Chapter Twenty-Three - Ellie
Don’t keep me waiting.
Is that hot? Or not?
I can’t tell.
McAllister Stonewall certainly has an air of superiority about him. I’m sure it comes with the territory. Billionaire’s son, trust fund, accountable to no one.
But he did apologize and he did admit he was wrong. That counts for something. I’m not sure what yet. But something.
All week I’ve been thinking about him. But why? It’s not the money. I’m not rich by any means, but I’m not poor either. I’m a saver. I live in a Tech Center apartment to save gas on a long commute and because it’s kind of a dead area. A place to work, not to live. So the apartments are new, nice, and affordable.
And I really do believe in my book. I believe in my new career. I know that my life forward involves intimate one-on-one meetings with people who need guidance. My degree might be in communications, but I minored in psychology, and I’ve had enough people tell me my words make a difference to them to believe in myself. I think leaving is a good idea. I think I’ll be successful.
No. Mac’s money is not the source of the nagging desire that’s been floating around inside me all week.
It’s certainly got something to do with his good looks. He’s taller than Heath. Not by much, but it’s noticeable. And while his blond hair is technically short, it’s long in all the right places. Enough to give it that messy look that drives women wild. The just-rolled-out-of-bed look. The just-ran-my-fingers-through-it look. The just-lie-back-and-enjoy-it look.
But no. It’s not the way he looks. That’s not what’s got my attention.
I do like his bossiness. Which walks that fine line just between rude and fuck-hot. It’s definitely a contributor.
I guess it’s all of that put together that makes him seem so… perfect. Maybe too perfect?
The thing that really nags at me though—the thing that has been nagging at me since the day I first looked at him a little closer—is this missing past business. There’s something wrong with that. Like he was erased. How powerful does one have to be to erase themselves from the internet?
It can’t be done even if it appears it has been done.
The power, I realize. I like his power. I like the way he talks to me. The way he assumes I will just obey his commands. The way he holds me still when I feel like things are spinning out of control. The way he pulls me close.
Maybe this is just some stupid end-of-job fling. It probably is. But it’s fun. Like he said. It’s fun.
I have to contort myself to get my dress straightened out. The zipper is almost impossible to reach and while I don’t need to pull it all the way down to my knees again—mission accomplished there—I do need it to cover my round ass.
I chuckle a little at the thought. How I must have looked to Mac as I was bent over the desk, the dress unzipped to my waist, my white panties not enough to prevent him from getting a good look at the desire spilling out from between my legs.
Yes. It’s the power.
He’s self-assured. He’s confident. He’s commanding.
I like all of that.
I shuffle through my large pink clutch until I come up with a compact and open it.
Jesus. I looked well-fucked.
My cheeks are rosy, my eye makeup is slightly smudged, my hair is messy, and my lipstick is gone.
I suddenly have the desire to walk out of this office just the way I am. Let everyone see how this man affects me. Let them all know what’s been going on.
“No, Ellie,” I say with a smile. “That will not do.”
So I take a few moments to put myself back together, smooth my dress down with the palms of my hands, grab my clutch, and open my office door.
A round of applause echoes throughout the seventh floor and I feel my whole body go hot.
“Oh, shut up!” I say. But I’m smiling with satisfaction as I walk over to the elevator and press the call button. I guess I got my wish after all.
Mac is waiting for me at the bottom of the airstairs when I make it over to the tarmac. “I texted you, didn’t you get it?”
“I was in the train tunnel,” I say. “Sorry. Did I take too long?”
“Twenty-seven minutes, Miss Hatcher. You made it just in time.”
“Just in time?” I ask, having a hard time keeping my grin hidden from him as we turn towards the jet and walk up the stairs.
“Just in time to avoid the punishment if you were late.”
“Something tells me that might’ve been fun.”
“Test me next time, and find out. The reason I texted was because we have a change of plans. My… father called and says Brutus is expecting us at his house this afternoon.”
“Brutus? Why?” This can’t be good.
“Senior wants that interview and he says we fucked it up, so we have to fix it. So we’re on our way to Santa Fe to talk Brutus into it.”
“Oh, for the love of God. This will not be fun.”
“Well, sometimes we all have to do things that aren’t fun. Brutus specifically asked for you, so if he reams you a new one for trying to kill him last week, you need to be good.”
“Be good?” I sneer. “You ask like I’m some kind of ridiculous person!”
“Ellie,” Mac says with eyebrows up and a crooked smile. “Please. You and I both know the level of crazy you’re capable of. So just be good.” Mac repeats this in his bossy authoritative tone.
Which only gets my hackles up more. He’s known me a week and he thinks he understands my level of crazy. “Number one, Mac, I’m not ridiculous. I think we just agreed that you had no business inserting yourself into my fantasy life. Which is completely, one hundred percent healthy. It was harmless fun before you came along and tore my world apart.”
“Tore your world—? Ellie, come on. I came to work, you sent me messages. I didn’t do anything other than react. But anyway, we can talk all that out later—”
“Talk all what out later?” I’m genuinely confused. We just had makeup sex, right? What’s to talk about?
“Because Stonewall Senior has heard rumors about us.”
“No!” Aw, shit.
“Yes. He said he’s going to come into town to talk, so we need to be on our best behavior today and get this guy to agree to reschedule the interview.”
How could things go so wrong in twenty-seven minutes?