“Thank you,” she said. “You’re drunk.”
“You’re beautiful,” her boss added, and this time she didn’t say anything. Instead, she leaned toward the man and kissed him. She pressed her full, pouty lips to his, and their lips parted so their tongues could dance together. He tasted of the wine and the mint he’d had after. She pulled away.
“I’m sorry. I’m drunk,” she said, and once again, they both laughed.
When Aisha and her boss returned to the office, they both managed to get through the long walk to where her desk and his office were without stumbling or looking drunk. People watched them pass, of course, but they were trying to find any sign of sexual dalliances, not that they had polished off two bottles of wine. But despite the kiss, there was no sign of romance. No clothes on backward, no lipstick marks on his collar. Aisha’s coworkers were disappointed and returned to their jobs.
An hour after returning, the phone on Aisha’s desk beeped, indicating a call from Mr. Conner. She lifted the receiver to her ear.
“Yes, sir?” she asked.
“Can you work late tonight?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said.
“Good. Come in here.”
Aisha stood and went into her boss’s office. He sat behind his desk, rubbing his temples with the pads of his fingers. “Wine at lunch was a bad idea.”
“What’s going on?”
“Tommy Wilson just got arrested for drunk driving,” Mr. Conner said. Tommy Wilson was a football running back and one of Mr. Conner’s more famous, and infamous, clients. He was also a lot of trouble.
“All right. Let’s spin,” Aisha said, nodding. Mr. Conner smiled at her and they got to work. It was a long day, first trying to track Wilson down first, then speaking with him on the phone, and then e-mailing his lawyer. A statement had to be drafted, and then Mr. Conner sent it to ESPN, the NFL Network, and other appropriate outlets. The long day slowly turned into a long night.
Finally, with an empty and dark office space beyond Mr. Conner’s door and a black sky that was starless due to the light pollution from New York City, Aisha’s boss let her off the hook.
“Go get some sleep,” he said. “Come in an hour late tomorrow.”
Aisha looked at the handsome man. “What about you?” she asked.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, waving her off. “I’m going to wrap a few things up.”
Aisha was sitting at her boss’s desk, but across from him. They had been like that for hours. Now she stood, and something was taking a hold of her. The day had turned out to be stressful, but she was working so closely with a man who was considered one of the best at exactly what she yearned to do, and it had injected her with adrenalin. The work was writing, talking, and sending e-mails, but somehow it had been exciting. And Mr. Conner had known Aisha was up for it. He told her to do something, and she did it. He didn’t check up on her; he trusted her.
Her attraction to and admiration for the man had grown in the hours since she had sat across from him and gotten to work. Now she stood and moved around the desk. She sat there, her round ass perched on the edge of his desk, crossing one dark-skinned leg over the other. He looked at her legs. “I’m not drunk now,” she said, looking at him. He glanced up at her.
Aisha didn’t know why she was doing it, but she knew she wasn’t going to stop herself. He might stop her; he might know it wasn’t appropriate, but she almost always got what she wanted, especially when it came to men. Anthony Conner didn’t disappoint.
He reached up, placed his hands on her legs, her thighs, and stood. She uncrossed her legs, spreading them, and he stepped over and forward, positioning himself in between them.
“Miss Davis,” Mr. Conner said, using her last name. “You’re being rather forward.”
Aisha grinned. “I just told you I wasn’t drunk. You came up here.”
“I did.”
“For what?”
“To kiss you.”
“Is that a good idea?” Aisha asked. Her boss grinned.
“Let’s find out,” he said, and then he leaned forward and they kissed. It was long, sensual. Finally, he pulled away, and they both opened their eyes.
“It’s a good idea,” Aisha said, and then they were kissing again.
His hands went down to her legs once more, his strong fingers on her thighs, his hands riding up, taking her skirt with them. He leaned forward, and she slipped her arms around him, her hands on the back of his expensive shirt. Their kissing was hot and heavy, their tongues exploring each other’s mouths. He moved his hands up from her legs, pushing up and over her hips and then along her ribcage on either side.