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The most infuriating staff member to have ever walked the earth. Intelligent, bossy, arrogant, and fucking annoying. Kathryn Landon, my arch nemesis. The official wicked witch of the west.
Today he’s wearing a navy-blue pinstripe suit with a white shirt, his dark hair curled to just-fucked perfection. I watch him do up his jacket with one hand, his briefcase in his other. His back is ramrod-straight, his stance dominant. Arrogance personified.
Have a safe trip home this afternoon, don’t walk in front of a bus or anything.
I give an awkward smile—I’m always so weird in social situations. Until I get to know someone I’m really not friendly at all. Not by choice of course, shyness is a curse.
I’m looking for someone who is only one color, but not one size. Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies. Present in sun, but not in rain. Doing no harm, but feeling no pain.
“Oh . . . hell,” he whispers. “That’s your . . . boss? Casanova Miles is your fucking boss . . . are you kidding me?” “Why did you call him that?” “That’s the press’s nickname for him. Well earned from what I hear.”
“Baby . . . he could cut anything out and it would probably still feel good.”
“Have you come to make fun of me dressed like this?” I ask. “On the contrary, I came over to tell you that you look beautiful, but I’ll take it back now. You obviously don’t want to hear it.”
“It’s saying that he’s going to bend you over his desk and fuck you hard.”
“He dated an acclaimed opera singer, an author, a humanitarian lawyer. He never dates run-of-the-mill women, and he wants you.” “Should I be flattered to be the run-of-the-mill woman, then?” “You know what I mean.”
“I don’t know, perhaps the person you’re talking to?” he replies. I drag my eyes over to him. “That’s better.” His eyes hold mine and then he gives me a slow, sexy smile. I feel it in the pit of my stomach as the butterflies flutter.
If I don’t look pretty, nobody will notice me . . . and my heart can never get broken again.
“You’re wearing a new perfume today.”
“Yes . . . you are. I know your scent.” His eyes hold mine. “And . . . today it’s different.”
“Turn your stupid boss on, until he cracks and pursues you. Then you have him charged with sexual harassment in the workplace.”
“It’s clear as day now—the hot little dress, turning up at that event looking like a walking fucking orgasm and then going home with another man. The sauna, ha.” He throws his head back. “The sauna was a good one, what chance do I have seeing you hot and sweaty in a bikini like that?”
“She’s everyone’s type,” he mutters dryly. Everyone’s type.
“Send two ambulances,” I bark. “I’m about to have a fucking heart attack myself.”
“The patient is about to get knocked back out. That’s what’s happening.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Remind me never to do cocaine with you,” I mutter dryly.
“You need to clean out your handbag, this thing is full of shit.” I stuff things back in. “Like you,” she whispers with her eyes still shut.
“I told you that you have the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. Not in a sleazy way . . . In a . . .” I shrug. “Observation kind of way.” His brow furrows. “And you’ve despised me ever since.”
“Vulnerable Kate is quite endearing.”
“He’s my boss,” I scoff. “All the better. Ask for a raise while you’re giving him head. Get a two-for-one bonus.” We all giggle. Rebecca’s eyes
