“Excuse me,” I mutter. I straighten up and wait for him to move aside. Channel your inner Rose Calloway Cobalt. I silently repeat the mantra: I am a fortress. I am a shark. No one will fuck with me.
I clear my throat. “Excuse you.” I wince at myself. Would Rose have said that? “I mean…” I shake my head. “I’m here to see Connor.”
He brushes his fingers through his salt and peppered hair. “You see the glass walls?” Then he gestures to the walls right beside us like I’m dumb. Of course I see them. “See how they’re frosted?” Yes, I can’t see into them. Cobalt Inc. has electronic frost to add a little privacy.
Hale Co. offices don’t have that.
I once asked Rose if she’s ever had sex with Connor in his office. I’m still really proud of the moment because I didn’t stammer or flush.
She said, “I’ll tell you but you can’t act like it’s ground-breaking and you can’t tell Loren. This is a sister thing.”
“I promise.” We pinky-promised. I refused her blood pact offer, which involves cutting our palms.
“Yes,” she said, “we’ve had sex in his office.”
I couldn’t stop smiling because she did something that I haven’t done yet. Though I have had sex in the Halway Comics office, but it’s not a giant corporation like the other Fortune 500 companies.
And I’ve upheld our promise to this day. I plan to take it to my grave.
The man suddenly waves his hand in my face.
Oh shit. How long has he been doing that? I spaced out. Connor’s frosted walls reminded me of sex. Everything reminds me of sex. Can he tell?
I know he can’t. It’s all in my head. I try to remember this.
“Did you hear what I said?” he asks.
I nod. “These are frosted walls.”
“Which means that he’s in a meeting.”
Oh.
I didn’t prepare for this. “I can wait.”
He does this head-tilt thing. “How about you come to my office? I have a couch you can sit on while you wait.” His gaze never deters from mine, thankfully, but this small gratitude doesn’t erase his lustful expression, completely full of wrongdoings.
I’d like to say this happens far less than it does, but most people will see me and think oh, there’s that sex addict. A select, sleazy few view this as an invitation to hit on me, believing I’ll welcome their advances with wide-open legs and a bed.
The sleazy few tend to be entitled, affluent men. I thought that I’d be free of them around Connor’s office, only because he said that he’s strict about drug testing his employees. I realize now that my logic makes no sense. A person doesn’t have to snort coke to be a corrupt asshole.
And some people with money believe they possess limitless power over others.
Even over me.
My skin crawls. “I’m okay here.” I assess my surroundings, not sure where here is. An empty receptionist desk sits about two feet away. I sink into the robust chair, claiming this seat for now.
It’s what Rose would do.
Instead of taking the hint, the man slides onto the sleek desk. Right in front of my chair. His ass knocks into a business card holder, and his foot almost brushes me.
I go rigid, my eyes swerving left and right. It’s official: I hate Connor’s offices.
And his crotch—his crotch is eyelevel, and his fly is half open. I can’t tell if that’s on purpose or if he forgot to zip up after a bathroom break. Stop looking there!
I’m trying. I’m really trying.
I swallow hard, so uncomfortable, but I find a solution. I scoot the chair backwards. Without wheels, it screeches on the floor, but I succeed in distancing myself from him.
Take that!
“I can keep you company while we wait,” he says in this sincere voice. I hesitate for a moment, actually wondering if he’s trying to be nice since I look uncomfortable or if this is just a gross pick-up line.
“That’s okay.” I avoid his eyes now and dig in my pocket for my phone. “I’d rather be alone.”
He leans forward to whisper, “There are some men here that don’t necessarily love the Calloway sisters. It’s better if I stay to keep you away from their shit, and they’d definitely give you some.” He tilts his head again and smiles a smug smile. “Aren’t you going to say thank you?”
And then he tries to tap his foot to mine.
Nope. We’re not playing footsie. That’s not how my day is going. I have instructions. Connor Cobalt’s sleazy employee is not a part of my instructions. And I don’t want to play footsie with anyone but Loren Hale!
Rose would have his larynx ripped out by now.
My fingers whiten on the phone. “My parents never taught me those two words.” I never look at him as I text. “I’m a rich brat.”
I send Connor a simple text: I’m outside your office. Waiting for you.
I don’t add an SOS or help me. I don’t want to disturb his meeting.
“That’s funny,” he says flatly. “You sure you don’t want to wait in my office? It’s much more comfortable. I can find something you like.” His suggestive words make me sick.
I feel my face twist into a cringe.
“Come on. You won’t have to deal with all these stares.”
I take the bait and scan the room. A couple employees peek from their desks. Maybe they believe I’m seconds from grinding against this man. Maybe they anticipate the moment where I’ll let him lead me into a bathroom.
I wouldn’t.
I’m not that girl anymore. I’m not so consumed by a vice that I’d say yes and yes and never no. I have boundaries and rules, and here’s one of my biggest: I will not cheat on Loren Hale.
“Lily.”
I jolt at that voice. His smooth tone sounds like heaven, and I spring to my feet, beyond ready to meet Connor. I approach him so fast and nearly run into his arms.
Realizing that would look terrible, I stop midway and raise my hand in a half-wave. “Hi.” I peek at his frosted walls, hoping he didn’t leave an important meeting because of my text.
I could’ve survived an hour on my own, even with Sleazebag prodding me for sex.
“I can wait until you’re finished with your meeting,” I add while Sleazebag slides off the desk to stand up.
Connor is blank-faced, so I’m surprised when he asks, “What meeting?”
What?
I frown. “Your walls are frosted. I thought that meant you were in a meeting.”
“I always turn on the privacy glass at the end of the day.” His gaze drifts to Sleazebag, and the man raises his brows accusingly at me. Like I made it all up.
“I told her you were available,” he says.
I gape. He can’t be serious? What an asshole.
“She wanted to talk to me a little before heading in,” he continues.
My mouth just keeps dropping. Fuck him. And not sexually! Just to be clear, there is nothing sexual about this. “That’s not true!” I shout out of frustration, and a hot flush rises up my neck.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about it. It’s not like we did anything.” His tone implies that the door is still open if I ever want to do “something” with him.
I hate how he just turned my red flush around on me. How he used it against me. I feel trapped in a corner, and I’m not even sure how I got pushed there in the first place. I’m not good at mental games unless it involves lying to people I love.
And that’s a horrible skill. I’m ashamed I have it at all.
Sleazebag is about to say a goodbye. I see it on the tip of his tongue and the way he shifts towards the hall.
“Martin,” Connor says first.
Let Sleazebag leave. The longer we endure him, the more my stomach cramps.
“If this is about the Baylor account—”
“Pack your office and be out by tomorrow.”
My jaw unhinges.
Connor said that without blinking, without flinching, without his voice even elevating. He could’ve just said your hair is salt and pepper and it would’ve all been the same to him.
Sleazebag pales. “What?”
“I believed you were intelligent, but if you need me to reiterate, then you’ve just proved you’re too incompetent to work here.”
Sleazebag is in shock.
“You’re fired,” Connor says. “Do you understand me now?”