something again, not to hesitate to tell you, because you wouldn’t get offended?”
I nod, confused. “Yes, since it was just this morning, I do remember that.”
He smiles. “Great. Because you seem to have forgotten your underwear today and I thought you might want to know.”
He picks up his coffee and strolls out of the conference room.
And I seriously want to effing die.
Chapter Ten
(Or: Embarrassment is a wine best served cold)
I storm as quickly as I can back to my office and pick up my phone. I type so fast and furious that it actually hurts my texting finger.
You. Me. Wine. My patio. Tonight.
I send this to Sara.
And then I add, You’re lucky that I haven’t hired a hit man.
I stay in my office as much as I can all day for two reasons.
1) Because my crotch hurts too much to walk; and
2) Because I will die if I have to look Alex in the eye right now.
I try to decide how best to handle this. I can’t believe he saw my dainty lady bits from under the table and I am absolutely mortified. Alex is going to think that I’m a flipping freak. And I can’t believe that he even said anything! But to be fair, I did tell him that I never get offended. And that’s partially true.
I’m not offended.
I’m humiliated. And there is a difference.
Good Lord.
I re-position myself in my seat trying to stay off of said dainty lady bits. I do a quick search online to see when I can expect the pain to subside. Most articles say that the pain should’ve decreased after the first night.
Wrong.
I cringe as I move.
This is horrible.
Absolutely freaking horrible. And it is the last time I listen to Sara. Ever.
My pity-party is interrupted by Taylor knocking softly on my door.
“Hey, boss,” she says, coming in before I tell her to. “This was just delivered for you. It says private, so I didn’t open it.”
She’s holding a little box with a card. She’s clearly curious. As am I.
I take it from her and start to open the card before I realize that she’s waiting to see what it is. I raise an eyebrow.
“Thank you,” I tell her.
“Oh, no problem,” she answers. She stays put, still waiting.
“That will be all,” I say, hinting again .
She looks at me.
“Oh!” her eyes widen. “Okay.”
She turns around and walks out with a bewildered look on her face. I can understand her confusion. She has practically shared every part of my life since she came here. She takes care of my calendar (including doctor’s appointments), and opens all of my mail, including the court papers from the divorce. There has never been anything marked ‘Private’ before. She’s dying to know what it is. And I am too.
I open the card. Bold handwriting is scrawled across a linen card.
Alli Cat,
You said that you weren’t sure what you wanted. So I decided that you need to connect with your inner Freak. You need to let loose every once in a while. It’s fun. And it’s good for you.
Wear this on your date tomorrow night. I will have the remote control with me. Text me where you will be. I’ll be there too.
XX,
Shade
I am instantly nervous as I open the little white box. As well I should be.
A long silver egg slides out from the tissue and into my fingers. It is cool to the touch and heavy. I stare at it for a moment before I realize what it is.
It’s a vibrator. And it’s meant to be worn internally.
Oh, sweet Mary.
I’m shaking my head as though Shade were here with me right now. I’m not wearing this. I’m not doing it.
My phone buzzes.
Have you received my gift?
Shade.
I practically pant now. Both from the gift and from the idea that Shade sent it and expects me to use it.
Yes. I text back. And there’s no way in hell.
There is a pause. Then a reply.
You’ll do it. Because you’re daring and fun.
I pause.
Am I?
I nod, confused. “Yes, since it was just this morning, I do remember that.”
He smiles. “Great. Because you seem to have forgotten your underwear today and I thought you might want to know.”
He picks up his coffee and strolls out of the conference room.
And I seriously want to effing die.
Chapter Ten
(Or: Embarrassment is a wine best served cold)
I storm as quickly as I can back to my office and pick up my phone. I type so fast and furious that it actually hurts my texting finger.
You. Me. Wine. My patio. Tonight.
I send this to Sara.
And then I add, You’re lucky that I haven’t hired a hit man.
I stay in my office as much as I can all day for two reasons.
1) Because my crotch hurts too much to walk; and
2) Because I will die if I have to look Alex in the eye right now.
I try to decide how best to handle this. I can’t believe he saw my dainty lady bits from under the table and I am absolutely mortified. Alex is going to think that I’m a flipping freak. And I can’t believe that he even said anything! But to be fair, I did tell him that I never get offended. And that’s partially true.
I’m not offended.
I’m humiliated. And there is a difference.
Good Lord.
I re-position myself in my seat trying to stay off of said dainty lady bits. I do a quick search online to see when I can expect the pain to subside. Most articles say that the pain should’ve decreased after the first night.
Wrong.
I cringe as I move.
This is horrible.
Absolutely freaking horrible. And it is the last time I listen to Sara. Ever.
My pity-party is interrupted by Taylor knocking softly on my door.
“Hey, boss,” she says, coming in before I tell her to. “This was just delivered for you. It says private, so I didn’t open it.”
She’s holding a little box with a card. She’s clearly curious. As am I.
I take it from her and start to open the card before I realize that she’s waiting to see what it is. I raise an eyebrow.
“Thank you,” I tell her.
“Oh, no problem,” she answers. She stays put, still waiting.
“That will be all,” I say, hinting again .
She looks at me.
“Oh!” her eyes widen. “Okay.”
She turns around and walks out with a bewildered look on her face. I can understand her confusion. She has practically shared every part of my life since she came here. She takes care of my calendar (including doctor’s appointments), and opens all of my mail, including the court papers from the divorce. There has never been anything marked ‘Private’ before. She’s dying to know what it is. And I am too.
I open the card. Bold handwriting is scrawled across a linen card.
Alli Cat,
You said that you weren’t sure what you wanted. So I decided that you need to connect with your inner Freak. You need to let loose every once in a while. It’s fun. And it’s good for you.
Wear this on your date tomorrow night. I will have the remote control with me. Text me where you will be. I’ll be there too.
XX,
Shade
I am instantly nervous as I open the little white box. As well I should be.
A long silver egg slides out from the tissue and into my fingers. It is cool to the touch and heavy. I stare at it for a moment before I realize what it is.
It’s a vibrator. And it’s meant to be worn internally.
Oh, sweet Mary.
I’m shaking my head as though Shade were here with me right now. I’m not wearing this. I’m not doing it.
My phone buzzes.
Have you received my gift?
Shade.
I practically pant now. Both from the gift and from the idea that Shade sent it and expects me to use it.
Yes. I text back. And there’s no way in hell.
There is a pause. Then a reply.
You’ll do it. Because you’re daring and fun.
I pause.
Am I?
Similar Books
