Show and Tell by Jasmine Haynes

e-mail and arguing, the ten-minute lockout period ended. Trinity typed, the system worked, and the opening screen flowed across her monitor. “Thank you so much for your help. I’ll play around with the menus you showed me earlier.”
     
     
    She wanted to scream, “Get out.” Which made her think of Harper on his knees in her perfect little courtyard last night.
     
     
    Inga backed away. “Don’t mess anything up.”
     
     
    “I’m only going to look.” With the binder open. Following its instructions carefully. Maybe there was a class she could go to instead of dealing with Inga. She was a good student. She’d graduated from college. She’d raised over a million dollars for charity. She could do this.
     
     
    Maybe she should have swatted Inga down for insubordination, but that would put them at war before she’d even started.
     
     
    The rest of the day went downhill from there.
     
     
    SCOTT held up a hand as he picked up the receiver. “I need to take this call.”
     
     
    Elton, his lead general accountant, stopped, his mouth still open, his words trapped.
     
     
    “Here’s what you’re going to do.” Her voice, low, musical yet dominant over the phone, stroked Scott’s cock. She loved the dominant role, but he played it better.
     
     
    In his gut, he’d known it was her, and he couldn’t chance letting her go to voice mail. “Can you hold a moment?”
     
     
    “I’ll hold, but I’m not happy about it.” Her snarky replies never failed to amuse him.
     
     
    He dispatched Elton, assuring him they’d take up the discussion on the returns analysis as soon as his call was complete. “Close the door on your way out.”
     
     
    Elton pushed his wire rims back up his nose and gazed at Scott a full two seconds before doing just that.
     
     
    Scott had to admit his behavior was atypical. He didn’t interrupt conversations for phone calls. He didn’t close his door several times a day. He didn’t do phone sex in his office.
     
     
    She made him do a lot of things out of the norm.
     
     
    “Now what can I do for you? Another train ride?” A few minutes after five, she couldn’t have gotten home yet.
     
     
    “Seven thirty. Same hotel as before. I’ll call you with the room number.” Then the connection went dead.
     
     
    He held the phone out and stared at it. She couldn’t mean that. It was too damn easy. And she wasn’t easy. Why now? Without even a hint of coaxing?
     
     
    Something was wrong. Or something was very, very right. And Scott would sure as hell be there to find out what she had planned for him.
     
     
    TRINITY knew she was crazy, but she needed a sexual boost. And wasn’t that the craziest thing of all? She of the perfect sexual tryst, makeup just so, not a hair out of place, nor a trace of perspiration, was planning a down and dirty session in an anonymous hotel room with a virtual stranger. Again.
     
     
    The second time she called Scott, she’d gotten his voice mail. Citing the room number, she gave specific instructions on what he was to do when he arrived. Then she ran a bath in the oversized tub, dumping the contents of the little shampoo bottle in the water to foam.
     
     
    It had been an awful day. Why was she letting Inga get to her? She knew perfectly well how to slam someone down when they needed it. But Inga Rice seemed to . . .
     
     
    Trinity unbuttoned and folded her sweater on the counter. Steam began to cloud the mirror. She unsnapped her bra.
     
     
    Though mortifying to admit, Inga made her feel inadequate. She had Catherine Zeta-Jones breasts, Angelina Jolie lips, and Marilyn Monroe hips. And she knew the job better than Trinity.
     
     
    Still, Trinity wouldn’t have called Scott and gotten a hotel room if Harper’s car wasn’t parked opposite the condo when she turned onto her street. As pathetic as it might be, she hadn’t wanted another confrontation. Instead, she’d flipped a U-ie, pulled over, and punched in Scott’s