Page 27 of Give Me a Chance
I’mthe first one to arrive at the office—even after stopping to grab a cup of coffee for Natalie. She gets there five minutes later, looking gorgeous in a plain tan raincoat.
“Here you go. Look it over before the meeting.” She drops a folder on my desk and starts walking away.
“Wait! I got you a coffee.” It’s an almond milk iced latte, which I may or may not have noticed is her go-to coffee order.
“Thanks.” She looks taken aback, her mouth parting in surprise.
She walks to her desk, and I open the folder. She was right, my proposal was nice, but poorly planned. She took it and made it...incredible.
In the staff meeting, I let her take the lead sharing the project with everyone.
“We’ll contact local schools and ask them for help. We’re hopeful they’ll give us a room in their facility and help us with marketing the clinic to the parents. Luckily, we already have all the permits since some of our programs are held there.” She prepared a contact form, along with a list of elementary and middle schools she proposes we contact. “Clients will book a time slot in the clinic using a QR code—so they don’t have to wait in line.” She smirks at me, before presenting the QR code.
People are enthusiastic about the idea, Kiara especially.
“Let’s give a round of applause for our newest staff member, Matt, and his amazing idea!”
“Thank you, Kiara, but this was all Natalie. She turned my naïve idea into a project worth doing.” I glance a look at Natalie, and she gives me a thankful smile. It’s small, almost invisible, but it’s the most honest smile she ever gave me.
“Of course, our Natalie is a superstar. And I’m glad you two will be working together throughout the project!” Her eyes widen when she realizes Kiara expects us to work together during the entire project.
After the meeting, I meet her at her desk.
“Thanks for making my project way better than it was.” I give her a soft smile. “What do you need me to do?”
“We just need to hash out our schedules. I want to start next week before the gala rush starts.” Each year, the BYC hosts an annual fundraiser gala for their donors. According to Anne, the office turns hectic when the gala planning starts.
“Sure. My schedule for next week is wide open at the moment, so everything works for me.”
“Great. I’ll contact the school and let you know when we have something to work with.” I’m getting dismissed. Not sure if she prefers to work alone or wants to avoid working with me, but I’ll let it slide. She honestly did wonders with my proposal, and I need her help with the rest of it.
Thinking of spending more and more time with Natalie makes me hopeful. So, I spend the evening at home, doing research. Research on the topic of choking, or as the internet calls it, breath play. I’m not trying to be presumptuous, but it happened three times already, so I think it’s realistic to hope it will happen again. And I want to give her anything she needs.
As predicted, breath play is a dangerous game, but after a hundred articles and informative videos, I’m pretty confident I could try it out. The thought never crossed my mind before, but imagining Natalie submitting to me like that gets me hard as a rock. Imagining giving her exactly what she needs is an intoxicating thought.
Anne invitesus to Friday night drinks at our favorite bar, Factory. I manage to squeeze in a workout before we meet at the bar at 7:30. The girls introduced us to Factory, but it soon become our favorite place to have drinks. The industrial style is effortlessly cool, the vibe is great, and they keep the number of creeps to a minimum, courtesy of caring bartenders and security at the entrance.
Anne, being always on time, is the only one there when I arrive. We order our drinks, not waiting for the others.
“So, how’s your project going?”
“It’s going great. We made arrangements with three schools, and we’re starting the clinic next week.”
“You and Natalie certainly made an impression at the meeting.” She shoots me a pointed look and I remember she knows about us. I’m not sure Natalie shared what happened last Friday at the office, but she knows what happened before.
When she realizes I won’t comment on that, she continues: “I’m just glad to see the two of you getting along.”
Pretty soon, the others arrive, so our conversation turns group friendly. I wasn’t aware how much Natalie and I dampened the group mood before. Today, the conversation flows easily; there’s no tension whatsoever, and there are no annoyed looks exchanged between the others. Regret forms in my stomach. I never wished for our silly little hate baby to affect the others, but it did.
She, of course, looks amazing. Her hair is wild as usual, her shoulder bare in an off-the shoulder blouse. Her stilettos give her a boost in height, making her a perfect height to bend downslightly and kiss. Kiss those plump, sassy lips. Not that it’s an option, unfortunately.
“So,” Connor turns to me, “there’s an event at the club I think would be good for you. If you’re still interested.” Natalie sits on the other side of him and turns as soon as she hears it.
“The club? Your club?”
“Yes,” Connor answers, apology in his eyes.
“Matt at a sex club?”
