I fucking want her.
As the thought hits me, her picture appears on the screen. My fingers stop on the touchpad as I take in the soft curves of her face. Her beautiful smile puts my memory to shame.
Charlotte Rose Harrison.
I focus on her middle name Rose, which is also the color of her lips, and the delicate features fit her perfectly. She was meant to be a Rose.
Keynote speaker for Armcorp and former executive of sales for Steamens Marketing.
Education: Graduated from North State University (2013) with master's degrees in business, marketing and economics.
I’ve seen resumes like this before. Although I have to admit her progression in a mere three years is impressive. I’m not concerned with her work habits though. I should be, but in this very moment, I don’t give a fuck about any of that. I want to know about her.
I open a new browser tab and type in her name.
Specifically, I want to know who she’s fucking. That’s the only thing on my mind.
Before I can press enter, I shut the laptop with more force than what’s needed and slowly rise from my seat, shaking my head.
Now’s not the time or place for this shit. This is business. And she could be an employee of mine if we settle on her company. It’s one of the two we’re considering.
I stalk across the room in darkness and head to the large windows.
The idea of buying Armcorp just to be close to her eases the part of me that’s panicking to act now before she slips through my fingers. If she’s close, I can keep tabs on her until my interest wanes. And I’m sure it will.
I run my hand through my hair and then lean against the window. It feels cool against the palms of my hands.
It’s an easy enough decision to make. A shit reason to make a business decision, but I don’t need anyone’s approval. I own my business, and I can do whatever the fuck I want to do with it.
I close my eyes and lean my forehead against the cold glass. It’s late and I can’t be rash in this decision. My hands ball into fists as I push off the large window and move to the king-size bed in the room.
Tomorrow I’ll decide. Either I’m taking her, or I’ll leave her and this fantasy alone. As I close my eyes my dick begins hardening with the thoughts of what I want to do with her and I already know what my decision will be.
Charlotte Rose is mine.
Chapter 4
Charlotte
The pressure is real.
Convention hall. Game face on.
I’m sitting in the audience filled with my peers, coworkers and powerful business executives, trying to calm my rising anxiety. A lot is riding on this presentation. It could literally be the difference between having a job, or being on the street. Armcorp just hired me, and if I don’t ace this I know they’ll be wondering if I’m worth it.
To make matters worse, my boss is sitting right behind me and he’ll see everything. I’m doing my best to stay still and not appear nervous. I hold my head upright and do my best to project confidence, even though I’m drowning with anxiety inside. I hope he can’t sense that I’m nearly having a panic attack right beneath his nose.
I can do this, I tell myself. I’m strong, smart and confident. I have this presentation memorized. This is what I do, and I’m damn good at it.
I keep repeating these words in my mind, letting it become a powerful mantra that drives back the anxiety that threatens to send me running from the room a nervous wreck.
I will succeed. There’s nothing I can’t do. They hired me because they were impressed by my resume and experience. I have absolutely nothing to worry about.
I obsessively click on my phone and look at the time. Each presentation is fifteen minutes long and I’m up next. Two minutes left. Shit. My heart won’t stop racing. I dim my cell’s screen and put my phone away.
I don’t know what I’m going to do when I’m called up on that stage. I’m practically shaking like a leaf.
A soft voice interrupts my anxious thoughts.
“You’re going to do fine,” Eva White, a coworker who’s sitting right next to me, says. I look over and she’s staring at me with empathy, her large brown eyes looking at me reassuringly. For a moment, I feel my anxiety ease and I’m grateful that she’s sitting next to me.
Like me, she's dressed to impress, in a sleek black pantsuit with her dark red hair pulled back into a professional ponytail.
I smile back at her, unease twisting my stomach, and mouth, thank you.