Lesley

 

 

The moment Gillian sees me walk up to her desk, she starts to protest, standing up from her chair like she’s got something to say about me being here.

“I’ve signed the contract,” I say, showing it to her.

Right before she snatches it, I pull back and tuck it in my bag. I’m not letting her get her greedy hands on it. Before you know it, she’ll have shredded the papers. No way will I let that happen after all the effort I put into landing this job.

“He hired you?”

“That’s a surprise?” I muse, raising a brow.

“No … but he sent you away.”

“And then he sent me the contract by email,” I reply. “I just wanted you to tell him that I’m here. You know, so I don’t have to barge into his office again.” I give her my familiar bitchy smile, which makes her squint.

She doesn’t reply. Instead, she sits down with a sour pout on her face as she types away on her keyboard as a keyboard warrior would. I snigger to myself as I watch her rage silently.

“Your appointment is in five minutes from now. You can sit down there,” she says, pointing at a couch in the corner. “Mr. Morrows will come and get you when he’s ready.”

“Thanks,” I say, turning and strutting away.

I sit down and almost drown in the super soft couch, struggling to sit upright. Gillian watches me from her corner, judging me with an evil smirk on her face as if she deliberately made me go here just to see me fall for the trap.

Damn her.

It won’t let this imaginary fight get to me, though. This is just a pissing contest, and I’m too much of an adult to participate. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

I don’t know why she doesn’t like me. Maybe she’s jealous and wants my job. Or maybe she likes TJ a little too much, and she’s protective of him. Or maybe my imagination is running loose again.

I should stop filling things in for people. Whatever is going on with her has nothing to do with me.

A door suddenly opens, and handsome TJ steps out into the hallway, greeting me with that heartthrob smile that I still can’t handle.

“Lesley, come in,” he says, holding his door open.

I pat down my soft orange dress and run my fingers through my hair to make myself look presentable again before I get up and walk toward him.

We shake hands. “So glad you decided to come.”

Come.

Why do I imagine the most inappropriate, scandalous sex when he says that word?

It’s not a dirty word, yet my mind can’t help but go there.

I clear my throat and walk past him into the office, sitting down on the same chair while he closes the door and pushes a button to rolls down the blinds. I frown.

“Yeah, sorry. My employees have a habit of snooping.”

I giggle. “Why is that not surprising?”

“I guess we like things a little out of the ordinary here.”

“I can tell,” I muse, crossing my legs as he sits down behind his desk and settles in. “So… you decided you wanted me after all?”

His eyes suddenly meet mine, and he stammers, “What?”

“You sent me the contract,” I say.

“Oh … right.” He smiles.

“What, did you forget or something? If it was a mistake, I could go again; it’s no problem.” I’m tempted to see how far he’d go now, seeing as he made me leave last time. It’d be nice to watch him beg. Oh, yes. That would definitely do the trick.

I mean, I could still walk out of here and leave him high and dry. His loss, not mine. Maybe I should make him suffer for making me suffer. Or is that taking things a little too far?

Perhaps. But I like being the conniving bitch every once in a while.

“Well, let’s get down to business,” he says, clearing his throat. “I’m glad you decided to accept my offer.”

“Except you said you didn’t want me at first. Why the change of heart?” Honestly, at this point, I don’t really care if this sassy remark means he’ll kick me out again. I want him to feel it the way I felt it.

“Uh, yeah …” He adjusts his tie. “I was rash and indecisive, and I’m sorry about that.” He folds his hands on the table. “But I’d love to give you a chance.”

“A chance, huh?” I cock my head. “Well, all right.”

He smiles. “I was almost worried you’d say no and walk out of here.”

“It did cross my mind,” I reply, smiling back and watching as his smile slides off his face.

“You don’t want the job?” he says, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh, I do.”

“Great.” He grins and closes his jacket then grabs a pen. “Got the contract for me?”

For a moment, I’m flabbergasted. I can’t believe he just stepped over it like that. Determined to just ignore my annoyance with how this went. Maybe he thinks I’m easy. Or maybe he’s right because I do honestly want this job and I never really planned on walking out of here without securing it. Did he see through my bluff all along?

Damn him.

I rummage in my bag and take out the papers, placing them on the table. Without looking, I slide the papers forward while closing my bag, which is when I feel his fingers against mine. An electrical current flows through my hands, and I pull back immediately, feeling the heat rise in my body from the shock that I actually touched him.

Stop it, Lesley. You can’t feel that for him. He’s going to be your damn boss, and you’re going to be the best employee he’s ever had, so act like it.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, licking his lips as eyes hidden under thick lashes meet mine. Just for a moment, he’s captured my attention … and then he lets it go by focusing on the contract in front of him. He flips through the pages. “Signed it?”

“Yup,” I reply, trying to calm my nerves.

“All right. Before I make this final, can I ask you one more thing?”

“Sure. What do you want to know?”

His gaze narrows. “Can I … trust you?”

My lips part, but I hesitate. I don’t know how to answer. What kind of question is that? Who asks that? And why?

