Poker face...Poker face... “Well, as I’m sure you already know, it’s against company policy.”
“I can have that rewritten by the end of the week.”
“It’s also completely immoral and highly inappropriate.”
“That’s...debatable.” He reached out and pushed a strand of hair away from my face. “Is that all?”
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything.
I was too busy getting lost in his incredible eyes. I realized that they weren’t entirely blue; his irises were outlined in a wispy cloud of charcoal gray and there were speckles of emerald green gleaming within them.
“Miss Gracen? Are there any other excuses?” He inched even closer to me, slightly rubbing his nose against mine.
Why am I so turned on right now? I shouldn’t be feeling this way...He’s way too young for me, way too young for me...
“I’m not attracted to you.”
He raised his eyebrow. “Oh really?”
“Yes. Really.”
“Hmmm. Well, I guess that is a good enough reason.” He looked at his watch. “I have another meeting to go to...” He stepped away from me. “It was nice running into you again. I’ll see you around?”
“I guess so.” I nodded and watched him leave the room.
I wrote a few notes in my “Zen” journal and sighed. “I love my job....I love my job...”
Nope. Still not working...
No matter how many times I said it aloud, I still hated my job. With an undying passion.
I went through another stack of proposal campaigns and tossed them all into my “No way in hell” pile. My associates were really starting to annoy me. All their recent ideas were more terrible than usual; it was like they weren’t even trying.
I started typing yet another inspirational email to invigorate them, to inspire them to think of something that didn’t suck, but an email flagged as “important” popped up on my screen.
From: Statham, Jonathan
To: Gracen, Claire
Subject: Employee Relations
Date: January 8, 2013 2:30 PM
Miss Gracen,
I know you rejected my earlier proposal, but there are a few things I would like to discuss with you. Would you happen to have any free time this Friday evening?
Statham Industries CEO,
Jonathan Statham
From Gracen, Claire
To: Statham, Jonathan
Subject: Re: Employee Relations
Date: January 8, 2013 2:35 PM
Mr. Statham,
Once 5:00 pm arrives on Friday, I will have no desire to discuss anything related to Statham Industries, especially since I am paid by the hour and overtime is strictly forbidden. The next hour that I will be available to discuss these so called “employee relations” will be Monday morning. At 8:00.
Please make an appointment with my secretary,
Executive Marketing Director,
Claire Gracen
I hit send and shut down my computer. I walked over to my wall calendar, sighing at the date that was circled, and crossed off yesterday’s date with a red marker.
Four more days ‘til the big 4-0...
“Miss Gracen!” Mr. Barnes rushed into my office. “Is there any chance you could run our latest board up to the art department? The other directors and I have just been called into an emergency strategy meeting with Mr. Statham.”
What! Why wasn’t I called? Is he going to blackball my career because I turned him down? How immature...
As if he’d read my mind, he gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m sure they’re not letting you go...I’d put up a hell of a fight to get you to stay.”
“Thanks.” I stood up and took the board from his hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! We can’t use this!”
“What? Why not?”
“Are you kidding me? This is racist!”
“How so?”
I sighed. This was yet another reason why I hated working here.
We were supposed to be coming up with ways to market the new “sPhone Blue” but my department had missed the mark, once again: On the board was a picture of a cotton field, but instead of cotton blooms growing atop the plants, there were sPhones. There were slaves with baskets at their hips, smiling widely as they “picked” the crop. At the bottom of the picture were the words: “Bring back the good old days, the new sPhone Blue.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Barnes, I’m not taking this shit up there. We need to come up with something else.”
“Fine.” He snatched the board back. “Well, at least go get the boards back from yesterday. I’ll come get them from you after the emergency meeting.” He definitely stressed the word ‘meeting’ to irk me since I wasn’t invited.
As soon as he left my office, I headed for the elevators. I told myself that after I picked up the artwork, I would take a second lunch break since the other directors were more important than I was.
Five more years and I can quit....Only five more years...
I boarded an empty elevator and hit thirty, but it went down to the basement. Then it went to level two. Then it went to level four.
I was about to step off and try another elevator, but Jonathan Statham stepped on.
Every nerve in my body ran wild. My heart started fluttering against my chest—I could literally hear it, and tingles started crawling up and down my spine.
He turned around and smiled at me, and like a teenage girl with a high school crush, I turned away from him. I didn’t want him to know that he was affecting me.
I kept my eyes focused on the golden buttons that lit up as we passed every floor: Ten...Eleven...Twelve...
The elevator came to a sudden halt.
I looked over and realized he’d hit the stop button.
“Your reason for not going out with me doesn’t make any sense.” He turned around to face me. “Tell me the truth.”
“Please do yourself a favor and move on with your life, Mr. Statham. I’m sure you have far more important things to do than harass a mid-level employee. I told you that I’m not attracted to you.”
“And I think you’re lying.” He stepped closer. “You are attracted to me.”
I’m well aware...
“Are you normally this cocky? Surely you can accept the fact that I’m just not attracted to boys.”
“Boys?” His eyes hardened.
“Yes...” My breath hitched. “That would make me a pedophile.”
“Going out with me would make you a pedophile?”
“Going out with you would make my life a little more complicated than I need it to be. You clearly can’t handle rejection, probably lack emotional maturity, and are definitely more compatible with some vapid twenty year old who still doesn’t know the difference between emotions and—”
He pushed me against the wall and kissed me—forcing my lips apart, trying to control my tongue with his.
I tried to push him away, tried to shut my lips back together and act like this wasn’t turning me on, but once I felt his arms slipping around my waist, I slowly gave in and kissed him back.
I pressed myself back against him, stifling a moan as he bit my bottom lip, as he pinned me against the wall with his hips.
“Wait...Stop...” I pulled away from him. “I should get back to work.”
“Tell me the truth.” He stepped back. “Tell me that you do want to go out with me.”
“Maybe I do, but...”
“Pick the place.”
“I’m not sure if that would be very appropri—”
He pulled me back into his arms and kissed me harder than before, leaving me utterly breathless. “Pick. The. Place.”
“I...” I sucked in a breath. “I can’t go on Friday...What about Saturday?”