Page 36 of Truth
“Ah, okay…so in the meantime, you’re what? Gonna buy some cats and go to Costco for batteries?” I can hear her nails clicking the keyboard like some evil gargoyle.
“Cats? Really? Why are we friends? You’re fired.” Sitting up, I bark out a laugh.
“Yeah, good luck with that one. My work here is done. I’ll just tell HR you made death threats against me. Listen to me…”
Her phone muffles and I can hear her talking to someone else, though I can’t make out anything she’s saying. She comes back on the line with a deep breath.Uh-oh, something’s up.
“Whoa, what’s up?”
“Sorry, Drew, let me ring you back. Fires to put out…”
“Gotcha.” Hanging up, I look down at my desk littered with paperwork and try to keep my mind from wandering, but it inevitably drifts to her lecture. She’s right; we both know it, but too much time has passed now. How the hell do you just call someone and say, “Hey, remember me? I think we’re meant for each other. Sorry I deserted you and left you standing on an airstrip.” Even saying it to myself, I know that isn’t the whole truth.
If I know him, like I believe I do, the real problem isn’t going to be that I waited. The problem is going to be that I hesitated. I know he won’t look for me; he said as much. He also said he wouldn’t forgive me. I’m scared he’s telling the truth. My night with him will forever be a ‘once in a lifetime’ event unless I make the next move, but I’m afraid. I knew him for twenty-four hours, and I still can’t scrub my mind clean of him after one month. The future seems dim.
The rest of my afternoon flies by less any more foul-ups, and by the time my assistant Boyd ducks his head in to say goodbye, I realize the sun has gone down.
“Thanks, Boyd. Good night.”
“Good night, Ms. Matthews. I’ve updated your calendar, but I apologize. I requested the information about a morning meeting with Ms. Andrews, but she told me she would handle it personally.”
“Oh, okay, don’t worry about it. Have a nice night.” She probably wants to hassle me more over breakfast. At least I can get a mimosa.
Packing up my laptop case, I shoot a quick text to Gretch asking her about our “meeting” and lean across my desk to turn off my monitors. I pause as I look at the screen, gnawing at my bottom lip like an addict because that’s what I am. My fingers hit the keys, and I’m bombarded with images of the man I’m obsessed with.
Flashes of our night together infiltrate my mind, causing my body to heat up, and I reach up to pull my hair over my shoulder. Closing my eyes, I remember that small action when he moved my hair to expose my neck. The feel of his lips moving against my throat, his words breathed into my skin, leaving me branded by his lust. Licking my lips slowly, I lay my head back on my chair and remember the feel of his body and the grip of his hands against my skin. I can still taste his climax on my lips. Before I know what I’m doing, my hand begins moving up my thigh, pulling my black silk skirt with it. Seeing him standing over me, my legs part for him, and I can almost feel the brush of his fingertips tracing my inner thigh. “Tell me what your body wants,” he growls. My breath is coming in pants as the anticipation of his touch clouds my judgment, and I reach for my swollen center.
I’m jolted out of my fantasy by a knock at the office door, hitting the top of my hand on the underside of my desk in the process.
“Shit! Ow—yes, sorry, come in…” My voice is high and shaky.
Boyd peeks around the door again. “Sorry to bother you, erm, but I forgot to confirm my early leave tomorrow. My mom is having a dinner for my dad’s retirement.” His face is expectant, as if he’s hoping I remember whatever the hell he’s talking about. Right now, he could say he was leaving early to pick blueberries and I wouldn’t care because I’ve never felt so embarrassed.
Hoping my cheeks aren’t as red as I expect them to be, I keep my tone clipped. “Sounds fine. No problem.” Putting my head down, I try and keep the focus on the computer screen. I would rather him think I’m a jerk instead of realizing I almost just masturbated in my office.
What’s happening? I need an intervention. I’m masturbating to screenshots of a man that I ran out on. I should be googling a twelve-step program based on Dominic King instead of indulging in any more fantasies.
“Get the fuck off my back, Luca. I don’t need any more shit from you.” I hate when he thinks he needs to fix me.
“Yes, you do, Dom. You’ve been an asshole for the last month. I don’t care what you need to do, but if it takes fucking half of Chicago, I’d help make that happen. I’m just happy you’re working from home today. Everyone hates you here.” His laugh makes my eyes roll. He loves being the favorite.
“Fuck everyone. I happen to like working from home. I get to wear basketball shorts into my office.” Chuckling, I blow off his comment.
“You’re missing the point, Dom…”
“Enough. I don’t want to fuck half of Chicago. I have no interest in a relationship of any kind right now. I’m focused on work.”Work and her.If he knew just how far down the rabbit hole I’ve fallen, this conversation would be an intervention.
“I knew it!”I shouldn’t have even thought it.
“Knew what, ya lunatic?” Gripping the receiver, I secretly wish it was his neck.
“Knew that you are still hung up on her. Admit it: ever since you met that chick, your head hasn’t been screwed on tight.”
“Don’t call her a chick. She’s a grown woman, and it has nothing to do with her.” The end.
“Just get one of the guys to track her down.”Already done.
“Life isn’t as simple as that—”
