Page 23 of Fair Trade
Which is why I’m fiercely protective of her.
Because my mother would have been.
I am many things, but being immature is most definitely not one of them.
Emotionally stunted? Now that I could make a case for if I call and schedule an appointment with my therapist again.
It’s been a few years, but I’m sure she’s expecting my call any day now.
I walk down the hall that leads to my new office.
I want to get settled and have a cup of coffee before my meeting with Luisa in order to get my head right.
But those plans are out the window the second I turn the corner and spot Luisa standing by my assistant’s desk, laughing. She’s dressed in a bright pink blazer, matching dress pants, a fitted black top, and those “fuck me” heels she wore the night she was mine.
Dammit. There it is again. My heart hammering in my chest the second I lay eyes on her.
I thought the other day was a fluke. The shock of seeing the mysterious woman I had a one-night stand with, who ran out on me when I was just getting started with her.
Ridiculous thought, really, since I don’t make a habit of bedding a woman twice. I’ve made that mistake before and have found leaked articles about personal information carelessly shared by yours truly during post-sex pillow talk.
I tell myself that I’m hung up on the chase. That it’s been a while since I’ve spent the night in a woman’s company, and she came along at the right time.
But I’m not stupid.
I can smell an excuse from a mile away, and I currently reek of them.
It’s just an attraction. A crush at best. Most likely my body’s natural reaction to being near the woman who gave me the best sex of my life.
So yeah, I’ll cut my racing heart some slack and maybe skip my coffee this morning. I’m sure it’ll do the trick.
“Good morning. I see you’ve made introductions already.”
My assistant, Marla, squeals. I’ve never heard a sixty-year-old woman squeal, but I guess meeting Luisa will do that to the best of us. “She’s such a doll, Nick. And funny! Did you know she was funny? She has me tearing up, and it isn’t even eight thirty.”
Luisa is leaning on the desk, looking much too relaxed for my liking. As if she’s the one in control.
Fuck. Is she?
She makes a show of looking down at her watch and sighing dramatically. “Cutting it close there, boss.”
I’m ten minutes early to our meeting, but clearly, she was even earlier, making me feel like I’m running late.
I move past her and open my office door. “That just means we have more time for our meeting. Lucky us.” I gesture for her to step inside my office. “Hold my calls, Marla.”
She chuckles. “No one even has this number yet, Nick.”
God. Am I being awkward? I feel like I’m trying to play it cool but can’t be sure if it’s actually working.
Luisa snickers as she walks past me.
Yep. The cool shtick is not fooling anyone. I shake my head and make my way toward my desk. It’s actually my first time sitting here. When I visited earlier in the week, it still felt like it was my grandfather’s office. I asked Marla to hire a designer to redecorate and get rid of all the furniture. But his energy still lingers. As if he enjoys watching me play along with his ridiculous requests.
A part of me thought that there’d be a long, handwritten explanation for his absence in my life. Or, at the very least, his reasonings for gifting me this team.
But there was none of that. Just more terms and conditions.
It’s no bother to me. For all I care, he and my father were the same breed of men, and nothing I aspire to be.
