Page 11 of Back for More
Wes
*Little White Lie*
I can hear Kate laughing outside my office door. Great. That means Lily has turned on the charm. If Kate actually likes her, I will never hear the end of it.
I quickly get up, deciding to put on my suit jacket. I don’t usually wear it in the office unless I’m meeting with new clients, but I feel the need to add an extra layer. If I’m going to be her boss, I’d better look like one the first time she sees me.
There’s a coy little knock, followed by: “Mr. Carver, I have Lily Barnes here to see you.”
I take a seat at my desk again, crack my knuckles, and prepare myself for an onslaught of sassy assholery.
The door opens, and the first thing through it is a mile-long, toned, bare, golden leg. That girl has always known how to make an entrance. I swear, everything’s moving in slow motion and I can hear “Pour Some Sugar On Me” somewhere in the background.
She’s just as lithe and languid as ever, her straight blonde hair hanging like a curtain over her face until she tosses it back and fixes me with her chestnut brown eyes. The warmth of them always surprises me. Every time.
As soon as she walks in, it’s like no time has passed at all since I last saw her. Not five years, not one day. I don’t even remember what I’ve been doing with myself all this time, other than trying to forget how stunning she is. She deactivated her social media accounts, so aside from that damn car insurance commercial that aired during the Super Bowl last year, nothing has prepared me for how soul-crushingly beautiful she is as an adult woman.
Jesus.
I somehow manage to stand up and cross over to just inside the doorway where she’s standing. She makes no effort to meet me halfway, of course. Maybe she’s afraid she’ll fall over in those four-inch heels.
She’s smirking at me, but I catch the flash in her eyes when they travel down my suited-up body and back up again. As I recall, the last time she saw me in a suit, we were being horny idiots at prom. But I manage to refrain from staring at her barely-buttoned-up, loose-hanging blouse and skirt that hits a few inches above the knee.You think you can knock me on my ass with that red lipstick and those four-inch heels? Think again. Things have changed. This guy is perfectly capable of keeping his lips and hands off you, Lily Barnes.
I shake her hand and give her a nod. “Miss Barnes.”
“Well, hello.” Her honeyed voice oozes a little less sarcasm than the last time I heard it. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Carver.”
“You can call me Wes.”
“Fantastic. I like hearing you call me Miss Barnes, though.” She tilts her head and slow-blinks at me, still a devious little flirt.
“We aren’t usually quite so formal around here, I’m afraid.”
“Well that’s a shame. I’ve always thought you look awfully nice in a suit.”
Kate stands behind her, pointing at Lily and animatedly mouthing the words,Oh. My. God! She’s gorgeous! You need to tap that!
“Thank you, Kate. You can hold my calls, unless Jacobi gets back to us.”
“Total privacy—you got it!” She winks.
“See you in a bit, Kate. Thanks,” Lily says over her shoulder.
“Have fun, doll.”
Doll?Kate doesn’t call peopledoll.She gives me an exaggerated wink as she exits and shuts the door.
“C’est vraiment bien de te voir. Ça va, monsieur?” she asks, sounding like a French native. I suppose it’s easier for her to tell me it’s good to see me in a foreign language.
When she was fourteen, she would sometimes help me out with my French studies—which was not at all humiliating, given that I was two years ahead of her.
“Ça va bien, merci, et toi?”
“Pas mal. Merci.”
“Ah, bien. Où est la discothèque?” And that’s about the extent of my spoken French at this point.
She laughs. A real laugh. I’ve always loved how her face is transformed when she laughs. It’s like watching a stone skip across the surface of a lake. Sudden flutters of genuine joy rippling across that carefully cultivated mask of indifference. I’ve seen beneath the mask, and it’s a bottomless, beautiful mess.
