Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 95311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Elliott stood up slowly, rolling his neck. He was still as hard as he had been with her beneath him, despite trying to distract his mind. He took a deep breath, walking up to her slowly, deliberately. She must have sensed his presence because she straightened herself. But she didn't turn around. He walked up behind her, close enough to feel her outline against his chest. He placed one of his palms on the desk in front of her. His face rested against her soft hair as he spoke into her ear.
"We can try to ignore this, Hannah. But we both know it is going to blow up in our faces."
She swore she could feel his lips press a kiss against her hair before he turned and left, but she shook off the idea. It was too personal, too intimate a thing to do. He wasn't that kind of man.
Hannah walked slowly over to her chair, her hands on her desk the whole time as if she needed help standing and walking. She sunk into her chair, resting her elbows on the surface of the desk and cradling her head in her hands.
Blow up in their faces? Didn't that just happen? How much worse could it get? Even if they had slept together, it was really no different. She wouldn't feel any less shame or embarrassment than she did right then. She still wouldn't be able to face him and better than she would the next morning.
Hannah groaned and picked up her phone, texting the first person she could think of.
Hannah: 8:02PM: I think I have to quit.
Tad: 8:02PM: Um... no. That is unacceptable.
Hannah: 8:03PM: You don't understand, Tad.
Tad: 8:04PM: Make me understand.
Hannah: 8:04PM: I can't. It's complicated.
Tad: 8:06PM: Nothing is complicated. Do you still want this job?
Hannah: 8:06PM: Yeah...
Tad: 8:07: Then its not complicated. Don't quit. Change your mindset. Take a cold shower. Have a cup of tea. Eat a whole bag of cookies. Go to bed early. Whatever it takes to get you out of this funk. You'll only regret quitting.
Hannah: 8:10PM: I'll see you tomorrow, Tad. Thanks for the pep talk.
Though she wasn't feeling any more peppy than before, at least she wasn't seriously considering putting her letter of resignation, effective immediately, on EM's desk for him to find first thing in the morning.
She wasn't sure how she was going to get through a day working in close quarters next to him, but she was going to do it. She had been warned from the beginning to stay away from him. She would just have to try a little harder, be more diligent and in control.
Hannah sighed, rose from her desk and took a stack of papers she needed to file away before she left for the night.
She came back ten minutes later to find EM's office light off, indicating he had finally left for the evening. She let out a sigh of relief, opening her office door and going to grab her purse and car keys. But then she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Unsure what was off at first, she looked around her office quickly. Then there it was. The surface of her desk. Everything had been moved off to both sides so the entire center of it was free of clutter. And something was carved in the beautiful wood.
I saw what happened.
Hannah felt her stomach drop. A sudden cold had the hair on her arms standing on end. The air in her office felt thick and hard to breathe. This was like something out of a horror movie. Who could have seen? Hannah looked down at the crude carved words with dread. Everyone had been long gone. Or so she had thought. There hadn't been any activity outside of their offices for hours. But someone had seen. Someone had watched her and Elliott writhing around on the couch like a couple of horny teenagers. Someone she worked with on a daily basis had seen her grinding against their boss.
Oh, God.
Hannah felt her head start to pound with a terrific migraine.
Who would carve something into her desk? Even leaving a note seemed juvenile and tactless. But to actually deface work property was a whole other level of extreme. Who did things like that? And she had only been gone a few minutes. Someone must have been waiting for her to leave, rushed in, moved stuff, carved their message and gotten off of the floor in under ten minutes.
Hannah found her scissors on the floor next to her desk, one of the blades was covered in wood shavings. She cleaned them off quickly, as if them being implicated felt wrong.
What was she going to do? Part of her felt like she should tell someone. But who could she tell? Tad? Then she would have to explain, in painful detail, exactly what this person had seen. And then she would be open to his censure. Tell Elliott? She knew she probably should. It was just as much about him as it was about her. But what could she say?