiful she was. Maybe it was the drinks or maybe it was her desires getting the best of her. Whatever itwas, I was all for it. I’m used to being the one taking the lead, but she commanded me in the way she moved her body and knew when to give, and when to take. She kept me on my toes, and I took pleasure in making her own toes curl under in pleasure. I can still hear her raspy moans echo through my head.

Yes, the sex is something I’ve thought about often, but the intellectual foreplay that had led up to it had intrigued me too. Hearing her talk about her passions and her career turned me on almost more than that champagne dress she wore so effortlessly. Of course, her mouth and what she did with it took the cake, but there was something besides the sex that stuck with me. She was real. Hard-working. Blissfully unaware of who I was.

It’s hard not to wonder what would have happened the next morning if I had stuck around. Probably more sex. A lot more. I don’t think we would have left my bed. I almost didn’t leave that morning when I woke up next to her, her naked body curled up next to me under the sheets and her dark hair pouring over the pillow. She was a goddamn vision as she breathed steadily, the outline of her breasts rising and falling against the white thin fabric. I had been so close to waking her up and showing her what I thought of her, but then my phone rung and I had no choice but to leave her there.

“Mr. Vallejo,” a voice cuts through my thoughts.

I look up and see my assistant standing in the doorway, looking wary as if she’s interrupted me.

“Yes, Jessica?”

“I received the files for the employees atThe NY Daily News.HR just had them couriered over.”

“Wow. That was quick,” I say in surprise. Then I remind myself that they probably want to keep their job, hence the promptness. I’ll make a note of that.

“Should I bring the boxes in?”

“Yes, please.”

She nods and exits the room. As I wait, I jot down another to-do to my list. Find out if a woman named Erica works atThe NY Daily News.I’m surprised I haven’t thought about it until now. It would have been so easy to find her, to try and start something up again. I wonder if she’s even still there.

Maybe she’s the reason why I feel that nagging bit of guilt in me now that I’ve taken over something she loved so much. She could have very well been in the office today, had I thought to look. I don’t see why she wouldn’t be. When we talked, there had been no inkling of her wanting to leave. But a lot can change in a year.

I plan on spending the rest of the afternoon going over the list of employees and their files, determining which ones to keep. While I plot out how to restructure the company, I will also see if Erica still works there. Taking over the paper just became a little sweeter at the thought.

Chapter 11

Erica

I watch as Sarah packs up her desk into a cardboard box, surprised that her years of work here somehow fits inside its four flimsy walls. She picks up the last item from her desk, a picture frame housing a photo of her and her fiancé, and places it carefully on top of the box’s contents. She catches my stare and gives me a meek smile.

“The promotion was too good to be true, I guess.” She shrugs. “Should have been yours anyway.”

I feel my cheeks tinge pink at the thought of how jealous I had been just over a week ago as she proudly carried flowers and a congratulatory balloon after being moved up in the company. Now I can’t help but feel awful as she gives me a hug beforepicking up the box and carrying it to the elevator, her final walk in this office.

This past week, I had seen so many of my coworkers and friends make the same walk, carrying their boxes and saying their final goodbyes. The utter disbelief on their faces has been heartbreaking and terrifying as I wait to find out my fate. I know my time will be coming to an end, and it will be at the hands of The Shark. Marco Vallejo. The father of my daughter.

I wonder why it’s taken so long to be called into his office for him to fire me. I’ve been on pins and needles waiting to hear his assistant call my name. I actually haven’t even seen him at all since he moved into the office down the hall. I was strategic in moving to one of my coworkers’ old cubicles, out of sight of Marco’s office. I’ve been arriving early and leaving late just to avoid bumping into him, but it’s inevitable. He’s my boss now.

It irritates me that he hasn’t even gone so far as to introduce himself to any of us, as if we don’t matter at all to him. He probably doesn’t see the point in introductions, since we will all be gone soon. I swallow hard at the thought. The thought of being jobless and trying to support myself and Josie has been keeping me up most nights. I’ve continued searching the web for jobs, but I haven’t received any callbacks for interviews. I know soon I will have to go to my brother, Troy, out of sheer desperation and love for my daughter.

I run my hand over the mouse of my computer to wake the screen up, not realizing I have been inactive for so long. I’ve been keeping up with my column as normal, even though I wonder if there is a point. There are just a few more paragraphs beforeI need to go over it for edits. I click through the tabs on my computer for supporting research on the latest election and am about to type out my thoughts when Marco’s assistant pops her head around the corner of my cubicle. I jump slightly.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says warily. “But Mr. Vallejos would like to see you in his office.”

I give her a nod, not able to utter any sort of response for fear of crying. She gives me a weak smile and disappears behind the walls of my cubicle. I take a deep breath and stand up, smoothing the black sheath dress I chose for today. It seems fitting, as this will most likely be the day I lose my job. It’s almost like a funeral.

I walk down the hallway, aware of the watchful eyes of my remaining coworkers. They either haven’t been called in yet, or were given the opportunity to stay. I know I won’t have that same opportunity. Marco is going to take one look at me and give me the boot. Our night together just makes things complicated. If I had known he would ever become my boss, I would have done things so differently.

I blush at the thought of him on his knees before me and the way I shook when he touched me in the most intimate places. I still dream of him sometimes, our night together on some sort of subconscious loop. I sometimes let myself forget that he’s the father of Josie, but right now it’s smacking me right in the face as I approach the door of his office.

Stay calm,I think to myself. Maybe he doesn’t even remember me. Guys like him probably have one-night stands all the time. I’m no one special. I’m probably lost on him. It has been a year since we spent the night together. Who knows what he has been up to or who he has been with in that time. However, I know I’m just lying to myself, trying to calm my nerves that are trying to escape through every pore of my body.

I knock on the door and hear him say, “Come in.”

I open the door and step inside, my legs shaky. I see him sitting behind his desk, George’s old desk, looking even more handsome than he did the night I met him. I try not to let that show on my face.

“Please, close the door,” he says with a soft smile.

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