Frank
There isn’t enough coffee in the world to fend off the exhaustion I’m battling this morning. Between the late night with Sarah on Wednesday and the brand-new series of elevator themed sex fantasies that kept me up last night, I’m a mess.
I can’t stop yawning.
I can’t focus.
I have zero interest in work.
I also doubt I’ll be able to step into an elevator again without imagining Sarah screaming my name in ecstasy. Heaven help me if I ever have to ride in one with her again. I won’t survive. Not after last night. All the blood in my body will flow straight to my dick and no one will ever know what happened.
I carry my newly filled coffee cup back to my desk and check my IMs. There are a few from Jason, a handful of work related questions from coworkers, and a request for a meeting from Brian Kent, the man whose name is on the sign above the door.
As in, McDougan & Kent.
As in, Brian is only one of the most revered men in this office.
As in, the one man other than my father whose opinion of me actually matters.
I swallow a hefty dose of scalding coffee and put the mug on my desk before I accept the request. I’ll have to rearrange a couple things in my afternoon, but so what. When Brian Kent asks you for a meeting, you do what needs to be done to accommodate him.
The day passes in a blur of caffeine, phone calls, and thoughts of Sarah. I can’t get that woman out of my head. Scratch that. I don’t want to get that woman out of my head. It was all I could do not to kiss her outside of Derby’s on Wednesday.
I wanted to dig my fingers into her hips, run a hand down her ass, smash my lips to hers, and drag her to my apartment.
I wanted her head thrown back on my pillow, her back arching in ecstasy as I drove myself inside her.
I wanted her nails scratching down my back, her screams waking my neighbors. I wanted to bite and slap and lick and suck until we collapsed in a sweaty heap on my bed.
And maybe, if she’d been any other woman, I would have done any of those things. But there’s something in Sarah’s eyes. Something in the way she looks at me. Something in the way I feel when I’m with her. I don’t want to rush this. I want to savor it. I want to savor her. She’s not the kind of woman you spend a night with only to disappear.
Sarah is…different.
My mind wanders around yesterday. The two of us stuck in the elevator, laughing, talking, learning each other. I would have kissed her then, if we hadn’t been interrupted by being rescued.
Talk about bad timing.
Or good timing.
I’m still not sure.
So much for getting work done today. There’s only one thing on my mind and it’s her. I sit back in my chair and pick up my phone, resting my feet on the edge of the desk, my legs crossed at the ankles. I have to see her tonight. I can’t keep feeling this way, wanting her and not having her. Do I invite her over to my place? Cook her dinner and then keep her hostage for the weekend? Finally stop fighting whatever this is between us and fuck her senseless?
“Mr. Wilde?”
I look up to find Trish Juniper, Brian Kent’s administrative assistant, poking her head through my office door.
I drop my feet to the ground and sit forward. “Hey, Trish. What’s up?”
“Mr. Kent has a free space in his schedule now and wondered if you had time to fit him in.”
“Of course.”
And by of course, what I mean is that I rearranged my schedule to fit him into my afternoon, so I actually have a great many things on my plate right now. But not only do I never say no to Mr. Kent, I’m also doing a terrible job of focusing on work.
“Great.” Trish smiles. “He’s in his office, if you’re ready.”
I slide my phone into my pocket, adjust my tie, and follow Trish through the maze of desks and offices that make up McDougal & Kent. She makes a few attempts at conversation, polite observations of the weather and a congratulations on my last project, a pain in the ass that ended up earning a platinum LEED certification. I smile, nod, and let her jabber away, turning her questions around so she’ll fill the space by talking about herself. We stop in front of Brian’s office and she flashes me a wide smile.
“It’s always nice talking with you, Mr. Wilde. Mr. Kent is waiting for you.” She gestures toward his door. I thank her and step into his office.
“Ahh. Frank.” Brian Kent stands and extends his arm over his desk, his cufflinks flashing in the recessed lighting.
I grip his hand. “Good morning, Brian.”
He releases my hand, smooths his jacket over his ample waistline, and then sits. “I’m going to get right to it,” he says, his jowls wiggling and wobbling as he speaks. He smiles, though his eyes look anything but friendly. They pin me to my chair, hard, cold, and judgmental. It’s not a look I’m used to seeing aimed my way.
“Of course,” I say, with a carefully neutral smile.
Brian leans back in his chair. “When Bree Marshall lodged her complaint about you, we listened, of course, but knowing the kind of man you are, we decided to transfer her, separate you two, and move on without taking any punitive action against you.”
I start to speak, but Brian holds up his hand.
“You aren’t the first man Ms. Marshall has accused of inappropriate behavior in the workplace. We’ve investigated in the past and have found very little information to corroborate her stories. So, again, looking at your stellar record and your upstanding behavior over the last several years, we believed Ms. Marshall to be in the wrong. However—” Mr. Kent lifts a furry eyebrow “—when Violet Dunham walked into this office at the beginning of the week and quit, naming you as the one and only reason, we had to question whether or not we made the right decision regarding Bree Marshall.”
I sit up to my full height. “I can assure you that nothing happened with Bree.”
Brian holds up his hand again while I choke back a hefty dose of righteous indignation.
“And now…” He presses his palms together and rests them under his chin with a long sigh. “Not two days after Ms. Dunham quits this firm because of a failed relationship with you, we receive a resume from a charming young woman. Beautiful. Witty. Obviously intelligent. We were excited to find such a wonderful replacement so quickly. However, at the very end of her interview, she mentioned your name.” He lifts his brow, sending a tremor of activity across the loose skin on his cheeks and neck.
Anxiety spins through me, but I’m not worried. This is when I’m at my best, when the pressure is on, when the deck is stacked against me.
Some people would crumble, but not me.
Not Frank Wilde.
I’m the lump of coal that becomes a diamond. When the going gets tough, I get tougher. I sit patiently, waiting for Brian to continue.
“And so,” he says, leaning forward. “That brings me to my first question. Are you romantically involved with Sarah Carmichael?”
I think of Sarah sitting across from me at Guard and Grace, the look in her eyes as she studied my face.
Of the two of us at Derby’s, the rush of energy jolting through my body when we touched.
The way her body reacted when I pressed my hand to her lower back.
The heat between us.
The almost kiss.
The tension as we sat side by side in that elevator.
The fantasies of her body writhing beneath mine that kept me up last night.
I smile. “Let me assure you, I am not involved with Sarah Carmichael, romantically or otherwise.”
“Then pray tell. If you’re not involved with this woman, how did you feel so inclined to tell her about the open receptionist position?”
“Sarah was in a car accident this week. I was on my way to the gym and this guy T-boned her right in front of me. I was right there, so I went to offer assistance, to make sure she and the other driver were okay. Later that night, she was at Derby’s while we were there for the weekly office get together. I stopped by to make sure she was okay. She mentioned needing a job, so naturally, I thought of her when I heard Violet was leaving.”
Brian narrows his eyes as if he can see right through the holes in my story. I sculpt my face into the essence of professionalism.
A light smile.
Direct eye contact.
Straight jaw.
“I want to offer this young woman a job, but I need you to hear me. You have used up all of our patience when it comes to you and office drama surrounding your female coworkers. Do you understand what I’m saying here?” He leans forward, his gaze hard and direct. “Sarah Carmichael is officially off limits for you.”