Cole
She stares at me for a beat of silence, then folds her arms over her chest and says acidly, “No. I’m sure you’re familiar with the word, because you say it so often.”
I don’t know why I was expecting this to be easy.
“You’re referring to the memo.”
“Yes, I’m referring to the memo. You remember the one with the giant black letters scrawled right over my polite request to see you?”
“I was having a bad day.”
“I’ve had nine of them since then.”
“So have I… Wait, you’ve been unhappy too?”
I can tell she’s annoyed with herself for admitting that, because she tosses her hair over her shoulder and adopts a bored attitude. “I’ve been great.”
I step closer to her, dying to feel her lips under mine. “Great, huh?”
“Amazing, actually.”
“Hmm.”
“I’m not joking.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“Your face is saying it for you.”
“Shay?”
“Yes, Mr. McCord?”
I keep my voice gentle and look straight into her eyes. “I’m sorry I was so abrupt on the memo. I’m sorry I haven’t contacted you. I haven’t been able to get you off my mind, and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it. All I know is that I saw you standing there when the elevator doors opened, and I wanted to touch you so badly, I started to salivate.”
She studies me for a moment, then starts to laugh.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because it’s ridiculous how easy it is for you to dazzle me.”
“I dazzle you?”
She stops laughing and says crossly, “Oh, don’t look so pleased with yourself. You know you do. And no, we’re not having a sleepover. I told you I didn’t want to be a bootie call.”
I never thought having someone say no to me could be so adorable.
“Okay. I guess I’ll be forced to keep doing this for the foreseeable future.” I withdraw her panties from where they lie folded neatly inside the pocket of my suit jacket. Holding them to my nose, I inhale deeply, savoring the delicious scent of her cunt.
Her face turns scarlet. “You brought them to work?”
“I told you they’d go everywhere with me.”
“I thought you were exaggerating.”
“I needed to keep you with me.”
“What you need is therapy.”
“What I need is you.”
We stare at each other until an alarm sounds. It’s the elevator, complaining about being stuck between floors.
“Time’s up, Mr. McCord.”
“Let me come over tonight.”
“No.”
“We don’t have to do anything. We can just talk.”
“No.”
Frustrated with her stubborn refusal to give me what I want, I scowl at her.
Which, naturally, makes her laugh.
She turns and presses the Stop button, setting the elevator in motion again. Turning back to me, she says, “Don’t forget, Mr. McCord, there’s a company policy against fraternizing between employees. I know, because you specifically told me the first day I started.”
The elevator doors open. She turns and steps out onto the landing. She’s about to walk away from me without another word, so I do the only thing I can think of to make her reconsider.
“How’s your mother?”
She freezes in place. Then she spins around and stares at me with wide eyes and parted lips, the color draining from her face.
We’re still staring at each other as the doors slide shut.
Shay
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t do anything but stare at the closed elevator doors as my pulse burns like wildfire under my skin.
I recall the murderous expression Cole wore the night of our dinner date when I told him my mother’s boyfriend beat her up. I recall his scraped knuckles and blood-stained shirt the morning I woke with no memory at my apartment when he told me about Dylan. And I recall his eerie calm and splattered briefcase the night he wandered into his kitchen after leaving me alone to “work.”
Goose bumps form all over my body.
It was him. He’s the reason Bob left.
Disappeared, more accurately, probably into a deep hole dug in the desert sand.
Holy shit. I’m in love with Tony Soprano.
“Hello, Shay.”
With a strangled scream, I jump and spin toward the voice. Simone stands there, smiling at me.
“Are you just breaking for lunch now? It’s a bit late in the afternoon. I hope we haven’t been working you too hard. How’s the 401（k） audit coming?’