Page 60 of The Stranger
Instead, I stand, bringing her with me. I carry her across the room and deposit her outside her bedroom door. She looks up at me with confusion in her eyes. Did she think I was going to continue this? To finish what we started?
In a perfect world, I would do just that. I’d like nothing more than to bury myself balls deep inside her warm, tight heat, but I can never go there despite how much I want to.
I need to clean up the mortifying mess I made in my pants and down a bourbon, or seven.
“It’s late,” I say as I lean down to brush my lips against hers. “Get some sleep.”
Hindsight can be a very sobering thing. Often clarity is difficult to grasp in the moment, but as I lay awake last night reflecting on what we did, there was one glaring detail that I failed to see. Delilah may have been a willing participant, but I was the one who made the first move. Which means I ultimately took advantage of her when she was in a vulnerable state, and that is unforgivable.
I’d planned on talking with her this morning, but I ended up taking the coward’s way out and left before she was up. I’m certainly not going to ignore last night by pretending it never happened. I was just tired, confused, and I needed a moment to collect myself. Some time to formulate a plan to ensure this doesn’t happen again.
How? I have no clue.
Do I like her? That’s a no-brainer. What’s not to like? She’s beautiful, caring, sweet, loyal, resilient, and her sheer strength is something you can’t help but admire.
On the downside, she’s also my employee, my temporary roommate, not long out of a recent breakup, and possibly still has feelings for her ex. Not to mention the glaringly obvious: she’s far too young for me.
I have to play it smart here. The last thing I want to do is hurt her. She has been through enough, and I don’t want to be an addition to the ever-growing list of people who have let her down.
My mind is still racing a hundred miles an hour by the time I arrive at the office. My first point of call is to pull out my phone and send a message to my PA.
Me: What’s the best variety of flowers to send someone as an apology?
Simone: Oh no, who have you pissed off now?
Her response has me mumbling profanities under my breath. I have my moments, like everyone, but running a company the size of mine is stressful. You’d think I was an ogre the way these women carry on at times.
Me: Never mind.
Simone: Sorry boss. Male or female?
Me: Female.
Simone: Friend or foe?
Fucking foe? I wouldn’t be sending flowers to an enemy.
Me: Can you just answer my question?
Simone: I am just trying to find out what type of flowers are in order.
Me: The biggest bunch.
Simone: Shit! Okay. One more question. Is it a romantic gesture?
Me: No, they are for an employee.
Simone: Please don’t tell me you’ve upset Delilah. She is the sweetest.
Me: It wasn’t intentional.
Simone: Oh, poor girl. Leave it with me. I’ll get it sorted. Do you want me to send them to her house or the office?
Me: The office.
The last thing I need is for my staff to find out she’s staying at my apartment. I got wind of a few rumours that were circulating when Delilah started working here. Compliments of that damn relationship status she posted.
Simone: Will I attach a card?
