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Pretty Little Thing: A Rich Bitches Novel by Kiss, Tabatha (14)

Fourteen

Nora

We can’t keep separating like this.

If I have to rush away and rub one off after every run-in with Clive Snow, then I’m going to become like one of Pavlov’s pooches.

Just one glance at him in the office triggers my sex. My pussy salivates for him like a fucking dog and I can’t do anything about it because this is work and he’s my damn employee.

“Knock-knock, whore.”

I turn my head up to find Trix in the doorway to my office. “Hey,” I say, smiling and genuinely happy for the distraction. “What’s up?”

“Oh, I’m just...” she frowns, hiding.”

“From whom?”

“Who,” she falsely corrects on purpose. Trix has never been a fan of my uptight grammar rules. “Marcus,” she sneers.

“Uh-oh.” I laugh.

She raises a paper bag. “Sushi?”

I drop my pen on the desk, officially starting my lunch break. “Oh, that sounds amazing. Gimme!”

Trix walks in and plops into a chair by my desk. She tears the bag from the top down, shredding it to get at the three to-go containers inside. “We have a Philadelphia, a crunchy roll, and tuna sashimi. Go nuts.”

My stomach growls. “You are my hero today, Trix.”

“I know,” she gloats.

I yank apart of a pair of chopsticks. “So, what’s up with Marcus?” I ask, pinching a piece of tuna.

She sighs as she peels the lid off a small cup of soy sauce. “I think my dad might have told him to watch over me,” she says.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I found him parked on my street this morning.”

I pause mid-chew. “How long was he there?”

“God. All night, maybe? I sure hope not but I can’t be sure.”

“Has your family received some kind of threat they haven’t told you about?” I ask.

She shrugs. “It’s possible. Honestly, I think it’s more probable that Marcus is just being weird and possessive.”

I pause. “Well, that’s… something some guys do sometimes.”

“I guess.”

“Did you ask him?”

“No. I left out the back entrance so he wouldn’t see me leave.” She chuckles as she dunks her roll into the soy sauce. “He’s probably still there right now.”

“Naughty,” I tease.

“I’ll talk to him later. Never needed a personal bodyguard before. Don’t particularly want one now…”

My desk phone rings and I lay my sticks down. “Hold that thought.” I swallow my mouthful of deliciousness before picking up the phone. “Nora Payne,” I answer.

“Friend of yours?”

I shift in my chair as warmth rushes between my thighs. “Yes,” I answer, playing cool.

“Does she know?”

I lick the flavor off my lips. “Know what?”

“Where you spend your nights now.”

I glance over Trix’s down-turned head, trying to find Clive, but I can’t see him. “No,” I say.

“Do any of your friends know?”

“Not yet.”

He lets out that soft laugh. “Come to the club again tonight. Eight o’clock. I have something for you.”

My body aches with anticipation. “Sounds good,” I say. “Let me know how it goes.”

“Bye, Ms. Payne.”

“Bye.”

I drop the phone back onto its cradle, looking up to try and catch Clive again but the angle is nowhere near his desk block.

“Anyway,” Trix says with a thick sigh, “what are you wearing to Mel’s thing tonight?”

I blink. “Thing? What thing?”

“Her book signing,” she says. “We talked about it at brunch this week. And the week before that. And the week before that. I think. Not gonna lie, that one’s a bit fuzzy…”

“Shit,” I breathe.

“Did you forget?”

“No, I didn’t forget. Just slipped my mind, I guess.”

“I was thinking we could coordinate something and go as her cheerleaders,” she says. “It sounds like this book is getting just as ripped apart in reviews as the last one. She’ll need some tender loving care afterward, I bet.”

“Absolutely. We’ll do whatever she wants.” I twinge with sympathy. “Poor thing. Wonder why she’s struggling all of a sudden.”

“Oh, come on.” She tilts her head. “We both know why.”

I shrug and shove another roll into my mouth.