Page 3 of Wrapped Up in You
I stand up, move toward the door, and as I’m about to open it for Todd, he’s doing so himself. We don’t usually have meetings as frequently as we have been lately. We’re both the CEOs here at the firm. From there, we have two chief engineers and two operations managers, who then branch off into different areas. The chief deals with structural and mechanical leads, where we have other engineers. The operations managers have project managers and site supervisors. We also have the administration side of things, which I fucking hate dealing with. Todd is usually the one who handles human resources, talent acquisition leads, and admin support.
I’d rather draw up what needs to be done, help the other engineers, and when the occasion occurs, go out to the job site where I can get my fucking hands dirty. While the air conditioning is nice in the hot summer months, it’s also nice when the weather turns cooler and the humidity drops below fifty percent.
Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to get out on a site in quite some time, but things may have changed with the planJagger needs drawn up for a new build. Which was where I was heading before Todd came to my office, well, after I did some reconnaissance first, that is.
“Hey, Crew, did I catch you at a bad time?” My suit jacket is off and the buttons at my throat are undone, which isn’t unusual after working for a few hours. Whereas if I were staying all day, I’d at least try to look like I’m staying in business mode. The extra button being undone, my shirt being wrinkled, and my hair looking like I’ve run my fingers through it all day are good indicators that I’m not staying at the office till closing time.
“Nah, just heading out. Jag needs me to look at something. Figured I’d take the plans with me, then go home after.” We don’t have set hours, but both of us try to be here at the beginning of the workday, if not earlier, and when one goes on vacation, the other stays. As for being here until the office technically closes, that’s up to the other.
“I won’t keep you, then. Serena, the paid intern we hired, will be starting with you tomorrow. I appreciate you taking her on.” I’ve yet to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, refusing to ask questions or get involved after Todd said it would be a conflict of interest for him, while also saying in not so many words to steer clear. I’ve kept to myself about the situation, for now.
“Kind of weird to pick up on a Friday, don’t you think?” I cock an eyebrow, and Todd takes a seat in one of the two chairs I have set up in front of my desk, similar to his office. The difference is that he has a black and chrome modern vibe, sprinkled with deep reds. I’m more of a creature of comfort, in my office and at home. Dark wood, oversized leather chairs, and whatever-the-fuck pillows or décor my mom and sister decide on when they go on a shopping adventure.
I drew the line when Joey tried to bring in some kind of goose-looking thing. The joke was on me, the look on my face had her doubling over in laughter. It wasn’t for me after all.Thank fuck. The last thing I needed was a white ceramic goose dressed in a tutu and cowgirl hat.
“Sandra said she finished with training early. May as well give her a few hours to see how Serena does.” New hires go through the process of a background check, a few classes on employee conduct or whatever the fuck you call it, and they also learn the computer system we use. “Serena, where do I begin? Well, she could use the money. She won’t ask, won’t accept, and would rather eat the cheap packets of ramen or canned soup. She’ll manage to make it through to her first paycheck, pay all of her bills, and budget for everything else, even though no one would hold it against her. Like my jacket, for instance. She had no problem borrowing it. Val suggested it as well, and two days later, it came back. Dry cleaned, when neither of us expected it, because now, we’ll be worried about what she’ll do for food or rack up credit card debt.”
I lean against my desk, hands in my pockets, and listen to what Todd has to say. Didn’t ask for this information dump. Still, I’m confused about what she is to him and how Val is involved. As far as I’m aware, they don’t have children, and Serena looks nothing like Todd or Val. Maybe she’s some kind of friend or something along those lines.
“Yeah.” I pull one hand out of my pocket, rub my hand down my chin, and just as I’m about to open my mouth, Todd follows up with another twist in the conversation.
“Maybe when you order lunch, get something for her, and I’ll pay you back.” Well, fuck. Kind of hard to say no to that. Plus, there’s no harm in feeding the woman. The last thing I’d want to be accused of is being an asshole and letting the sweet curves of Serena’s body diminish because of some kind of weird situation where she has to do it all on her own. Well, that’s whacked.
“Will do. Why don’t you talk to Sandra. I know we usually hold a week back, but what’s the point? You clearly know Serena,and it’s not like either of us asks for her to go above and beyond. Get her to do payroll, and she won’t have to go nearly as long in between.” It’ll be more work for human resources. Still, Sandra is paid damn well, has more benefits than she’d get at a corporation, and neither of us asks for anything extra. Even when we have to let someone go, Todd and I make sure we're there, just in case shit goes down.
“You know what? That’s not a bad idea.” Todd snaps his fingers, hops out of the chair, and extends his hand to shake mine. “Thanks, Crew. At the rate I’m going, I’ll owe you more than I could ever repay you.” He shakes my hand, and I return the gesture. Todd leaves as fast as he arrived, and I’m left shaking my head. I’ve got a shit ton of questions but not enough time to ask those questions, which means I’ll be making a call to Jude sooner or later.
