I’d never been this distracted while doing my job, and it was completely his fault. This was exactly why I kept my two lives so very separate. He’d become a hindrance to my career. And somehow, I had to turn the tables back in my favor.
So I would be there on Wednesday when he arrived for his appointment. And I would tell him exactly what he wanted to know. But, by God, it would be on my terms.
When I dressed on Wednesday, I wore my smartest outfit. My boots were knee-high under a tight pencil skirt that clung to my every curve. My blouse hugged my breasts and showed a little more of my cleavage than was maybe appropriate for an office setting, which is why I wore the jacket over it.
I just planned to take the jacket off when Nathan was due for his appointment.
Fifteen minutes before his arrival, I unbuttoned my jacket and hung it on the back of my chair. I made a whole to-do about it, waving at my face as though I was suddenly having a hot flash, in case someone walked by while I was taking it off, or in case Hudson had cameras I didn’t know about. It was unnecessary dramatic stuff, but it made the whole performance believable. And if there were any lucky security guards watching me go from secretary to sexpot, I definitely wanted it to look believable, and not like a seduction.
Of course, if they’d been watching, they would have seen what happened last time, too. The thought gave me a little thrill.
Nathan, the asshole, didn’t show up early this time like he had last week, much to my chagrin. Instead, he rolled in exactly at his appointment time of four P.M., rushing with his portfolio in hand. He barely had time to glance in my direction before Hudson came out to greet him. He must have been waiting eagerly for Mr. Sinclair’s arrival, knowing he was the last appointment of the day. A long weekend with his wife and children beckoned, just as soon as he was done with this one last thing on his calendar.
I scowled after them as they disappeared into Hudson’s office without a backward glance at my carefully designed outfit, wondering if I should cancel my plan altogether. On one hand, it was better that he hadn’t stopped to talk to me. That way, I didn’t have to make excuses or stall if he asked me about the panty scenario before his appointment.
On the other, what if he wasn’t interested in my fantasy anymore? What if his kinky sex game was last week’s conquest, and this week he’d moved on? It wasn’t an impossible idea. In fact, the party where I’d met him was entirely based on shiny new things.
Maybe I shouldn’t do it, I thought. I could just wait until he came out and then see if he was still interested. If he gave me the right look, then I would know for sure if my plan would work.
But no, because then it would be too late to execute it.
I had to figure out what to do now, while he was still in the office with Hudson. That was the only way this would work. I needed to make my decision immediately. What was I going to do?
Before I’d figured out exactly how I was going to get away with my plan, or if my plan was even still a good idea, my phone rang. The light indicated it was Hudson calling from within.
I picked up the receiver. “Yes, Mr. Pierce?”
“Patricia, could you get Mr. Sinclair some bottled water please?”
My stomach fluttered at his name. “Of course.”
This was my chance. I’d get to interact with him and I could take the opportunity to see if he’d give me desiring glances of any sort. Lust is always in the eyes, and I consider myself an expert at recognizing it. Ten years involved with the kink scene teaches a woman a thing or two.
I freshened my lipstick quickly. Then, like the week before, I retrieved a bottle of water and a glass of ice. With a knock on the door, I entered Hudson’s sanctum and delivered the items to his guest.
“Would you like me to pour for you, Mr. Sinclair?” I asked, standing a little closer to the gentleman than I needed to. It was a move that had garnered me many lascivious glances in the past from businessmen in this office.
I stared at him in anticipation.
Damn, he was dreamy. He had a scar near his ear. And his cologne… I’d memorized it so clearly from the last time I’d seen him that it felt as familiar as my grandma’s tiramisu—and just as decadent.
“I can manage. In fact—” He handed the glass back to me. “—I don’t need the glass at all. Save that ice for yourself, why don’t you?” He raised those sea-green eyes up to mine, a wicked gleam sparkling right behind them.
And though I hadn’t caught him checking out my chest or my legs, hadn’t felt his eyes on my ass as I left the office, I knew he’d definitely meant his parting line to be seductive. I could just imagine all the dirty things Nathan Sinclair could do to a woman with a piece of cold, melting ice. He wanted me thinking about it, that rat.
Well, two could play that game. My plan was definitely on.
I waited a few moments after I was back at my desk before getting to it. Waited long enough for Hudson to really get involved with his conversation with Nathan Sinclair, waited for Nathan to pull out whatever was in his portfolio and spread it all over Hudson’s desk. Long enough to imagine him pulling it out and spreading me on my boss’s desk…
Focus, Trish, focus.
Then I dug my cell phone out of the purse that I kept in the lower drawer of my desk and called the office. Without hanging up, I set my cell down. I answered the office phone with my usual spiel, even though I knew it was just me on the other line, then I put the desk phone on hold. Once the line was blinking, once Hudson could see that there was a phone call waiting, I dialed into his office.
“Mr. Pierce, I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s a phone call for Mr. Sinclair from his office. His assistant says she needs to speak with him immediately.” I suddenly felt guilty about the lie. I hadn’t really thought this part through, the part where I would make up something completely untrue and probably worrisome about somebody else’s place of employment.
He deserves this, I reminded myself. Because he’d messed with my work, with my ability to do my job well.
“I’ll just put him on the line then,” Hudson said. I waited as he clicked the handset down on his desktop. “Nathan,” I could faintly hear Hudson saying to his guest, “your office is trying to reach you. Would you like to take the call?”
There was a beat of silence, of rustling, maybe Hudson had put the phone against his suit and I couldn’t hear what was going on, and for a moment I wondered if I’d screwed up. Perhaps Nathan’s office was closed for the day. Maybe there was no way that his office would be calling him, ever, and now I’d be found out by both him and my employer.
But then I heard him, heard that sexy voice.
“I suppose I turned my phone off when I arrived. Sure, I’ll take it.”
Another rustle and some shuffling, Hudson probably giving up his chair. Hudson likely handing over the phone across the desk and then there was his voice right at my ear. “This is Nathan Sinclair.”