Bradley
6 Days Later
“Don’t say that again,” Brad said, his temper getting the best of him. “That was not a sexist comment. It was just a suggestion!”
“Just a suggestion?” Rachel repeated, her body shaking. “You want me to make her breasts bigger!”
It was late Friday night. The rest of the staff was gone, and Bradley and Rachel had stayed behind to finish the first rough draft of Rachel’s catalogue idea. He’d had a long day, and even longer week. Being Vice President was hard enough to do, let alone still be a department head. Some nights he wasn’t getting home until ten or eleven o’ clock, then getting up at five-thirty to do it all over again.
For the most part, he and Rachel had been getting along. She was open with his ideas and wasn’t being sensitive with him critiquing hers. As a matter of fact, if they wouldn’t have gotten into the argument they were now in four hours ago, they could both be home by now. Whether it was long week or the thirst to pick a fight, Rachel took his comment about her female figure and ran with it completely in the wrong direction.
“Rachel, I said nothing about her breasts,” he pressed. “All I said was that maybe we should make her a little more feminine in the dress, that’s all.”
“Oh, so a smaller woman can’t look good in a dress?” She fired back.
“That’s not what I’m saying at all!” He exclaimed, his voice rising.
“Then what are you saying?” Rachel shouted back.
“I don’t remember!”
Brad fell back into his chair, exhausted. He couldn’t remember his point at all. What had it been? Unable to help himself, he felt a joker like smile spread across his face and he began to laugh. Softly at first, and then with his entire body.
Beside him, Rachel looked at him as if he’d gone insane. “What’s so funny?” She asked, balling up her fists and planting them on her hips.
Brad laughed even harder, and leaned back into his chair. “Everything! Especially when you’re this tired.”
Rachel’s tough facial expression slowly slid off her face. “Have you been sleeping?” She asked, genuinely concerned.
Brad’s laughter subsided, and he nodded. “Whenever I can get it,” he answered honestly. He got up, walked over to his coffee machine, and started getting another pot of coffee ready. “Want some?” He asked, turning to face her.
Rachel nodded her head, her anger nearly gone now. “Yeah, but here. Let me do it. You sit down.” She took the can of coffee grounds from him and the measuring spoon, and began to scoop them out.
Behind her, Brad didn’t sit down. Instead, he looked down at the woman who could switch moods at the drop of a hat. When she was angry, boy look out! But when she was calm, she had a serene, almost motherly nature to her.
She had worn her hair down today, as she usually did. But to move it off of her neck she had pulled it over her left shoulder, exposing the nape of her neck. Her shirt was interesting, he thought to himself, studying the cut. It dipped into a V in both the front and back, stopping just before anything like cleavage of a bra strap could be seen. It was elegant, and the color of cerulean blue. Up close, he could see the silkiness of her curls, and had the strongest urge to reach out and feel one with the tips of his fingertips.
“Rachel, I…” he whispered, extending his hand. His hand came down gently on her shoulder, his thumb brushing over the smooth skin the nape of her neck. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
Rachel turned around, her brown eyes looking up into his blue ones. The movement made his hand slip away and he realized that he immediately missed the warmth of her skin. She looked up at him with an imploring gaze, waiting for him to continue. Brad’s tongue darted out between his lips before he spoke, and he watched in satisfaction as Rachel’s gaze followed the motion.
“Your drawings are incredible. Truly, they are. If I didn’t think so I wouldn’t have asked you to stay on.”
“Really?” She asked, her voice soft. Brad fought the urge to close his eyes as her gentle tone rubbed over his ears. Such a lovely voice, he thought. He wondered how amazing it would be to have her talk in that tone all the time.
“Yes,” he rasped, stepping closer. Unable to help himself, he reached out, and placed his hands on her hips. He could feel her small curves there, the warmth of her skin, even through the fabric. Brad was absolutely sure that if he drew the shirt up and over her head, he would feel the silkiest skin he’d ever felt in his life.
He should stop. He knew he should. He was her boss after all, and it was just unprofessional to start a romance in the workplace. But those eyes. Those beautiful, big brown eyes were looking up at him almost longingly, and her lips, a perfect cupid’s bow, were parted slightly as if in invitation.
“Rachel, I…”
She stepped into his arms before he could think of what else to say. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he drew her into his chest immediately. Their lips came together in a forbidden kiss, coming together and separating with great fervor as they tasted one another for the first time.
A small moan poured from Rachel’s throat as Brad held her close, and he tightened his arms even further around her. She felt warm and soft in his arms, and he could feel his muscles bulging from the temptation to hold her even closer. Her lips were soft and warm, and tasted slightly of cinnamon. He wasn’t sure who pulled away or when, but suddenly they were standing a foot apart, panting for breath.
“What was that?” Rachel asked. Her hand went up to push the curls out of her face and he could see that she was trembling. Through the fabric of her loose shirt, he could even see her taut nipples, and he immediately wondered if she was even wearing a bra.
“I don’t know,” he confessed, leaning back onto his desk. “But I want to do it again.”
Rachel opened her mouth, closed it, and opened again, as if she wasn’t sure what to say. She looked like she was in turmoil, and Brad suddenly wondered if he had made a horrible mistake. He stood completely still, waiting for her to react. It was the longest minute of his life. What she said next didn’t make him feel any better either.
“I should go.” The words came out breathless, and in a rush. That beautiful blush of hers had colored her cheeks pink yet again, and she looked positively embarrassed.
“Go?” Brad asked, confused. “After that? You just want to leave?”
Rachel nodded her head, looking distraught. She abruptly turned and walked into her office for a brief second to grab her jacket and purse, then proceeded to walk by Brad as if he wasn’t even there.
“Wait, where are you going?” Brad asked, following her.
“Home,” she called over her shoulder, not stopping to try for the elevator. The stairs would do just fine.
“Did I do something wrong?” Brad asked, taking the steps right behind her. “Is it not what you wanted? Please, Rachel, tell me. It’s okay if I was wrong, I don’t want to force you into anything.”
“It’s not that,” Rachel said, still taking the stairs down until she found the outside exit door in the stairwell.
Brad remembered that the key cards to get back in to the office were upstairs in his jacket pocket. If he stepped outside now, he wouldn’t be able to get into his car or take any of his stuff home. Reaching out, he grabbed Rachel’s wrist loosely and stopped her. To his relief, she stopped, and didn’t pull away from him.
“Please,” he implored. “Talk to me.”
Rachel looked positively conflicted, and Brad knew that there were a thousand thoughts racing around in her brain; she just had to pick the right one.
“I like you,” she said at last, looking ashamed at her confession. “But you’re my boss.”
She pulled her hand away from his and pushed the door open, disappearing into the dark street. Brad stayed there for a moment, watching her go. He wanted to go after her. To apologize. To do anything. For a second he contemplated going out after her anyway. So what if he had to take a taxi home? But then he remembered that the office wasn’t locked up yet, and all the lights were on. Sighing, he stepped away from the exit door and made his way up the stairs.