It’d been a few days since Matty came into the office, and I still couldn’t get the visual of Jenny rocking her ass back and forth in that skirt purged from my memory. Any other employee I would’ve fired on the spot. I’d wanted to grab her by the arm, haul her into a conference room, and shove her up against the wall. I wanted to do unspeakable things to her for the way she challenged me. I had to figure out something—some way to deal with her. If I wasn’t careful the other employees would take notice of her special treatment and the way she back talked constantly. It was a real issue and not something I was willing to tolerate.
I kept telling myself that hiring her was the right decision. Her performance was off the charts and she was incredibly intelligent. She was good for the agency, but she was hell for my dick. Every time I heard her voice I wanted to silence it with my mouth on hers.
Get your shit together, Ethan.
A knock at my office door jarred me from the dirty things I was doing to Jenny Jackson in my mind. “Come in!” The words came out far more harshly than I intended. I chalked it up to sexual frustration. Getting women to sleep with me wasn’t difficult, but the last few weeks had been the longest dry spell in history.
Other women simply didn’t interest me. At all. It didn’t matter if I was at the bar or at the gym, all I saw was Jenny Jackson, and nothing else compared.
I glanced to the door and fuck me if it wasn’t her. This wasn’t good. A half hour was needed to prepare for any encounters with her, to make sure I didn’t allow emotions to guide my decisions.
“How can I help you, Miss Jackson?”
As usual, I stared down at my desk. She needed to think she meant nothing to me other than an employee number and a progress report, and I didn’t trust myself to look at her.
“First, I wanted to apologize about the other—”
I cut her off mid-sentence and rolled my index finger in the air. “What do you need, Miss Jackson. Get to the point.”
I didn’t look up, because looking up would most assuredly end up with me making a poor decision. It was better this way.
I noticed her fidgeting with her hands, but I managed to have some semblance of willpower and refrained from moving my gaze to her face. I studied people for a living and the last time she messed with her hands in this manner, it was about her father.
“Right. Well, it’s my dad. He’s sick.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. In front of me on my desk sat ten contracts that I needed to go through, and all I saw in my mind were letters that formed the word “Jenny” all over them.
“I’m really sorry to bother you, but I don’t have anyone else who can take care of him. My best friend—”
“We don’t make excuses at my company. Nobody has time to listen to them. If you need to go, then go. Make sure the work is done on time.” I waved her away with my hand. My stomach lurched and I could practically feel the tears she was holding back.
“Yes, sir.”
She turned to the door and I was finally able to look up. Just let her leave, Ethan. Let her hate you.
“Miss Jackson?”
She stopped in front of the door, but remained silent.
“Gina tells me you’re knocking it out of the park, and that we’re lucky to have found you. Keep up the good work.”
She nodded and walked out of the office. It wasn’t like I wanted to fuck with her like that. Figuring out how to deal with Jenny was next to impossible.
I read over the same line of the contract for about the tenth time in a row. The clock on my computer read 8:04 p.m. Fuck. Anxiety rushed through my veins every time I thought about Jenny in my office earlier. It’d been six hours and I’d reviewed one contract. One! I still had five that needed to be ready by the end of the week.
The past six hours had been torture for my brain. I’d hate myself for being so cold, then rationalize it any way possible. It’s what’s best for the company. You have other employees to think of. They all depend on you for a job. None of my excuses were the real reason I’d nearly made Jenny Jackson burst into tears in my office, but I couldn’t admit it to myself.
Thirty minutes later I managed to get through another contract and belted out a huge sigh of relief. Two hours of work had taken eight. Eight fucking hours. What had I done to myself?
I stood and walked over to the window in my office overlooking the bull pen. A janitor emptied trash bins, but the place looked cold and empty, quiet. The human resources manager’s office caught my eye and a burst of tingles shot across my skin.
It was a bad idea, I knew this. There was no way I could relive another day like today though. Everything was Jenny this, Jenny that. She’d invaded every bit of me, and the more I tried to push her away, the more it amplified.
