lunch. “In any case, I put myself through school and became the youngest CEO of a Fortune 500 company, so all’s well that ends well.”
“Are you happy?” She nibbles a cherry.
I chew my steak and think about her question. Happy. That’s not something I’ve ever endeavored to be. Wealthy? Yes. Successful? Yes. Envied? Yes. But happy has never entered the equation. Not until … I look her in the eye.
“The lunch hour is over.” I lay my silverware down and push the tray to her, then turn to my computer screen.
“Okay.” She gives me a secret smile, one that I’ve never seen her give anyone else.
After stacking the trays, she turns, and I look up, taking in her peppy little strut to my door. When she opens it, Mr. Grumpy Pants is there giving me a rude stare, then he turns, his tail in the air, and trots away.
10
Georgia
I click through the dresses one after another, not sure which would be best. I wish Mr. Baxter was in the office. That way I could go into his office and ask him which one he likes. I want to make sure I’m getting something he approves of, and I’m starting to feel overwhelmed. Maybe we should match? Do I need to worry about what color my dress is? Does it need to go with the little handkerchief that men put in their suit pockets? Do I need one of those flower things? Or is that for prom? I wouldn’t know because no one asked me to prom, so I didn’t go. I have a ton of questions, and I’m not sure what to do.
Maybe I should send him screenshots of the dresses I like? I could go down to the store and try them on and Facetime. This makes more sense to me, and it’s not because I want to know what he’s up to. His calendar is marked unavailable. I don’t know when he changed it but it’s been that way all morning.
I’ve sent him emails on other work-related items, and he promptly responded to them. I also asked if I needed to cancel his lunch with Mr. Longway, and he said he’d already handled it. Does he not think I’m capable of doing it?
I wiggle in my seat. It’s so hard to break rules when he’s not here to see me do it or give me my punishment. Him not being here feels like a punishment in itself. My phone buzzes across my desk. I look down to see my dad’s name. I normally answer his calls, mostly because they are few and far between. It’s been months, maybe a year, since we spoke last.
I reach for my phone but can’t bring myself to click the answer button. I’m working. I shouldn’t be taking personal calls. Now, if Mr. Baxter were here I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’d talk extra long and loud enough to let him know it wasn’t a work call. That would probably earn me a spanking. My face heats thinking about it. I've had trouble concentrating since he put his face between my thighs and made me his lunch. Now I’m concerned about whoever else he’s having lunch with. I fold my arms over my chest and glare at the pretty dresses on the screen.
“What’s wrong?” Kurt asks.
I look up at him, not having heard him approach my desk.
“Nothing.” I put on a smile. Mr. Grumpy Pants jumps on my desk, glaring at him. He’s so adorable that my forced smile turns into a real one as I pet his soft head. I should get him a little suit for the event on Friday. He seems to be enjoying his vest. He might not get to go with me to the gala, but he could look the part for the night. Who doesn't like getting all dolled up when they get the chance?
“Sushi?” Kurt asks.
I’d completely forgotten he asked me to go to lunch yesterday. I thought I’d be having lunch with Mr. Baxter. I’d been looking forward to it. The man’s mouth might always be set in a firm hard line, but not when it was between my legs. Oh. My. God. I can’t believe I just thought that.
“Are you okay? You’re turning red.”
“Hot,” I say. “Just feeling a little hot today.” I take off my pink cardigan that has silver sequins on the sleeves.
“Well, it’s a little chilly out, so you might want to put it back on before we head out.”
“I