Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Baby’s a virgin, he mutters thickly in my ear. Lucky me.
The elevator doors open and I’ve never felt more exposed walking into the sweeping floor comprised of cubicles, offices, a lounge area. Donner Advertising has been my work home for two years, since I graduated from Tulane. It doesn’t feel like home right now, though. I’m in a waking dream in which I’ve arrived here naked.
“You have clothes on,” I murmur to myself, throwing my purse down on my cubicle desk. But I don’t sit down. I’m too restless. I’m…
Oh man, I’m so turned on.
I barely even know what this feeling means, I’ve been turned on so few times in my life. Men always make me feel like an alien. Like a placeholder until they can find someone sexier and more confident. Theo…he made me feel like the ultimate catch. My thighs quiver like jelly as I stand and stare at my workspace, my tummy in a perpetual summersault, remembering how he jerked and grunted into the cloth napkin, his ripped body in the throes of an orgasm.
Without thinking, I turn on my heel and beeline for the restroom. What I’m planning to do is shameful and scandalous, not to mention unethical, but I can’t concentrate. I think…yes, I think I need to touch myself or I’m going to melt. My clit throbs excitedly now that the questionable decision has been made, my underwear clinging tighter, as if my sex is swelling with anticipation. Have I ever been this aroused before?
Before I can reach the bathroom—and much to my horror—my boss, Elsa Vikander, blocks my path. “Miss Newsom. You’re back from lunch.”
In dramatic eye makeup and a leather dress, this woman has modeled her entire personality on Maleficent. Normally, she makes me shake in my oxfords, but I’m still coming down off the strangest lunch date of the century, so all I can do is stare at her and try not to look like I was on my way to masturbate in the company bathroom. “Good afternoon, Ms. Vikander. What can I do for you?”
“Funny enough, your lunch outing made me think…”
“It did? How?” I say, wide-eyed.
“Because I went to your desk to ask you a question and you weren’t there.” She laughs, as if this is the funniest thing she’s ever experienced. “It made me realize how many times you’ve worked through your lunch break. Sad, really. But productive.”
What a hoot. “Thanks. Uh. Yes, well…”
“And it got me thinking, that kind of dedication should be rewarded with opportunity.” She leaves that statement hanging in the air, for dramatic suspense, I guess. “I’m going to let you present a campaign to Yerbi on Friday.”
“You’re…what?”
I’m not horny anymore.
I’m frozen. A deer in headlights.
“You heard me,” chuckles Elsa, taking a long sip of her flavored seltzer. “I want to get some new blood into the boardroom. See if we can tackle our slump with youth and synergy.”
“We’re in a slump?”
“Eh, it’s minor.” She glances back over both shoulders. “Yerbi didn’t like what I came up with for their fall baby food flavor campaign and you know what? It probably did suck. I hate babies.” She shrugs. “Anyway, they requested someone new on their project, and I thought, why not July Newsom?”
“Because July Newsom has a fear of public speaking.”
“There’s only one way to get over that.”
“Klonopin?”
“No, silly. Speaking publicly. A lot. Starting Friday.” She pats my cheek. “Better to have you fail than me, I always say.”
Elsa sails off in a condescending cloud of Opium by YSL before I have the chance to tell her I can’t do the presentation. That I will have a panic attack if positioned in front of enough people. I’m a background person. I’m quiet. I like doing the grunt work and letting someone else take the glory. That’s what I’ve been doing up until now. Setting up ideas for Elsa to knock down. Isn’t everyone in the office comfortable with that, too? I’m treated like the cute but dorky assistant who doesn’t know how the world works.
I might not be happy in that role, but I’m comfortable in it.
I return to my desk in a daze.
A double daze.
When I get there, my co-worker, Dierdre, is sitting in my chair, looking exasperated. “There you are!” she exclaims, pushing out of the chair. “Why didn’t you show up for your date with Kevin?”
Oh my gosh, I’ve been so wrapped up in my indecent thoughts, I forgot that I’d eventually have to explain my absence at the coffee date. “It’s kind of a funny story.”
She curls her upper lip at me. “Kevin doesn’t think it’s funny. He waited for half an hour.”
I wince. “To be fair, I was actually there. At the café.”
“You were?” Her mouth hangs open a moment. “You didn’t think he was cute?”
Do I tell her the truth? I have to give some explanation or she’ll think I’m just a flake. An abbreviated version, however, because…I’m still processing what actually happened. And maybe I want to keep it to myself. “I sat down at the wrong table. With the wrong guy.”