I made my way down to the HR office, giving a nod to the janitor who wore headphones and bobbed her head. I’d have given anything to be her, to have just five minutes of clarity and carefree thoughts.
My keys jingled as I unlocked the door. This is a bad idea, Ethan.
I couldn’t have stopped myself if I tried. An L-shaped desk divided the room in half and along the back wall were the file cabinets I was after. Dodging a few files on the floor, I made my way over to them. The employee files were all locked up for security purposes, but being the boss meant I had a key for everything.
I unlocked the top drawer labeled A through L, and thumbed through until I stopped on her file. There it was, Jenny Jackson, in bold black type on the lip of the file. The anxiety turned to adrenaline and my heart raced. Using information in the files for anything other than emergencies and business purposes was strictly forbidden. An employee’s personal life had no bearing on their work. The two were to be compartmentalized. These were rules that I had implemented for myself when I started the agency.
Against my better judgment, I pulled Jenny’s file from the cabinet and set it on the desk. I stared at it for a moment that seemed an eternity. Nothing inappropriate had been done yet. I could still shove the file back in the drawer and no harm, no foul. Instead, I opened it up.
There was nothing special about an employee file. Just personal information to make sure they were paid. My eyes darted down to her contact info, and a smile crept over my face when I saw the ten numbers on the line labeled “cellphone.”
I punched them into my cell and replaced her file exactly as it had been. Having her number in my phone felt so wrong and so right at the same time. In a weird way I felt more connected to her, knowing I could talk to her with the press of a button.
I made it back to my office and I was pretty sure the janitor hadn’t even seen me return. The contracts still covered my desk and I decided I could get at least one more done before heading home. I sat my phone off to the side and pulled out my yellow highlighter. Most people reviewed contracts on their computers, but I had to have the papers in front of me. Anyone else I’d probably scold for using paper and ink when it wasn’t necessary.
Three lines into the document and I’d glanced to my phone at least twenty times. What would it hurt? Checking on an employee’s well-being was being a good manager, right? She’d been distraught and I had a duty to make sure that she was okay. The fact I just wanted to hear from her was an unintended benefit of doing what was right.
After typing and deleting and typing some more, I hovered my finger over the send button. Don’t do it. Boundaries. I took in a huge breath and pressed the button.
Me: How is your dad?
I moved my gaze back toward my work when I saw three dots bouncing on the screen. My heart thumped against my rib cage, waiting for a reply.
Jenny: Who is this?
You didn’t even tell her who it was. Jesus.
Me: Sorry, it’s Ethan.
I wiped my palms down my slacks. A thin sheen of sweat formed across my brow and my mouth was dry as the Sahara. The bouncing dots started again and everything else in my office blurred into the background. I was locked in a staring competition with my phone.
Jenny: Oh.
Me: Sorry, I shouldn’t have texted.
I clutched the side of my face and snaked my fingers through my hair and down the back of my neck. This was stupid. She needed to fear me, hate me. I’d lose control of everything I’d worked for if I let her get under my skin, get the best of me.
Jenny: It’s okay. He’s sick, but doing better. Thank you.
My fingers flew across the keys before I had time to stop myself.
Me: Good to hear. How are you?
I should’ve asked when she’d be back at work. When I’d be getting a return on my investment. Because that’s what she needed to be for me, an investment. But she was more than that already.
Jenny: I’m okay.
The dots danced around again before I could type a response.
Jenny: Is that really why you texted me?
She was sharp, and it was what initially drew me to her. Her perceptiveness.
No.
Me: Yes.
Jenny: I don’t believe you.
Fuck.
She couldn’t just go along with it. So straightforward and to the point. No bullshit. Could I do that? What would it mean for our work relationship? My fingers decided before my brain could intervene.
Me: Why do you think I texted you?
Jenny: Because you miss me.
My heartbeat kicked up a notch or a hundred, palms sweaty, breaths shallow.
Me: You wish, Jackson.
Jenny: You’re a bad liar, Mason. Even when you’re texting. Night.
Me: Night.
My cock surged against my zipper. Fuck, this woman. What was she doing to me?