Still, there’s only one correct answer if I want to get this job. “Of course.”

He nods. “Great. I’ll take your word for it.”

While he signs the contract, I quickly pull out my phone and text my mom.

 

 

Me: Finally got it! Morrows it is. Gonna be an intern.

Mom: Wow! Congratulations, honey! Can’t wait to hear how it goes.

Me: Thanks! Will talk more later. xx

 

 

When he stops writing, I quickly tuck the phone away again. He pulls one of the copies of the contract out and hands it back to me. “This is yours; I’ll keep the rest.” He holds out his hand, and I shake it. “Welcome to the firm.”

“Thanks,” I reply, trying not to feel overwhelmed by his hand touching mine.

“So …” He leans back in his chair. “I’m curious. How come you never asked what it is that we do?”

“I don’t know. I just …”

Shit, he saw right through me.

Maybe I should’ve done my research when I still had the chance.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“It’s okay. I knew it the moment you walked in here during your interview,” he muses, the left side of his lip quirking up into a smile. “You apply to a bunch of companies and try to snag the first one that talks to you.”

I rub my lips together, feeling the heat.

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to pull the rug out from underneath you.” He chuckles. “I already hired you, even when I knew all this.”

“Is that why you sent me away?” I ask.

“No.” He takes a short breath. “That was about something else. Look, the point is, it doesn’t matter to me. You convinced me you’re perfect for the job with just your attitude alone.”

The compliment makes me glow, but I don’t know why. I normally never care that much about what other people think about me. But with him, it’s different. I feel like I constantly need to impress him.

“Thank you. I appreciate the chance,” I say. “I won’t let you down.”

He nods. “Great, because you can bet I’m going to hold you to that.” We both laugh a little. He tucks away the papers and gets up from his chair. “Now that the official part is over, I can finally introduce you to your new partner.” I follow his lead as he walks to the door.

“Partner?”

“Yeah.” We go through the hallway and into the elevator. “Tell me, Lesley, what do you think we do here at Morrows?”

“Uh …” The doors close and he presses a button, letting me suffer in silence while I try to think of an answer. “You sell products?”

The right side of his lips tip up briefly, and he places his hand on the wall beside me. “Good guess.”

I can’t stop staring at his smoldering eyes. And the way he stares back at me makes me feel like he knew this was coming. Like he’s been waiting for me all along. But that doesn’t make any sense.

“What do you think we sell?”

“Um … I don’t know … newspapers? Stock market shares? Hygienic products?” With each guess, he leans in just a tiny inch, but it’s noticeable to me. I’m not sure I mind, but it sure is getting hot in here. Or maybe that’s just me.

And Jesus Christ that cologne he’s wearing … It’s intoxicating.

“Office supplies? Food?” I continue, but he still doesn’t say yes.

The elevator door opens, and he saunters out alone. The sudden absence of his presence makes it feel like I’m choking on the empty air. It takes me a few seconds to compose myself.

“Are you coming?” he asks, playfully raising his brows at me.

“Yeah, sorry.” I huff, running my fingers through my hair. “I hate small spaces.”

It’s not a lie; I do hate small spaces … but not when I can share them with him.

Jesus, you horny bitch, stop chasing the impossible. He’s your boss now. Act like a good employee.

“Odd,” he says, shrugging, and he turns around to start walking again.

I quickly follow behind him. “What’s odd?”

He glances at me. “Never pegged you to be claustrophobic.”

“Pfft … nah, I’m not claustrophobic. I just don’t like elevators. That’s all.” I laugh it off a little, but it’s not working because he’s not laughing with me.

“I like narrow spaces. Gives my mind the opportunity to focus,” he says, pointing at his temple.

I snigger to myself.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I lie.

“Are you being sassy, Miss Fischer?” he asks, cocking his head at me.

“No, of course not. What do you take me for, Mr. Morrows?” I retort.

“Call me TJ. And I get the feeling you’re going to be a handful of sass.”

“Me? Never,” I joke.

“Too bad,” he says. “I like sassy.”

His words make me fall silent for a moment. Was he flirting with me just now, or am I just imagining it?

“Helps keep me sharp,” he adds, bursting my epic office romance fantasy bubble.

“Right,” I say. “I can do that … TJ.”

We continue to walk until we reach a door, at which point TJ stops and says, “Now, I hope you don’t scare easily.”

“Why? What’s behind that door?”

I try to peek in, but he won’t let me.

“The products we create are for a very specific customer.”

“We’re not working for criminals, are we?” I raise a brow.

“No.” He laughs out loud. “We make toys.”

“Toys? What’s scary about that?”

“Nothing, but sometimes they are.”

He opens the door farther, and when I step forward and look inside, my bag drops to the floor and my jaw goes along with it.

He places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes softly. “You never asked what we do here, so now you know. The division you’re going to work for makes dog toys.”

I stare ahead at the room full of fluffy … cuddly … chewing … barking … dogs.

“And to make sure we’re the best of the best, all our employees have their own personal doggy assistant.”