Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
“You’re about to blow my assistant,” he replies bluntly.
“I don’t think I’m the right gender for him to enjoy that.” I remember reading an article on Tim in The Advocate about the difficulties he faced being an openly gay man in the notoriously conservative world of finance. He’d said that he had the full support of his boss and the company, and if I hadn’t already fallen hard for Con I would have after reading that.
Tim muffles a snort while Con continues to glower. “You think the office is a joke? That I’m running a charity here? Two hundred fucking people depend on me here to make money so that they can feed their families. Nothing we do here is a joke.”
I sober up immediately. “No. It’s not. I’m sorry. I dropped papers and Tim was helping me to pick them up.”
Tim jumps in, his jingle bell tie tinkling lightly. “She’s done a really good job filing today.”
Con isn’t having any of it. “I hired her to help you, not play games in the filing room. If it takes two of you to do the filing then you can share one paycheck.”
With those stupid and hurtful words, he turns on his heel and stomps away. Tim and I didn’t do anything wrong, but the sting of Con’s rebuke still smarts. I spread a hand over my chest as if there’s a physical ache I can rub away.
“He’s having a bad day,” Tim says quietly.
“I guess Bach put him in a bad mood,” I quip, dropping my hand to my side.
“I don’t think it’s the music,” the man next to me murmurs as he hands me the papers he picked up.
I add them to my own stack. Blowing a strand of hair out of my eye, I admit, “I know. It’s me. You probably think I’m a fool for chasing after him, a man twice my age, but it’s him I want.”
Tim’s face grows pinched. He desperately wants to say something, but his professionalism is preventing him from speaking out.
“Say it,” I urge. “Get it all out of your system. If we’re going to work together then you should feel comfortable around me, but you should know that I’ve considered every objection you can come up with already.” I tick them off on my finger. “I’m too young so I can’t possibly know my own heart. He likes mature women. The age gap is too large.”
“How about he would lose the respect of those he cares about,” Tim says when I take a breath.
I know then why Tim and Con have worked together for so long. They are a real team, not just an employer and an employee. Tim’s opinion would matter, which is why I need to convince my new co-worker that not only do I want Con but he really wants me back and not just because I’m a forbidden piece of fruit that the boss can finally take a bite out of.
“Anyone who truly loves Con would want him to be happy and that’s all I want to do with my life—make him happy. I’ve watched him for years. I know what he likes—in every way,” I hint heavily.
When Tim swallows hard and looks away, it’s clear he knows exactly what I’m referring to. Con has certain preferences—ones that I’m only privy to because I arrived at the Plaza one night after the Yuletide Ball, determined to slake the thirst he’d generated.
I’d only gotten up to the private elevator by following a woman inside and jumping into the car while the doorman’s back was turned. On the way up, I couldn’t help but hear the conversation she was having.
“I’m not interested,” Con’s stern voice echoed out of the speaker.
“You will when you see me. I’m wearing everything that you like,” she insisted.
Curious to know what that was, I inspected her closely. She wore white high heels with ribbons that wrapped around her ankles and tied in a bow. Her pink dress coat hung slightly open and I caught a glimpse of something frilly underneath.
“You won’t know until you see me, Con. I’m the little girl for you. I swear it.”
I didn’t hear his response, but the elevator shuddered to a stop and then suddenly reversed course.
The lady started pleading again. “Let me up. Let me show you how good of a girl I can be.”
But the elevator moved relentlessly down to the first floor. The doorman met us at the doors and told both of us sternly to not bother Con again. I’ve never had the nerve to go back. Later, I went home and looked up the term “little girl” and discovered a kink I never knew existed, but one that suited me perfectly.
“And you think you’re the one to make him happy?” Tim asks, jerking me back to the present.