“I knoooow, but I was lonely. And even though he’s an asshole, the dick is… okay.”
I shake my head and swallow down my bite of donut. “It’s just familiar dick; that’s why it seems okay. Okay dick isn’t worth feeling like shit after; that’s only reserved for spectacular, firework, life-changing, back-breaking dick. The kind that leaves your head swimming for days.”
She raises a curious eyebrow at me. “Are you experiencing this kind of dick or something?”
“No.” I quickly shake my head but I can feel myself blushing. Shit.
“Spill,” she demands, placing both hands on the table and leaning forward.
“There’s nothing to spill.”
“Is it him? Bruce Wayne?”
I wave my hand like her suggestion is insane and stuff an entire half of a donut into my mouth just to avoid answering.
“Oh my God. I was kidding, but it is, isn’t it? You’re sleeping with your boss?” Her hand darts to cover her mouth and she gasps loudly like I just told her I know where a body is buried.
“Calm down.” I reach over and pull her hand from her mouth. “First of all, no, I am not sleeping with him, and second, that was a bit of an overreaction.” I take a sip of my coffee. “But—”
“Oh my God, there’s a but!” I give her another look that says calm the hell down because people are staring and she looks around before letting out a long breath. “Sorry, carry on.”
“Okay, so he’s very intimidating and moody, pretty sullen. Honestly, most of the time, it feels like he’s annoyed with me. I’m either screwing up by adopting a kitten or—”
“What?”
I shake my head. “Story for another time. Or it feels like he’s annoyed with the amount of questions I ask him regarding Eleanor, his daughter, or when I try to make small talk. I have caught him looking at me before.”
“Looking as in?”
“Like I’m an actual human, a woman. A little lingering side-eye action.”
“Ohhh,” she squeals.
“So anyway, the other night I couldn’t sleep so I went to get a snack in the pantry and he had the same idea I guess because he scared me, and then he put his hand over my mouth to stop me from screaming and then—” I raise my hands for emphasis. “He put his hand on my throat and lifted up the edge of my shirt, revealing my underwear.”
Shelly’s mouth drops open.
“But here’s where it gets good. He said to me, and I quote”—I lean forward, whispering the words for emphasis—“The things I would do to you.”
“The things I would do to you?” Shelly flings herself back in her chair like she’s fainting. “Holy shit, that is hot. That’s the kind of hot where he doesn’t even need to elaborate. He’s that confident of an alpha. Oh my God, I need a minute.” She fans her face dramatically as I laugh.
“There’s more… Last night I called him daddy, not in a sexual way. I was referring to his daughter calling for him, and he threatened to punish me if I said it again.”
Shelly’s jaw is glued to the floor at this point.
“I’m not sure what he meant by that.”
“What he meant by that was he wants to spank you or do some Fifty Shades shit to you! Holy shit, woman. You are living out all of our fantasies right now. Working for a brooding billionaire that wants you so bad he’s losing grip?”
I can’t help but laugh at how dramatic she’s being, but I also wonder if she’s right. Is that why he seems frustrated with me half the time?
“Doesn’t matter though. I’ve decided it’s just a fun little flirty fantasy and nothing more.”
“You’re kidding me, right? Hold up. Let me see a picture of this guy.”
I grab my phone and Google his name, pulling up an image of him from the company website, then I hand it to her.
“Goddamn! You’re insane. Like actually certifiable, if you say no to this man.” She whistles before clicking through several more photos of him. “Oh, come to mama.”
I reach out and grab the phone from her, an image of him shirtless on a yacht taking up the entire screen. I let my eyes linger.
Maybe she is right. I’d be crazy to pass up on an opportunity for one night with him, right?
“Did I mention he was shirtless in the pantry and had on very thin pajama bottoms?”
“And?”
“Anaconda, possibly a python.”
We both howl with laughter as she pretends to wrangle an imaginary snake.
“How’s the coffee shop job going?”
“Same.” She shrugs. “Terry wanted to make me the manager, but eh, I don’t want the responsibility.”
“Shell, that’s great. Why not take it? I’m sure it’s a lot more money.”
“Because I’ll get comfortable. I’ve been looking at different art programs, thinking I’ll go back and finish my bachelor’s. Is it crazy to think I might want to be a teacher?”
“Uh, hello, I’m a teacher! I think that’s amazing! Speaking of teachers, I wanted to ask you if you’d be interested in my teacher friend Hank? He’s the phys ed teacher where I used to teach. He’s tall, athletic, super cute, and charming.”
She eyes me suspiciously. “And why haven’t you dated him?”
“We’re just friends, never had that kind of interest or spark. Besides, I don’t think he’s really my type.”
“Your type meaning cute, charming, and tall?”
“Uh, more like not my type because he’s my age.” I laugh. I’ve always had a thing for older men and clearly, my current crush on Mr. Hayes just reiterates that.
“I dunno, Margot.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “I’m not looking for anything serious.”
“Well, I have no idea if he is either. I haven’t said anything to him, but I know that he’s fun and super outgoing. Might just be a fun friend or f-buddy or something. Plus, he could take your mind off Karter.”
I grab my phone again and pull up his Instagram account before handing it to her. “Here, check him out.”
She mulls it over, running her finger around the rim of her water glass as she scrolls through a few photos. “What the hell; it can’t hurt.”
I spend the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon with Shelly. We window shop, walk through the city, and end up having an early dinner at my favorite bistro that I used to live near.
“Oh, while we’re over here, I need to stop in at my old apartment and pay the landlord. Since I’m not breaking my lease, I’m just going to have to suck it up and pay the rent for the next five months.”
We get to the building and I duck inside. “Hi, Mr. Zelenski. I’m just stopping by to pay rent.” I reach into my purse and pull out my wallet.
“Already paid but I’ll be happy to accept it twice,” he says, laughing heartily.
“Already paid? I don’t understand.”
“Dunno.” He shrugs. “Some hotshot guy called and paid it all off.”
I’m confused. “Oh, okay.” I turn to leave, but then ask, “Did he say who he was?”