Page 22 of Dirty Little Secrets
I begin. “Apologies again for being late…” I pause. There is no point groveling with these men. They don’t give a shit except their investment.
I dive into the bullet points, explaining the security system’s benefits and risks. I detail how it protects their data andhelps recover missing shipments. When I’m finished, I expect criticism but nothing comes.
Silence stretches thick but Drazen stays silent and I'm almost positive I'm fired.
On the ride back, I sit in silence. I accept the ride back to the office—rain and unemployment don’t mix. In the garage, the driver exits, leaving me with Drazen.
“You did good,” he says.
It stuns me. I grip the folder like it’s the ticket to my future. “Thank you. But you don’t need to be nice before you fire me.”
“And why would I fire you?”
I laugh. “We both know I’m not what you’re looking for in a secretary.”
“And what is that, Ms. Summers?”
I glance down at my blouse realizing in my haste and poor judgement, it’s practically see-through. “Not this.”
“Why not?”
I hate that he makes me say it. “I was late…twice. I didn’t complete my assignment in time. I probably embarrassed you at lunch.”
“I see.”
I hand him the file. “I’m sorry.”
I get out, practically sprinting to the elevator. Once inside, I stab the button to his floor. The doors begin to close but a hand stops them. Drazen steps in, smelling like rain and cologne.
I back into the wall. “What are you doing?” I ask, as he lifts his phone to his ear.
“Shut the camera off,” he says to whoever he called.
Fuck.
He knows. But how?
He steps close. “You didn’t let me finish, Ms. Summers.”
I swallow hard.
“How did you make a fool of yourself? Your presentation was perfect.”
I glance at my blouse not knowing how to respond as the relief that he still doesn’t know so I go with, “I’m sure they got a kick out of it.”
He shows me his screen with a notification for a wire transfer for fifteen million.
My breath hitches.
“It wasn’t the red bra,” he says as the doors open to his floor. But his eyes linger just a beat too long on my chest. “That’s not why they closed the deal.” Then he walks away, leaving me speechless.
My phone buzzes in my purse. I pull it out and it’s from the Obsidian app. I open the notification and it reads: Your medical is cleared.
On Sunday, they had an opening at a clinic that is open seven days a week where you can get screened. I wasn’t surprised that they asked for proof. It’s required for all members before their first visit to the club. They want everyone checked for STI’s and make sure women are on a form of birth control. I smile when I open the tab where green check appears clearing me for my first visit.
It couldn’t have come at a better time than today. Maybe a night exploring a sex club will give me the outlet I need to take the edge off every time I’m alone with my boss. I just need a match to start it off.
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