Please be in bed, please be in bed.

I open my apartment door to find my younger sister very much still awake. It’s one in the morning and I’m exhausted. If I had my way I’d go straight to sleep without even cleaning my teeth or getting undressed, however Samantha—

“Hey sis, how was work?”

—likes to talk. “It was fine. What are you doing up so late?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing. Surely it can’t take that long to clean a law office?”

“They were having a party. I stayed until the end to tidy up.”

“Lawyers having a party. I bet that was fifty shades of boring.”

“I wish it was,” I reply under my breath.

“Do I detect gossip?”

“You always detect gossip,” I reply. “Not everything needs to be made into a scandal.”

“But in this case…”

I sigh. “In this case, I walked in on a partner getting a blow job. Or he was about to anyway. Or maybe they’d just finished. I don’t know.”

“Holy shit. Guess I’m not giving lawyers enough credit.”

“Or too much,” I reply. I turn away from Samantha before she notices my cheeks blushing red. Before walking in on Damon, I spent twenty minutes fantasizing about him having his way with me. The look in his eyes… I’d been so sure he wanted me. I even went to the effort of not bending over in front of him to act ladylike. I needn’t have bothered. Clearly, I’m not his type. He was probably only staring at me like that to get me out of his office before his blonde bitch showed up.

I didn’t see much of her, but I know the type. She’s obvious: blonde hair, firm breasts, skinny, toned thighs, and slutty. She’s probably tall as well, although it was hard to tell with her on her knees. She’s everything I want to be, and everything I’m not.

John warned me that Damon was a player, but I didn’t want to believe him. Or maybe I did, I just wanted to think he’d choose to play with me. I’d have settled for being a bit of fun on the side. I’ve not had fun of any kind in a while.

“Kara? Wakey, wakey?”

“Huh?”

“You were daydreaming.”

“Sorry, I’m tired.” I force a yawn for effect.

“Uh huh. You were thinking about it weren’t you.”

I pour myself a glass of water to make sure she can’t see my face. “Thinking about what?”

“The blowie you walked in on. Was he big?”

Almost certainly. “I didn’t see anything like that. And I’d rather not think about it.”

“Fine. What was the name of the firm again?”

I give her the name and drink the water. It does nothing to cool me down. Is it hot in here? Samantha’s wearing a sweater, so I guess it’s just me.

“Is his name Damon?” Samantha asks, just when I think she’s gone quiet.

“Uh, yeah, I think that was it,” I pretend to remember, as if his name isn’t etched onto my memory. Damon Caldwell. Young Lawyer of the Year 2012, and sex on legs.

“Fuck, he’s hot.”

“How the hell…” I look over at Samantha’s laptop and see Damon’s law firm biography—complete with picture—on the screen. It’s only a headshot, but it’s impossible to deny that he’s good looking. Okay, better than good looking. He looks like someone who used to be a male model in his early twenties, except he’s now matured and looks even better for it.

“So this guy’s your boss?”

“Not really,” I reply. Samantha is entranced with the picture which at least means she can’t see me blushing. “His firm hired the cleaning company I work for.”

“He could boss me around any day he likes.”

I believe her. Samantha might be two years younger than me, but she’s far more confident when it comes to getting what she wants from men.

“It was inappropriate,” I say firmly. “He’s fucking one of his employees.”

“That just makes it hotter. I’m sure she was more than willing.” Samantha does some more searching online and comes up with some full body shots. “Wow. He’s packing.”

“He has a gun?” I ask, leaning in to stare at the pictures.

“Another type of powerful weapon.” She points at his crotch on a picture that appears to have been taken when he was a guest speaker at a corporate function.

There’s a definite bulge, I can’t deny that. Okay, he’s good looking and has a big cock; so what? He’s also an arrogant asshole who fucks his employees at the office party. He’s hardly a model citizen.

“He’s well endowed,” I admit. “He’s also a giant dick in the personality department from what I can tell. I plan to stay out of his way.”

“Fine,” Samantha says, holding up her hands. “I won’t say another word on the subject.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“No but. However, we’re going shopping tomorrow.”

“What for?”

“You need new clothes for work. That skirt is years old and the sweater has holes in it.”

“I’m a cleaner. I’m not going to wear nice clothes while I scrub a toilet.”

“You never know who you might bump into at work.”

Samantha closes her laptop and finally heads to bed. I stay up for another thirty minutes until I’m sure she’s asleep and enjoy ten minutes of ‘me time’ to relax before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

He’s in his office.

It’s 9 pm and the light is still on. If I stand very still by the door I can hear him fidget in his chair, shuffle papers on his desk, and type on his keyboard. He’s the only one in the entire office. It’s just me and him.

I could go in.

Cleaners can come and go as they please. No one notices us. I could knock on the door, walk into his office, and empty the trash without the two of us exchanging a single word.

Is that what I want? To be ignored?

Yes and no. It’s always nice to get attention from a man like Damon, but it’s obvious he’s not worth my time. He has a reputation for a reason. John warned me, and the little run in the other night really hammered it home.

I place my hand on the doorknob.

I’m just a cleaner. He doesn’t give a shit about me. I’m going to walk in there and he’s not going to so much as look at me.

And yet… and yet I can’t stop thinking about the alternative. He might look at me. He might stare at me as I walk around his office. He might command me to come over. He might reach out and touch me.

I let go of the doorknob.

Not today.