Page 20 of If You Could Only Imagine
Shane rolled her eyes and then lasered her hazel eyes at me. “Respect, Aiden” she repeated. “Just remember to respect her.”
I thanked them…for nothing…and then headed towards my office, letting them get back to…being a happily married couple.
As I replayed Shane’s words in my head, I worried that I might not be able to juggle those three requirements. It wasn’t that I didn’t respect Denise, because I did. And I had the run of this place, discretion shouldn’t be a problem, especially if she did start working with Shane.
It was the lust part that I was going to struggle with.
Now that I’ve had her, I found myself wanting to bury my dick in her all day long. I hadn’t wanted either of us to have to come to work this morning, and if I ran into her, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to keep myself from dragging her into the nearest supply closet and just fucking the shit out of her.
She had me addicted to everything about her, and I was not looking for a cure.
I shut the door to my office, hoping the peace and quiet will help me come up with a reasonable plan to make sure this thing between me and Denise didn’t backfire. I sat down and picked up the phone calling the one person who could always be objective.
“Jesus Christ. You do realize what time it is right?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m in love with a woman who has issues with my occupation, finances, age and race, Michael. You can lose out on a few hours of beauty sleep for this,” I scoffed at him. “Oh, and not to mention, we’ve only known each other two weeks.”
The phone was silent on the other end and I wasn’t sure if Michael was processing or trying to wake up. I got my answer when he said, “Okay. There’s absolutely nothing you, or she, can do about your ages or the color of your skin. Those are facts that cannot be changed.”
“Agreed…”
“So, ignore those, because it’ll be like beating a dead horse. Nothing you say or do will change those two facts.” Okay. I got that. “As for your money, explain how it’s not your money. None of what we have is because we earned it. It’s family money, and even our inheritance when we reach 30 was set up by our grandfather. Make it so she can’t blame you for something else that is out of your control.”
“What about our jobs and only knowing each other for two weeks?”
“I can’t help you with the two weeks thing, but if it’ll make her feel better, tell her to hang on for two years and I’ll switch departments with you when I graduate,” he answered, easily. And that was what made Michael special. Michael’s love was absolute. And it showed in the fact that he was willing to change the entire structure of his future and go into finance instead of personnel to make the woman I chose feel better about our relationship. Not to make me feel better, but to makeherfeel better about being with me.
I was at a loss for words. “Thanks, Mike.”
“Thank me by letting me go back to sleep,” he joked.
I hung up and got to work.
Chapter 11
Denise~
I snuck into work like I’d just stolen the Hope Diamond.
Now that it was a bright, sunny Monday morning, and my mind wasn’t being blown by Aiden’s hands, mouth, tongue and penis, the reality of what we were doing was really hitting home. When I stopped by Sarah’s desk to get an update on the morning’s activities, I was positive she could see Aiden’s ownership all over my being.
“Hey, Boss Lady,” she said, smiling way too cheerfully for a Monday morning.
“Good Morning, Sarah,” I greeted back, pray that guilt and regret weren’t plastered all over my face. “Okay, hit me with it and tell me everything I need to know.”
She chucked. “The good news is that it’s Monday,” she began.
I raised my brows. “That’s good news?”
This time her smile faltered, and she grimaced a bit. “It is when you realize that the Sam-Martin account isn’t adding up, but you have all week to figure it out.”
I could feel my spirit deflate. If there was ever an account I needed to be perfect, it was the Sam-Martin account. Mr. Raymond Samson was as wealthy and entitled as they came. He was also good looking, with his blonde hair and blazing blue eyes, and he knew it.
He’d been an account with BI way before I ever graced its hallways, but when I got promoted and the account became one of the hundreds I oversaw, well, Mr. Samson wasn’t shy about how closely he wanted to work together.
I had been polite, yet firm, when I explained the conflict of interest-which makes me a total hypocrite now, after being with Aiden-and he had backed off, but not entirely. He still asked me to dinner and made off-the-cuff remarks. But he’s never crossed the line of inappropriateness, so I hadn’t made a big deal out of his come-ons.
“What’s not adding up?” I asked. “Do you know?”
