Page 59 of Strictly Business

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“I still can’t believe this is what you thought your party to celebrate you scoring your first client was going to be,” Samantha says with a laugh, looking around the conference room.

It’s a friendly laugh, like she’s laughing with me rather than at me and I join her. It is comical when I think back to the party, the venue, the way people dressed to impress, and I thought it was going to be just like this. A few sausage rolls and canapes with warm champagne in the break room of the office. This party isn’t even that lame. It’s in the conference room so there is plenty of room for everyone rather than the break room where it would be rather cramped and while there is champagne circulating, it’s not warm. The only real similarities are the sausage rolls being offered, and everyone loves a good sausage roll so I can forgive that one.

This time, Wyatt decided to do the party here. He said that landing Bellisario’s was too big of an achievement for the company to just let it go without any celebrations at all, but because it wasn’t a new associate involved with it, there was no guest of honor, so it seemed a bit over the top doing the whole party thing like he did for the associates when they landed their first clients. Generally speaking, he doesn’t throw a party every time someone lands a client. Only new associates getting their first one, or something as huge as Bellisario’s.

To be honest, as much as I enjoyed my party, I kind of prefer the more chilled out vibe of this one. My party felt like an event that people were using to mingle and impress, where this one feels like colleagues celebrating together. It started at five and it is likely to be over at seven, which I’m also pleased about, because it means that I can show my face, be sociable, and still have time to spend time with Wyatt this evening. Alone time rather than more hiding our relationship time.

CHAPTER43

Serena

Imove about the room talking to people. I answer a million questions about being in Rome and what it’s like and what Mr Bellisario is like, and what our hotel was like, all of which are topics I try to answer the questions I get asked on as best as I can. Of course, there’s the fourth topic too – the elephant in the room so to speak – Ruth and what happened to get her fired while we were in Italy. Whenever that one comes up, I just dodge it and say I don’t really know and it’s none of my business anyway. That puts everyone except the biggest gossips to shame. Most of them see themselves in the bit where I say it’s not my business because it’s also not theirs, but the real gossip seekers just laugh and say it doesn’t matter whose business it is, they need to know all about it. I tell them I haven’t been here long enough to be privy to that kind of information and they just believe me, assuming that Wyatt asked me to leave the room while he spoke to Ruth. I think if he hadn’t yelled at me, he would have, but that was my vindication, getting to see firsthand what really happened to that slide.

Finally, people start to drift off and I decide to be one of them. As long as I’m not the first to go, I don’t feel like I’m drawing attention to myself or being unsociable. I go around and say my goodbyes. When I say goodbye to Wyatt, he smiles at me and then he looks at his watch and does a show of not realizing the time.

“If you can give me two minutes to run back to my office and grab my things, I’ll give you a ride home,” he says. “I didn’t realize the time.”

“Ok, thank you,” I say all sweetness and light like he isn’t coming back to my place to fuck my brains out. “I’ll wait at the elevators.”

I don’t have to wait long before Wyatt joins me, and we go down to the lobby together and then out into the parking lot and into his car. He starts the engine and pulls out and heads towards my place.

“I don’t know what it is about champagne, but it always makes me horny,” I say after a moment.

Wyatt laughs and accelerates slightly.

“You are always horny,” he says.

“Is that a problem?” I ask, knowing it isn’t or he wouldn’t have accelerated.

“No,” he says quickly. “In fact, it’s the very opposite of a problem. What would that be?”

“A solution?” I suggest.

“Hmm that doesn’t really work does it. Let’s just stick with it not being a problem in any way, shape, or form,” Wyatt says. “And know now if that ever changes, I will be bulk buying champagne and leaving it all around my apartment, your house and the office, just to be sure you have some.”

I laugh and Wyatt laughs with me.

“I don’t think it will come to that, but just so you know, if you do decide to do that, I’m partial to strawberries with my champagne,” I say, still laughing.

“Oh, you’re pushing your luck now,” Wyatt says. “Champagne and strawberries. How frivolous.”

We get to my place, and we get out of the car and head inside. We practically run up the garden path to my house. We reach the front door and I fumble my keys out of my purse and unlock the front door. I move aside and let Wyatt in first and then I follow and kick the front door closed behind us. I go to lock the door, but I drop my bunch of keys. I think about getting them, but Wyatt is pulling me towards him, and he is so much more appealing than my keys. Fuck it. I can lock the door later. It’s not like I live somewhere dangerous.

I melt into Wyatt’s arms and into his kiss as he walks me into the living room, his mouth not leaving mine. As we reach the living room, I push his jacket off his shoulders, and he unwraps his arms from around me just long enough to take the jacket off and throw it onto the couch. We are still joined at the mouth, but Wyatt pulls away quickly to whip his tie over his head and then our mouths come back together in a desperate, hungry kiss.

I start unbuttoning Wyatt’s shirt and when it’s all open I run my hands over his belly and chest, loving the feel of the solidness beneath his skin. I moan into his mouth in appreciation of Wyatt’s hot body. I run my hands down his sides and then up and down his back, caressing his skin and running my nails lightly over it, something that I know turns him on so much.

My doorbell buzzes at that point and Wyatt and I both jump. Our kiss comes apart as we laugh at our own jumpiness.

“Are you not going to answer it?” Wyatt asks.

I shake my head.

“No. I’m not expecting anyone. It’ll be someone trying to sell me shit or have me sign their petition or something equally annoying,” I say. “Now. Where were we?”

Wyatt leans in to kiss me again.

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