Once I arrive back to the house, I grab my gym bag and head back inside. I quickly toss my bag filled with dirty clothes on the floor and then head straight for my bedroom. I grab one of my suits from the closet and toss it on top of my bed. As much as I hate wearing them every single day, I’m determined more than ever to climb the corporate ladder and prove to myself and everyone else that I can do it.
At the firm, I’m one of the youngest employees, and it’s my mission to become one of the youngest executives in the history of Crawford Marketing. I’m on track, but it’s been a lot of proving myself and learning as much about the industry as I can. But I love a challenge. The job itself can sometimes be a bore, but it doesn’t hurt to have the CEO’s daughter suck me off every week. That alone makes me feel like I’m on top of the world.
It’s Thursday and if everything goes as planned, I may take a vacation day tomorrow and start my weekend early. No reason to let Viola ruin my plans.
Crisp white shirt, black tie and suit, and dress shoes make me look like I own the place; bonus when it makes women drop to their knees in point five seconds. As I’m pouring a cup of steaming hot coffee in my travel mug, I see Viola’s iPhone out of the corner of my eye sitting on the table in the living room. With a devilish grin, I grab it and place it in my breast pocket before heading back out the door.
The moment I walk to my car, Viola pulls into the driveway like a bat out of hell. She looks annoyed, or maybe that’s just her regular expression, but I flash a smile at her because I know it eats at her sanity.
“Have you seen my phone?” she asks.
I place a hand in my pocket and feel her phone as I lean against the door of the Challenger. She glares at me and I look down at my watch to catch the time. Viola whispers something under her breath, obscenities probably, as she turns on her heels and walks toward the house. I don’t have to be at work for another twenty minutes, so I have time to play. I put my thermos of coffee in the car, and then follow her back inside.
She’s frantically pulling cushions from the couch and storming around the house like a mad woman. It’s cute when she’s worked up, which seems to be all the time when she’s around me. I stand and watch for a few more minutes then pull it from my pocket and hold it in the air. She stops immediately and I tilt my head and look at her. She releases a deep breath of relief and walks toward me, but I place it back in my pocket. It won’t be that easy, sweetheart.
“If you want it, come get it.”
“Fuck off,” she hisses. “I really need my phone. Give it back.”
“Well we both know it’s not for a booty call.” I grin, but she looks less than amused. “Do you even know what that is?” The condescending tone has her nostrils flaring.
She groans and tucks her chestnut colored hair behind her ears. “Travis, I’m going to count to five and then you’re going to hand me my phone or so help me God, I’ll rip your balls off and shove them down your throat.”
“I dare you,” I whisper and take a step forward. I’m messing with her, but she doesn’t think it’s funny at all, which pleases me even more.
She puts her hand out with her palm flat. “One.”
“I’m not a child.”
“Then don’t act like one,” she fires right back.
I take another step forward.
“Two.” She raises a brow. “I’m serious, Travis.”
Another step.
“Three.” She huffs. “I’m not kidding.”
Another step.
“Four.” She releases a groan. “Stop, you’re being annoying.”
I’m uncomfortably close and she shifts on her feet.
“Please,” she whispers. She’s so calm it’s almost scary.
“Tell me why I should,” I say. I’m inches away and can smell her hair and the soap on her skin. Being this close to her is dangerous, but I can’t stop myself.
“You’re an asshole. I can’t handle you today.”
“I don’t think you’ll ever be able to handle me, princess.” I hand her the phone and she rips it out of my hand then storms out of the house. The door slams behind her, and I wonder what I did all those years ago that made her hate me so much.
I walk out and she shakes her head at me before backing out of the driveway and then stomping on the gas. I blow her a kiss and wave.
At the office, it feels like Monday morning on crack. Blake enters with a stack of file folders and by the look on his face, I know what he’s about to tell me isn’t good. He sits the folders on my desk next to the work I have to get done today before I leave if I want to take the day off tomorrow.