He pushes my limits, drives me crazy, and makes me see stars. It’s like mentally and creatively we’re on the same level. He starts with an idea, and I finish it.
It’s the perfect relationship, even though he’s my best-kept secret. I don’t want to admit how much that bothers me.
I love it. I love knowing I can turn him on with a single look. I thrive on the idea that I can climb onto his lap at any time and he would be rock hard in an instant. I’ve never felt as wanted as I do with Branson.
It’s a feeling that exhilarates, but also scares me because I know no other man will ever measure up to him. It’s an all-consuming; mind-blowing infatuation that I know can’t last forever.
But I refuse to look
at tomorrow. I’m living for today. This has been my mantra since we agreed to see each other. The right now is everything I’ve ever wanted, and living in the moment is good enough for me.
The copier room is on the 30th floor, and as I collect my copies and head back to the elevator, I consider on saying hi to Tammy. As I pass the break room the mention of my name makes me stop in my tracks.
“I’m sure of it. Didn’t you see the way he looks at her?” a woman says.
“Riley? The girl that was kicked off our floor?” I hold my breath at the second women’s mention of my name.
My tummy knots into a tight curl, but I can’t get my feet to move.
“Yes, that one. The new girl with the ugly brown hair. She isn’t even pretty. For God’s sake you’re not in fifth grade anymore, cut it into a style.”
My hand unconsciously strokes my hair, hanging loosely over my shoulders.
“Well, you know Branson Carter. If it can spread its legs, it’s on.” Deep down I knew it’s jealousy speaking, but that doesn’t make the words hurt any less.
The second woman chuckles and says in a more hushed tone, “Do you think Miss Weston knows?”
“I doubt it. If she knew we would’ve made a big deal about it. We all would’ve known by now.”
Both women laugh, and I bite back the tears burning at the back of my eyes.
“I bet that’s why she was moved up. It’s easier to have sex on the same floor.”
I cringe at the words, and my throat tightens as I process their words. Was it true? Was this the only reason Branson had moved me? Lisa said it was her decision, but surely this can’t be true.
“I’m telling you, give it a month and Weston’s out on her ass. I think he’s giving the new girl a test drive before putting her in Lisa’s spot.”
“I agree completely. Have you seen her designs?”
As they start discussing my work, I walk away. Even though they compliment my creativity my eyes burn with shame as I hurry toward the elevator, speaking with Tammy is long forgotten.
Was this what everyone thought? That I was screwing Branson to get Lisa’s job?
I take a few deep breaths in the elevator trying to ignore what I’ve just heard. But it isn’t that easy. I want to be respected, not gossiped about.
How do they know about Branson and me? How does anyone know? We’ve kept our affair completely secret. I remember the cleaner who had caught us beneath his desk, but I shove the thought aside. She didn’t even know it was me.
But their words start a sequence of errant thoughts that bug me throughout the day.
Branson walks into my office shortly after six o’clock. “Can I take you to dinner?” he asks awkwardly.
Ever since we’d started seeing each other, we’ve only ever had sex. We’ve shared take out in my apartment once and the dinner in Florida, but that’s it.
My eyebrows rise as I meet his gaze and the conversation I overheard rushes to the front of my mind. What if anyone sees us leave together? But it’s not enough to stop me.
I sigh heavily, give him a smile, and a head nod then grabs my coat and my purse. As I walk out of my office ahead of him, I search for my courage. This wasn’t dinner; this was me needing to end whatever it was I had with Branson.
I would not let our thing interfere with my career. If my colleagues were already whispering about an upcoming promotion because I was screwing the boss, who knew what would be next. I can’t do this. I can’t throw away everything I’ve worked for, for sex. I’ll be known as a whore in the industry, and that’s not what I want.