I lean back and sigh, trying to concentrate on anything but her, and finding it almost impossible.9HazelHis hands on my body. His tongue between my legs.
It’s all I can think about as I head to the office. The sun hasn’t risen yet and my feet hurt from running another four miles yesterday, but I’m happy.
I’m really happy.
I didn’t think I’d be this happy going into work at the ass-crack of dawn. I thought I’d be angry or annoyed or frustrated that I’m stuck working for some rich guy while all I want to do is paint.
Instead, I go home feeling so inspired it’s crazy. These last couple of days I’ve gone for a run right away followed by a few hours of painting followed by bed. That’s been my life, work, bed, and painting, although the time off yesterday afternoon gave me some time to sit around and relax.
Today though, today I feel energized. I’m going to see him again, and I can’t wait. I keep seeing him in my mind, feeling him against my body. I hurry into the building and ride the elevator up to the top floor.
As soon as I get to the usual waiting room, I know something’s off. Rogers isn’t there, and he’s always there. Every morning he’s waiting to greet me with his usual stony silence, but not today.
I look around the room slowly, and spot the reason why.
Declan is sitting in a chair nearby, legs crossed, staring at me silently.
I smile at him sweetly, heart jumping into my throat. “Good morning, Mr. Gray.”
He smiles. “Call me Declan.” His voice is flat.
“Okay,” I say, hesitating. “Can I do something for you, Declan?”
“No, you can’t.” He slowly stands up with a sigh. “But I am here to speak with you.”
I frown a little, glancing around. I wish Rogers were here, heck, I wish anyone were here. It’s so early that most people aren’t in the building yet and I feel suddenly very alone.
Declan walks toward me and stops a few feet away. “Do you think you’re valuable?” he asks softly.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t. I’m just Mr. Ward’s assistant.”
“Good. And what’s your role?”
“To assist him.”
“Very good. So why are you acting as if you’re the most important person in this company?”
I stare at him, at a total loss. I barely see anyone other than Rogers and Mason, so I don’t know how I could be acting any sort of way. I stay in my corner and do what I’m told.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”
“You left early yesterday,” he snarls at me. “Why?”
I blink and laugh nervously. “Mr. Ward sent me home,” I say. “That’s all.”
“He sent you home?” Declan shakes his head. “Liar. He never sends people home early.”
“He sent me home,” I say. “You can ask him.”
“I’m sure you’d love that,” he sneers, rolling his eyes. “Listen to me, Hazel. You’d better learn your place and fast. Mason isn’t the kind of man that needs someone like you hanging around him all the time, taking advantage.”
“Taking… advantage?” I shake my head, at a total loss. I have no clue how someone could take advantage of Mason Ward, the strongest man I’ve ever met. He’s so dominant, so in control. The idea seems ludicrous.
Declan sighs and steps closer. “Walk the straight and narrow, Hazel, or I’ll get rid of you. Don’t forget that.”
Before I can respond, the light above the door turns on. I startle into motion. “Sorry, Declan,” I say. “That’s Mr. Ward. He’s calling for me.”
Declan glances at his watch. “He’s early today.”
“Yes, he is, and I should be in there already.” I hurry to the desk where Rogers sits and find the tray with coffee and a newspaper already waiting for me. I grab it quickly and push open the door.
I catch one last lingering glare from Declan as I hurry into Mason’s office, the door shutting behind me.
I try and put that moment out of my mind, but it’s hard. Why would the second most important person here threaten me twice now? I don’t understand why he’s so afraid of me having a good relationship with Mason. I’m just the assistant, that’s all.
So what if he gets me off sometimes?
I hurry toward Mason’s desk. He’s sitting there, watching me carefully.
“You’re late,” he says.
I curtsy as best I can, not saying a word.
He sighs and gestures at his desk. I put the tray down and he pours himself some coffee.
“I would’ve thought that you’d be on time today, seeing as I gave you time off yesterday.” He arches an eyebrow expectantly.
“Sorry, sir,” I say, head bowed, eyes downcast. I know he likes it when I do this little show of obedience, and for some reason I do want to make him happy. “It won’t happen again.”
“Good.” He sips his coffee and stands. “Yesterday, you expressed interest in getting to know me. I sent you home and hoped that you’d reconsider.” He pauses, looking at me closely. “Did you?”