I’m with Meg on a private beach, someplace tropical, where the ocean breeze stirs the leaves on the palm trees and makes her hair dance around her shoulders. The sky is vivid blue and meets the ocean in the distance, and all I can see is sand, sea, endless sky, and this gorgeous woman with her arm around me.
The sound of my alarm wakes me from this amazing dream, and as the buzzing drags me away from her, I hear her sweet voice echo in my head. “I’m so glad you finally fucked me.”
My eyes are wide open now as I make my phone stop chirping and turn to find that the woman hasn’t completely faded. She’s not wearing a bikini with a flower in her hair. In fact, she’s not wearing anything at all—except for the diamond necklace I gave her for her birthday. The piece of jewelry that started all of this.
She’s waking up now, too, thanks to my alarm and having to pull my arm out from under her to turn it off, and as she blinks a few times, she remembers what happened—what we did—and her smile brightens.
“Oh, fuck,” I mutter when my mind catches up with the world around me. Not only did I fuck her, but I also kissed her in front of everyone. The entire staff is going to know what we did. When Leah finds out, she’s going to hang me. How many times have we talked about this, about how me sleeping with employees is the finest way to fuck everything up and have me right back where I was last time?
No, I swore to God I’d never do this again, and I shouldn’t have crossed that line now. Yet, here she is, pulling the sheet around her gorgeous body so she can lean on her hand and smile at me, her beautiful face innocent and unassuming.
“Hi,” she says, using one finger to slowly stroke my arm. “How did you sleep?”
All I can do is shake my head. I’m doing my best not to freak out, but I feel like I’ve fallen under the spell of a minx, and the longer I allow myself to lie here next to her, to pretend like this is okay, the worse it’s going to get.
Memories of all of the shit my ex did to me, shit she was able to get away with because she was my employee, rush through my mind, and all I can say is, “This… was a mistake.”
Meg’s forehead crinkles as she pushes up to a sitting position, staring at me. I need to move, to get out of this bed, to put some distance between us. I swivel around, grab my boxers, and slip them on as she is still processing. I toss her skirt to her about the same time she gets there.
“Mistake?” she echoes. “What do you mean, Hunter? Having sex with me was a mistake?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m sorry, Meg, but we can’t—”
“Meghan!” she shouts at me, and now it’s my turn to be confused. She picks up her skirt but keeps the sheet as she stands up to climb out of bed. She has gone from happy, to shocked, to fucking pissed in about ten seconds, and I am reminded of the night when she spilled that drink on me. You don’t fuck with Meg unless you want to get your ass handed to you. “My name is Meghan! No one calls me Meg.”
I am confused as I thought she liked that nickname, but as she storms into the adjoining office to find the rest of her clothes, I’m left with the realization that she probably did like it up until the very last time I said it. Now, it’s a lie, like everything else I’ve said to her.
She’s in the other room, angrily pulling on her clothes, and I stay back, knowing that I don’t need to see her bare body again. It will make me regret my decision to call this thing off when it’s barely even begun.
“Where the fuck is my shoe?” I hear her ask. Then a banging sound is followed by, “Shit!”
I rush into the room to see her crawling under my desk, and she’s just hit her head really hard on the bottom of it. “Meg—han, are you all right?” I ask.
“What the fuck do you care?” She pulls out, and I see her shoe at the same time she does, over behind a potted plant by the door. I move to get it for her, but she says, “I’ve got it. Wouldn’t want you to get too fucking close to me. We might accidentally end up married.”
“Meghan,” I say, hoping she’ll let me explain. All she does is shake her head, and I know now is not the time. She doesn’t know about my ex, and she doesn’t know about my rules about dating people who work for me.
At least, she didn’t. Until a few minutes ago.
“You might want to go ahead and have one of your backup waitresses come in tonight,” she says, headed for the door. “I think I might’ve caught something from this asshole I hooked up with last night. I’m not feeling well.” She pulls the door open and turns to glare at me before she heads out into the hallway, slamming the door so hard the pictures on the wall shake.
Slumping down onto my couch, I take a few deep breaths. “Well, that went well.” I go over everything that just happened in my head again, and I realize I have been an absolute asshole. I should never have let this happen to begin with, but once it did, I shouldn’t have said anything to her while we were still in bed together. I should have at least had the decency to wait for her to get up, get dressed, maybe even go home and shower. Then I could’ve called her into my office early and said in a calm, polite voice, “We broke one of the cardinal rules of Club Limelight, and that is that I don’t date employees, and here is why.”
Now she’s driving home, she’s mad, and she’s not coming in tonight. Fuck! What if she quits altogether? Am I prepared for that? Do I really want to come to work every day knowing I’m not going to see her gorgeous face across the dance floor or accidentally bump hips with her in the hallway?
“Shit,” I whisper, getting up and heading back to my room to throw my clothes on. I’ve made a horrible mistake, and even though I don’t date employees, I’ve got to find a way to make her calm down until I can explain the situation to her. I can’t just let her go forever.
Either way, I am an absolute asshole who owes her an apology.
With my keys in my hand, I rush out the door, noticing the club seems empty at the moment, which is a rarity. I figure the night janitors are still here somewhere, but I’m glad no one saw her walk of shame, even if everyone knows what we did last night.
I rush to her apartment, hoping I haven’t waited too long, and she’ll at least listen to me. When I reach her door, I pound on it. “Meghan!” I shout, being sure to use her proper name. “We need to talk.” I know she’s here. I saw her deathtrap in the parking lot.
“Go the fuck away, Hunter!” she screams. “I’m busy! I’m online trying to list an enormous diamond necklace for sale. I bet if I sell this fucker, I’ll never have to work again!”
I drop my head into the door, knowing I deserve all of that—for her to sell the gift I gave her and for her to not want to work for me anymore. “Meg, come on! You’ve got to let me explain!” The door next to hers opens, and an old woman holding a cat peers out at me. “We’re just… having a disagreement,” I explain. She shakes her head and disappears.
“You could’ve explained before you said I was a mistake!” Meghan yells, and she’s right on the other side of the door now. “You could’ve at least said good morning. But no, you just had to let me start the day off by telling me how you wished you’d never fucked me!”