“Asshole,” I say.
“You can try to fight me, but I got you,” he says and takes a step back. His hands fall from my neck and hip. As he backs away, he licks his lips and looks me up and down. I push off the door to the janitor’s closet and follow him out into the open office. He grabs his helmet from my desk and turns to leave. Still in a daze, I turn at the wrong time, and his hand slams down against my backside.
My eyes are so big, and my skin from head to toe darkens to a crimson red that feels uncomfortably hot. I barely get my head turned in time to see him open the side door and disappear.
Margot’s eyes are intently focused on the paper in front of her, but it’s obvious that she’s about to die from shock and curiosity, perhaps both.
I plop into my seat and try to ignore the subtle stinging of both my ego and flesh at the fact that I was spanked. At work. In front of my boss. By an outlaw biker.
Chapter 11
I LOOK DOWN at my store-bought, pre-made salad with disdain. It’s one of those salads that looks yummy enough in the store, but when you start eating it, you realize why it was so cheap. I guess that’s what I get for buying a pre-made drugstore food product. The lettuce has been shredded, and the cheese tastes waxy. And to boot, I made the mistake of checking out the expiration date and realizing that today’s the last day for recommended freshness. Call me crazy, but ever since I saw that, I’m basically convinced that my lunch is going to kill me. After what just happened, I might be okay with that.
“This is ridiculous,” Margot says from her desk. She recovered from her shock a few minutes ago when she started humming themes songs from television shows interchangeably. She swivels around and drags herself over. She places her elbows on the edge of my desk and leans in. “That thing looks awful. Just go grab something else for lunch.”
“I’m fine, really. It tastes fine,” I say in protest, but I’m not a good actress and she sees right through my pitiful attempts at lying. I’ve spent the last fifteen minutes trying very hard to pretend like that scene between Grady and I didn’t just happen. Margot gives me a curious glance. She’s not going to let this go. I haven’t eaten lunch out of the office since that day I went to The 101 Club, and she’s started to notice. Before then, I’d gone out for lunch regularly. I’d even made a comment or two about hating to pack a lunch. It makes me feel like I’m eight years old all over again, but I don’t like the alternative much, so I stay in. And now that I know what happens when I go out for lunch in a post-Grady world, I really don’t think I want to do that again.
“Uh oh, that’s two fines nearly back to back,” Margot says with a sympathetic smile. “You can talk to me, Holly. That scene was kind of intense.”
“Okay,” I say and lean in. I have to give her something to sate her need for gossip. The woman is a damn bloodhound when there’s a story to be scooped. “I’m a little tight on money right now. I just don’t need the added expense of buying lunch.”
“Is that what your fight was about, that you won’t let him help you with money? I mean, you can’t really be tight on money with Grady around,” she whisper shouts with a mischievous smile on her face. My stomach drops, and my face falls at the mention of his name. Margot has done so well not to mention him much in recent weeks that her teasing catches me off guard, but what do I expect after that show of caveman idiocy? I really don’t want to talk about Grady or the band of hooligans he has keeping tabs on my every move. They’ve already invaded every other part of my life. I don’t want them to now invade work as well. I guess that went out the window the moment he stormed in here demanding to speak to me.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says. “Is that impolite? I just meant that…I have a cousin with glaucoma. I know he buys from a guy in Willits who says he gets his stuff from the club. I just figured with those nice houses and bikes they have and all…oh, nevermind.”
Margot’s worked herself up into a tizzy. She leans back in her chair, rubs her hands together, and pouts. She keeps doing this. As if Grady’s totally inappropriate ass slap, and Cheyenne’s repeated visits to my desk aren’t enough, I also have Margot who just can’t let this fake relationship go. Only, both Cheyenne and Margot think it’s real.