I grab my things: keys, cell, jacket, and plans. Jude keeps harping on us to go digital, and while that sounds great in theory, the scope of work we do, well, it’s not always conducive.
“Later, Mary. Don’t stay too late, and feel free to transfer the important calls to my cell or send me a text with the context. I’ll be out at the jobsite with Jagger in Oak Haven.” She’s busy typing away, not responding right away, which means she’s finishing her thought and will reply once she’s done.
“Have a good day, Crew, and I can handle the calls. Don’t you worry.” Mary pauses. “Also, I won’t be here tomorrow. My granddaughter has her school play, in case you forgot.” Shit, I did, which means I’ll really be throwing Serena into things while trying not to leave Mary with too much work when she returns.
“No problem, and you caught me. I did forget, for a moment. Enjoy your time, and I’ll see you Monday.” When her phone rings, I take that as my cue to head out. Instead of taking the elevator, I use the stairs. The reason for that? Well, even I’m not ready to unpack my interest in the fair-skinned, blonde-haired,blue-eyed woman that has my dick in a constant state of arousal. I keep my head on a swivel, looking for her with each flight of stairs I land on. By the time I make it through every landing spot without a sight of her, I figure I’m shit out of luck.
The glass building with its open area on the main floor means my view is unhindered. I round the corner and see a woman with loose waves past her shoulders and a backside I could pick out of a lineup. Serena’s heart-shaped ass is only part of the package. The downside of holding back and watching from a distance is that when she disappears around the corner, so does my view.
“Fuck,” I grumble low enough so no one to hear. My cock is damn uncomfortable, and there won’t be any relief in sight until I’m home for the night.
Tomorrow is going to be the sweetest form of torture. Keeping my hands off her, well, that’s going to be damn near impossible.
2
SERENA
My brain is on information overload, and I still have to get through tomorrow. Then I can melt into my couch and binge-watch as many documentaries as one can while refusing to leave for any minor inconvenience. I’ve been in heels all week, along with a bra, and not the comfiest clothes a girl wouldn’t actually mind being in.
I walk through the small two-bedroom, one-bathroom home I’ve rented for the past five years. It’s full of pieces I’ve found along the way, bit by bit from other areas when I’d run across a post, get in my car, and drive for miles upon miles to pick up my purchase. I’ve done this for what seems like forever until my house was furnished. I still have certain pieces I’m looking for and will occasionally splurge if I come across an item. But for the most part, I put the brakes on any extra expenditures since switching to part-time work while going to school full-time.
That also meant taking handouts from my parents in the form of free meals. Okay, a lot of the time, I’d eat dinner, take leftovers, and any time Mom would pick up deals, she’d send one home with me. Then, when there were those times bills would pile up, the power bill would spike, and I’d need cash, I’dbegrudgingly accept their help. But I’m entirely too headstrong to openly take money from my parents, so instead, I’d do a few tasks around the house that they didn’t like to. For instance, last weekend, I deep cleaned the garage with Dad. I’d have done it anyway and for free, except neither of them would allow that. We came to an impasse until we all conceded.
They paid me, I worked my tail off, and now I should be good for the time being, or at least until I receive my last check from my previous job next week. It won’t be a lot of cash, just enough for gas and food, and that’s okay because my bills are completely paid for the month.
I gaze at the soft, warm tone of the walls, the dark wood flooring with an area rug in the middle of the bedroom, along with the sumptuous wrought iron bed that is centered in the room. It’s an antique I picked up for a steal at a thrift store. I painstakingly sanded the dresser and nightstand before refinishing them with a deep stain. Then there’s the bedding, a muted green and pink comforter with layers of pillows. Peeling myself out is impossible on the weekends, and god, I can’t wait for Saturday morning.
“Don’t do it,” I tell myself. The need to faceplant into one of my favorite areas of my home is real. Instead of letting my intrusive thoughts win, I keep walking and move further into the room, and don’t stop until I’m standing in front of my closet. When I kick off my heels, the arches in my feet relish being released from the torture chambers I have succumbed to. I go through my paces, unbuttoning my white blouse, allowing it to slide from my shoulders and drift to the floor before unzipping my pencil skirt. It meets the same fate as my top and shoes in a pile of clothes I’ll pick up later. The last step is unclasping my bra and sliding out of my panties.
“One more day,” I reiterate once I’m naked. There’s a temptation to say the hell with it, take a hot shower, and put ona pair of pajamas or comfy clothes, except I can’t. I promised my neighbor across the street that I’d take her boxer, Mackie, out for a walk, bring him home with me after his dinner, and take him back home in the morning. Talia works as a nurse at the hospital in the ICU department. Her hours are long, and she only works a few nights a week. Those nights are when I step in to help her out. We also get together to drink a glass of wine on each other’s front porches.
