more than my car. And everything is so perfect and sleek. The windows—”
“Who cares about the penthouse,” Claudia cuts in. “We want to hear about the kiss.”
“Yes, sorry… so we found ourselves in his bedroom at the end of the tour—”
“Ooohhh…the bedroom,” Abigails coos.
“Who cares about the bedroom,” Claudia scoffs. “Stop interrupting, Abby.”
“We ended up in his walk-in closet, standing in front of a rack of ties, and I was looking at them, and he pressed himself close against my back—”
“Did he have a stiffy?” Claudia asks.
Abigail, Sandra and Sally giggle like school girls, and I roll my eyes. “I couldn’t quite tell actually.”
“Uh, well,” Claudia says. “That’s no good. I’d be concerned about that if I were you.”
I shake my head. I have more grave concerns to mull over, like how I’m going to keep my job after this fiasco. “And then I whispered, ‘Kiss my neck.’ And he did. He kissed the back of my neck so softly, I could have died.”
“Oh, God, that’s hot,” Claudia gushes. “Someone bring me a fan.”
“That’s when I turned to him,” I continue, relishing in the sinful memory of it. “And he kissed my collarbone, and I reached for a kiss and he pushed me away. That’s the story. Are you happy now?”
“What a tease.” Claudia blows out a breath. “Your boss is a tease.”
“I don’t know,” I say in an attempt to defend him. “I just think he got carried away, and then realized what he was doing. He’s my boss. He can’t be kissing me.”
“Fuck, that’s hot,” Abigail chimes in.
Sandra and Sally both furiously nod in quiet agreement. Lorraine just gives me the evil stare. You little slut, it whispers.
“What about you, Abby?” I say, desperate to change the subject. “How are things with Abe? How is the baby making project going?”
She blushes. “Well. Very well. No baby yet, but we’re having fun.”
I smile, happy for her. She has the world at her feet. She’s marrying the love of her life, and working on a family. Her little boy or girl will surely have a sibling too. Sometimes I get sad at the thought that it might just be the two of us, Ethan and I.
I would have loved for him to have a little brother or sister.
9
I consider my options carefully. I have a lot of skirts; office pencil skirts, casual jean skirts, and flirty flowy skirts. I think a fun playful skirt would be best in this case. Or perhaps a pencil skirt? I wonder what Weston prefers. He strikes me as a bit of a control freak, a take-charge type, a Dominant… a Daddy. Flirty fun skirt, it is.
I finally settle on my favorite red polka dot skirt, and pair it with a frilly white off-the-shoulder top. I usually only wear this top in the summer, but he specifically requested off-the-shoulders.
Should I even dress up like this? The bet was just for fun. Or maybe it was serious. I really don’t know. And after the recent turn of events, he might not want me to dress provocatively. He might be all business again.
I hate this.
I finally decide to keep the outfit. The skirt is demure, just above the knee, and the top is tasteful. The pumps I select are pink patent leather Mary Janes with a rounded toe as he requested, and a three inch chunky heel. I throw on a grey cardigan, and I actually look librarian-ish. I wear my hair down as he requested.
I kiss Ethan goodbye, and thank Patricia again. My heart pounds as I head to the elevator. I have no clue what will happen next, and I can’t stand it.
I shake my head, telling myself that it will all be okay in the end. He can’t possibly fire me because of last Friday’s incident.
My heart is beating like a jackhammer when he answers the door. He stares down at my shoes, not quite able to look at me. His eyes slowly travel up over my legs and my skirt, and finally he reaches my face and pulls his gaze away. “Come in.”
“How are you?” I ask in an attempt at pretending everything is normal, which it clearly isn’t.
“Well,” he says and follows me to my office. The click-clack of my heels is the only sound we hear. When I finally reach my desk, I exhale a long breath. This is going to be a long day.
“I’d like to see you in my office once you get settled in,” he tells me, his