Page 90 of Honest With You

Fuck. This woman is my boss now, not just my ex. I need to get a hold of myself.

“I’m sorry–”

She holds a hand up and she meets my gaze. “It’s okay. We have history, Jesse, but for all intents and purposes, I have an image I need to maintain for the sake of my company. I appreciate the sentiment but I need you to remain professional, especially within the confines of work.”

She doesn’t even wait for me to respond, and with a stiff nod, she exits the room. Like a puppy my eyes follow her every move while I once again mentally kick myself for all the mistakes I made that cost me that woman.

* * *

The rest of the day is uneventful. Aside from an email from Ava asking me to slot some time in the studio next week for Mickayla, I don’t see or hear from her for the rest of the day. Not that I would have the chance, given I hid in my studio two floors away from her for the rest of the day. I didn’t even come out for lunch even when Mandy, another producer, barged in reminding me I still owe her a date. Once again, I fucked up with a woman. Since she started working here six months ago, she has been on my ass, flirting and shamelessly asking me out and I finally caved and went. At the end of the night when she asked if I wanted to go home with her, I made the stupid mistake and blurted outraincheck? Now at least twice a week, I’m subjected to her blatant advances, and I only have myself to blame.

Stifling a yawn, I upload everything I worked on into a USB. While I wait for that to finish, I kick my feet up on my workstation and pull out my phone. I have a missed call from my mom and I know if I don’t call her back soon, she’s going to show up at my apartment. I tap on her name to call her back, tap the speaker and set my phone down while I gather all the paperwork I need to submit by end of day. Two rings later, she picks up and screams but she’s not even talking to me. She’s singing along to a K-pop song.

I chuckle, shaking my head at my mom’s antics. She never fails to make me laugh, even when it’s tough.

“Mom!”

I can almost hear her grin through the phone. “Hello, my favorite son. You got something to tell me?”

I roll my eyes, knowing full well she knows I’m doing so. “I’m your only son. Matter of fact, I’m youronlychild.”

Coughing, she says in a low tone meant to annoy me, “That you know of.”

“Mom!”

Laughing, she clears her throat. “I’m kidding, Jess. So anyways, got anything to share with your dear old mom?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I struggle to not lose it. I swear Uncle Luke and my mom gossip more than teenagers in high school. Releasing a sigh, I remember why I’m grateful they have kept their friendship over the years. Even after what happened with Ava and then my parents divorcing shortly after, Uncle Luke kept in contact with us and always reached out.

“Nope.” I emphasize thepwith a pop. “Got nothing.”

“Jesse.” She’s grumbling on the other end of the line, undoubtedly cursing me in the many languages she knows.

Grabbing the USB, I slide it in the pocket of the folder. As I’m shutting down my computer. I’m shocked to see it’s almost seven, and then my stomach grumbles. No wonder I’m so annoyed. I’m hangry.

I take my phone off speaker and press it against my ear. “Look Mom, I gotta go. I didn’t realize how late it was and I still have to finish up some work.”

“Suuureeee, son. Work,” Mom laughs then yells out, “Call me later, my son! Love you!” Then, she hangs up not even waiting for a response from me.

I swear the women in my life were created to drive me insane.

I’m scrolling my phone when the elevator doors open. I opted to use the VIP elevator since the regular one takes forever but when I look up I wonder if subconsciously I was hoping to see her again.

Her face is buried in her phone as she taps in frustration, her bag weighing heavily on her shoulder. She looks up in surprise, probably not expecting anyone else to use the elevator only the Torres family supposedly has access to. I flip my badge to show her my access card. Nodding her head, she silently asks me to come in, stepping into a corner to give me room. She throws her phone in her bag and her shoulders hunch over like she’s avoiding contact with me in this enclosed space. I can’t help the grin that splits my face when I see the flush in her skin at our proximity. The doors close and I hear her sigh beside me as she leans her head back and closes her eyes.

She mumbles something under her breath and my breath catches in my throat when I catch some of the words.

“I need to get laid.”

My hand slams against the emergency stop button. Next thing I know, I’m crowding her against the corner of the elevator and her bag drops to the floor with a thud.

Her hands fly to my chest in surprise, and the warmth of it against my skin has me breathing even harder, my chest constricting at the memories of our time together.

I fucking missed this woman.

“What did you say?”

I’m aware I sound crazed. Probably look like it too, but in a matter of seconds, I’m completely unhinged in her presence. She is the only one to ever evoke these caveman feelings in me. I feel possessive.

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