Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“Mm-hmm,” she hums, the vibration from her chest going straight to my cock. God, I want to kiss her. Taste her. Brand her.
A knock at the door snaps me out of my haze, and I straighten, stepping back.
“Good morning, Mr. Monroe.” Julie from HR pauses, realizing I’m not alone. “Oh, hello. I apologize. I didn’t know you were with someone. You must be the new assistant. I’m Julie Williams. I work in Human Resources. Compensation and benefits manager. But I also head MIC’s event planning committee.” She reaches out to shake Fay’s hand.
“Hi. Fay.” She sticks her hand out, knocking over my cup of coffee. “Oh, crud!” She jumps up, trying to salvage the reports. “God, I’m so sorry. Again.” Julie looks mortified while I hold in my smirk. She definitely should have been fired within seconds of walking into my office.
“It’s fine.”
Fay looks at me like I’ve grown horns. I pull my attention to Julie. “Ms. Williams, what can I do for you?”
“Yes. . . well, would it be more convenient if I came back later?”
“Now, Ms. Williams.”
“Of course. We have the employee awards ceremony next week. I’ve reserved the terrace. Staff will be receiving an invitation to join by this evening. It should be a wonderful company event.”
I hold back my groan. It will be anything but wonderful. “Tell me again why this has to be an event? Just send them emails and their mid-quarter bonuses.”
“It’s good to make time for your employees. Plus, they enjoy a nice evening away from their desks to socialize. It’s good for company morale.”
Or torture. “Fine, whatever. What do you need from me?”
“Oh, if I can go over the menu with you and get it approved. I feel really good about this one.” She smiles and looks over at Fay.
“Uh, yes. I should go reprint these reports.” She fumbles with the pile of wet tissues, dropping a few on the floor. When she reaches down to grab them, I glance at her ass, instantly regretting it when my dick springs to life. Great. Now, I get to hide a semi-boner while listening to finger-food options.
“Miss Evans,” I call out before she escapes.
She turns to me, her cheeks flushed. “Yeah?”
“We aren’t done here.”
Fay stares back at me with a questioning look. Good. She’s confused and caught off-guard. Am I flirting with her? Being the cold prick? I can’t even answer that question. “Oh, and another coffee.”
I focus back on Julie. “Now, show me your ideas.”
Chapter six
Fay
“Christ on a cracker.” I sigh, throwing myself into the bathroom stall. What the hell was that? I have to still be drunk. There is absolutely no way he just. . . I can’t even think it. It’s impossible. But if he wasn’t, then why did my body react like that? It was electrifying when his sleeve brushed my arm, and I swear I felt an actual spark when his skin touched mine.
I slap myself.
“Ow.”
Snap out of it. Sober up. No more drinking on weekdays. And since when did I become so clumsy? The last thing I need to do is think my hot, successful, not-in-the-market-for-a-hot-mess-like-myself boss is into me.
I flush the toilet and get out, a round of colorful words leaving my lips as I look in the mirror. Apparently, coffee and satin don’t vibe. “Dammit, and I just bought this,” I whine, taking a wet napkin and attempting to save the poor, underappreciated blouse. “This is why we can’t have nice things.”
Giving up, I prepare another cup of coffee for my boss. When I return, he’s thankfully on a call. I leave it on his desk and head to mine. Opening my email, I see a new one from Theo.
To: Fay_Evans@MIC.org
From: T_Monroe@MIC.org
Subject: Accessible
Miss Evans,
I will need your personal cell number to have access to you at all times.
Theo Monroe
CEO, Monroe Investment Corp
Access to me at all times? What does he think—?
“You look deep in thought.”
I blink and look up at Kyle, the guy from the copy room. “Yeah, I am. Debating how much I really need my job.”
He chuckles. “I don’t envy you, that’s for sure.”
“Seems to be the consensus around here. Did you need Mr. Monroe?”
“Um, no. I know to stay clear of him. A few of us are going to happy hour, and I wanted to invite you.”
Dammit, I love happy hour. I did just swear off drinking during the week, though. Then again. . . it’s karaoke. “You know what, yeah—”
“You’re working late.” Theo appears out of nowhere and dumps a set of reports on my desk.
I twist in my chair. “On what? I didn’t see anything on your—”
“Are you questioning me, Miss Evans? And you. Do I pay you to fraternize?”
Kyle shifts his eyes back and forth between us and waves—mission aborted. My jaw drops. What the hell? Scrunching my nose, I swivel my chair back to Theo. “That wasn’t very nice.”