Raine (Gods of the Fifth Floor #2) - M.V. Ellis Page 0,46

for it, so instead, she settled for sighing resignedly, and placing it on the desk in front of me.

“You’re making a mistake, and I’m not talking about the sex. I’m talking about your career. This will put you on the map. You do this, and you can literally tell me to go fuck myself and walk into any job in the city. The world, even.”

“Like I said before, that’s not what I want.”

“Well you should. Besides, some things in life aren’t about what you want, but what you need. You need this.” I reached for the small, sleek remote on my desk and pressed it. She looked startled at the sound of the click.

“What was that?”

“I’m fairly sure from the look on your face that you know exactly what it was. I just locked the door.”

“You can’t hold me here against my will.”

“Absolutely true. I can’t, and I’m not.” I stood up and handed her the remote. “You’re free to go whenever, but if you really wanted to, you’d be gone already.”

“This is insane. You’re insane.”

“Maybe. You wouldn’t be the first person to say so.” I rounded the desk and approached her. I could almost read the thoughts as they cycled through her mind, and she weighed up her options. Fight or flight. Stay or go. When I was right in front of her, I stood stock still waiting for her next move. As with the previous night, I wanted her to be the one to close the gap, take the last step. I wasn’t a predator.

“This isn’t a good idea.”

“Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. Although you know they say that no idea’s a bad idea.”

“Well I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but they have it twisted. There are bad ideas, which are often followed by bad decisions. This feels like both.” I wondered if people were born so sensible and uptight, or if they grew that way.

I shrugged. “Why?”

“Well for one thing, it’s the middle of the day. It was different last night. It was late. We had the building to ourselves.”

“The door is locked. It’s more secure than Fort Knox. Someone could bomb this place to the ground, and the door would probably be the last thing standing. Besides, it’s not like you’re the first…” I managed to catch myself before I completed the sentence, knowing that it was more likely to piss her off than turn her on.

“I work for you. It’s just not a good look.”

“Technically, since you resigned and now have a new position, you work with me, not for me. Granted you work for the company I own, which I’ll agree isn’t the best look. But if you knew me, you’d know that I don’t give even half a fuck about keeping up appearances. That’s fake-ass toxic bullshit, and I’ve had about enough of it to last several lifetimes. So yeah. Besides which, who’s looking?”

“Given that you’re the Creative Director, I’d say pretty much everyone.”

“Screw them. I can count the people whose opinions I care about on one hand.”

“Okay, but I care. We’d been drinking, so maybe we can be excused for doing something we shouldn’t have. But it’s different in the harsh light of day. When we’re stone-cold sober.”

“Well you got the stone-cold part right, but sober is another story.”

She looked at me as though I’d suddenly grown two heads.

“It’s like 10 a.m. You’ve been drinking already?”

“Who said anything about booze? You’ve seen how little I sleep. Did you think I was the Energizer bunny?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Blow is life.”

“Still. I’m sober. Plus, this is different. It’s planned. Premeditated. Last night was a heat of the moment thing, it’s not like we meant it to happen.”

“Speak for yourself. I wanted to fuck you from the moment I set eyes on you, gawking at me like a startled rabbit. It’s been a case of when, not if, ever since. Now, are you done inventing excuses not to do something you clearly really fucking want to do?”

“They’re not excuses, they’re reasons. And who says I really want to?”

“Excuses. Reasons. Semantics. They are two sides of the same coin. And you say you really want to. Not in so many words, of course, but actions speak louder than words, and if you didn’t want me, you wouldn’t be standing here finding spurious reasons not to do this. In fact, you probably wouldn’t have been here at all. Caitlin”—Carla—“said you called her to resign first thing. You must have known I’d ask you to stay, yet here you