Page 50 of Mine to Love

“No worries. Did you get much rest last night? You stayed up pretty late working on your presentation the night before.”

If he had an inkling of an idea of how little sleep I got last night, I’m sure Doug would faint. If I wasn’t completely satisfied and sore in all the right places, I’d have been a little more disappointed at the lack of morning sex.

“I’m relaxed and ready for the final assignment. Are Margaret and Chad already here?”

Doug curls his lips in trying to contain a grin and shakes his head. “They went back home already.”

“Oh.” I fiddle with the strap of my messenger bag.

“Come on. Melinda wants to talk with you.” He hurries off toward the conference room, and I follow.

Melinda is already seated at the head of the table, a coffee and a thin folder in front of her. Doug pulls out a chair next to her and motions for me to take it, then sits opposite me, all while grinning like a kid with the coolest secret.

“Good morning, Reese. I hope you’re well rested.”

My cheeks warm and I pray she hasn’t hedging into my evening activities. Did Logan come in bragging about his night of debauchery? No, he’s too reserved to talk about his personal life with his staff, much less his sexual appetite.

“I did, and I’m ready to work.”

“Well, we have a slight change in plans today.” She wears the same grin Doug had on a few minutes ago. “We won’t be testing you with scenarios and numbers today.”

“Oh.” I would have been nervous if Melinda and Doug weren’t still smiling sweetly at me.

“We’d like you to work on the Odyssey project.”

“The Odyssey project?”

Melinda pushes the folder across the table to me. “It’s your first client. Congratulations, the job is yours if you want it.”

I blink wide eyes at her and then Doug, who winks at me. “Mr. Pierce couldn’t be here this morning, but he sends his congratulations as well.”

“He’s...not here?”

“He has other business to attend to, but he was quite adamant we hire you.”

Quite adamant. In other words, he felt guilty about ravishing me, about going against his not mixing business with pleasure rule and hired me. It would make more sense not to hire me, thus not mixing business and pleasure, but Logan Pierce wasn’t raised that way. I should be celebrating, jumping up and down with joy at getting the job.

Part of me is fuming that he cast me off like a cheap whore, leaving me in the middle of the night then ghosting me at his office today. Does he not realize my new position will require us to work together from time to time?

I contain my anger and train my attention on Melinda who briefs me on the job, the expectations, and the Odyssey file. I have the next two weeks to look it over before presenting my final assessment with Mr. Pierce.

Thankful for the work to keep my mind off my arrogant asshole new boss, I dive into the files and research the tech company located in Nashua, New Hampshire. This job is important to me. More important than a one-night fling with my boss. I won’t let him know how much he got to me.

Sex isn’t ever anything personal, yet Logan touched me in places, spoke words never spoken, and made it all feel way too personal.

***

AT FIRST, I DIDN’T think I’d need two weeks to come up with a proposal for Odyssey. It only took me ten hours to work one up for the company during my interview. Granted, most of the research had already been done for me, and it was a much smaller business than the tech firm in New Hampshire. Since I feel obligated to put in a two weeks’ notice at the credit union, I have to squeeze in my research at night and during my lunch break, which isn’t ideal.

I stay up late and am running on four hours of sleep a night and coffee fumes for energy. Doug and Melinda have checked in with me regularly, but not a word from Logan. They make excuses for him, or maybe they’re legit reasons why he couldn’t give me a courtesy congratulations phone call, text, or email.

The tellers and even Warren show up for my farewell party Friday evening. It’s a small gathering at Dockside. Drinks, appetizers, and a cake, as well as unnecessary gift cards and flowers. It isn’t like I’m moving away, and I have my accounts at the credit union, so I’ll still see my former colleagues. But it’s nice.

On Saturday, Emerson takes me out for lunch to celebrate the new job. A new job working with a boss who hasn’t talked to me in two weeks, not since he brought me to orgasm five—or was it six—times.

“What does your office look like?” Emerson asks, sipping her mimosa.

“No idea. I haven’t been in the building yet.”

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