2 - Zach
I’ve been trying not to stare at her ever since I walked in. Harper Anderson is my employee, after all. I can’t help it that there’s something about her that intrigues me. Maybe it’s the way she doesn’t seem to care who I am? Usually employees, especially women, are nervous and flustered when they see me. She’s all business, all the time. Nothing seems to phase her.
I glance over at her as she talks to another woman beside the massive fake Christmas tree that dominates the room. She marched into my office six weeks ago and insisted on ordering that huge tree, standing in front of me with a graph she’d prepared that showed Christmas cheer increasing exponentially with every extra foot of tree that we ordered. Her face had been so serious, and she’d presented her carefully prepared graphs and figures as if it was the quarterly review.
I had no choice, I had to say yes. Harper had me totally off-balance and I hadn’t even been able to laugh at the ridiculousness and thoroughness of her proposal. But as soon as I said yes I’d seen a twinkle in her eye and I knew there was something different about her. It’s not often that people surprise me like that.
She’s good at what she does, and that’s what matters. It doesn’t matter that my cock starts to twitch whenever I think about her, or that I can’t seem to get her out of my head for days every time I visit the office.
“… the Jackson file will be ready for your signature by Monday morning, and.. Zach? Are you listening?”
I’m pulled from my thoughts and turn towards my Editor in Chief and best friend. I put a hand on his shoulder and look him in the eye.
“Mitch. It’s the Christmas party. No more work talk.”
“Alright, alright,” he says, throwing his hands up. “You want a drink?” he asks, motioning towards the snack table.
I nod as I glance at the full spread of food and drink on the table. Harper’s done a good job this year, once again. There’s every imaginable snack and appetiser and drink that anyone could ever want. The woman knows how to throw a party.
Mitch starts walking towards the drinks. “You got any plans this weekend?”
“I was thinking of checking out that new club downtown tomorrow night, you in? There’s a potential client there with a VIP booth.”
Mitch grins. “VIP booth means girls girls girls. I’m in.”
I nod. He’s right, there will be women. There always are, at these things. It’s part of the job, really. Our brand is what sells advertisements - luxury, excess, riches, women, everything that’s good in the world. Everything that’s good in my life. I see people my age settling down and having kids and all I can think is why?! Why would you want that? Why would you want to be tied to one person for the rest of your life?
“What happened with that model you were seeing? I thought you’d be here with her,” Mitch asks as we get to the table. There are dozens of tiny wine glasses lined up in front of us.
“Didn’t work out,” I reply. It never does. I never let it, women just want to use me for my money and status, so I use them right back.
“Tomorrow is a new night,” Mitch says as he hands me a glass of wine.
“Tonight is a new night,” I correct with a grin. He chuckles and nods before taking a sip. I drink with him but something is off. I don’t quite believe myself when I say these things tonight. Why would I care about models and actresses and all these beautiful women that only want me for what I can buy for them, or who I can introduce them to? Maybe the people settling down have found something I haven’t.
Probably not. I grab a glass of wine off the table.
“Merry Christmas,” I say to Mitch.
“Merry Christmas, buddy. To every night being a new night, and every girl being a new girl!”
I force a chuckle and touch my glass to his. I steal another glance over towards Harper. She’s laughing at something. I can see her cheeks flushing from over here. I can’t quite make out her freckles, but if I get a little bit closer I’m sure I could see them scattered over her cheeks and nose. She’s completely dwarfed standing next to that ridiculous tree. She’s wearing an atrocious red sweater with lights on it, pointing to the decorations with the woman next to her. I have no idea how, but somehow she makes it look sexy.
She’s smiling at her friend and the two of them laugh about something. Her sweater is flashing and I almost let myself grin as I look at her. Just as Mitch and I start walking away from the drinks she turns her head and our eyes meet from across the room.
It only lasts a second before she looks away but something stirs inside me. Those green eyes of hers are like beams of light that pierce right through me. I could see that twinkle in her eye from all the way over here and I can’t help but wonder what she’s laughing about.
I need to get closer to her tonight, to have an actual conversation with her. I’m not going to settle for the same business talk and cold mask that she puts on. I want to know the real Harper Anderson.