I gulp as the two men leave. Four months. I’ll never survive them.
Chapter Eight
Ava
“Ava, wait for me,” Sebastian calls from behind me the following Monday. I push the button to keep the elevator doors open and give Sebastian a small smile as he enters. Instinctively, I take a step back before his scent can overwhelm me. This man sneaks pheromones in his cologne, I swear. I gulp, looking straight at the doors.
When we reach our floor and the doors open, Sebastian holds out his arm, “Ladies first.”
Several mishaps occur as I step out of the elevator. First, my heel gets caught in the tiny space between the elevator floor and the actual floor. I lose my balance and fall on all fours. The cherry on the top? My skirt flies up to my waist. I desperately reposition my skirt, then turn to look at Sebastian. I’ve given him a full view of my granny-period panties. I know this because his eyes widen—and not in a good way, but in a what-decade-are-you-lost-in way. I groan, and this seems to snap him back to his gentlemanly ways, because he steps out of the elevator and helps me up.
“So, is this a trick to get you in my arms?” he murmurs, his hands on my arms. I shake him off, mouthing a quick thank you and scurrying to my office. Behind the safety of the closed door, I slump in my seat and swear. The day Sebastian Bennett sees my ass, I’m wearing granny panties.
Just my luck.
Now I feel obligated to show him that particular asset in a more appealing light too. Jesus, Ava. Where did that thought come from? He definitely doesn’t need to see your ass again. Maybe the sight has put him off me. As depressing as that thought is, it’s for the best.
I distract myself from the mishap with e-mails and phone calls, and it works. Until after lunch, that is, when I can’t postpone a trip to Sebastian’s office any longer. I need to discuss some things with him before bringing my ideas to the table for the next campaign.
***
Determined to ignore the morning incident, I walk into his office and sit on the chair in front of his desk. The problem is, the second our gazes meet, I notice the twinkle in his eyes, accompanied by a bona fide smirk. I can practically see my god-awful panties reflected in his pupils. Opening my mouth, I intend to say, Thank you for taking your time to discuss this. Other words come out instead. “I don’t usually wear granny panties.”
Sebastian bursts out laughing, plunking his forearms on the wood desk. “What do you wear?”
“Normal stuff. Modern stuff.”
How did I get myself in this conversation? My mouth is definitely not connected to my brain today. Or maybe my brain stopped working altogether, letting hormones take over.
I pull myself straighter and try again. This time, the right words come out. “I want to talk to you about the campaign.”
To
his credit, Sebastian stops laughing, though the twinkle still dances in his eyes. Damn him. We spend about an hour discussing my agenda.
“We can wrap up this conversation. I’ll draft up the next steps and meet with the team.”
He gives me a nod. “You’re very efficient. I like it.”
I smile, wanting to get out quickly now that the meeting is over. I’m sure my brain will come up with a few more ways to embarrass me if I stay here too long.
“Ava,” Sebastian calls when I’m at the door.
“Yes?”
“If you think I can’t imagine exactly what is underneath your granny panties, you’re wrong. I still want to know what kind of modern stuff you usually wear. And I will find out.”
Chapter Nine
Sebastian
My words have precisely the effect I want on her. A delicious blush spreads on her neck, visible even from here. I smile long after she leaves, remembering her outburst when she entered the office. I discover something new about her every day. During our first lunch, I had a sneak peek of the vulnerable layers hiding behind her laughter. Today, I learned she also could be a complete goofball, which is adorable and hilarious, since she works so hard to keep up her image of consummate businesswoman. I like that she doesn’t have a stick up her ass. I cannot help but relax in her presence. She’s playful, without playing mind games. Most of all, I am the one pursuing her. I’m so tired of women pursuing me, their eyes on my wallet and social position.
My phone rings. Dad is calling. I pick up immediately. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hello, son. Am I interrupting you?”
“Not at all. I have time for a little chat.”