Booty Call(10)

By: Amy Brent

I didn’t have much longer to get through at Helios before I would be back to my real life once more. But for now, I just had to keep focused on my work and do my best not to get caught up in the memories I had of the man just a few floors above me.

I sighed and leaned back, running my fingers through my hair. I was irritated with myself. I just wanted this to be done with already. I mean, as long as he was here, in this building, so close to me, I knew I was going to have a hard time getting past the fact that he…well, all of it, really. Was this just a rebound? It was meant to be nothing more than a reminder that Matt wasn’t the only man who wanted me, and it had certainly cemented itself as a permanent reminder of that much, at least. But was there something more? The way he had looked at me right before I left, there had been something there. Not a lot, but maybe enough?

Enough for what? That was the question. Because the answer didn’t matter – nothing was going to happen between. How many women had he been through the same way he had gone through me? His confidence, his coolness, his class – you didn’t pull that off on the first try. He must have done that a dozen times before, a hundred, and to think that I was something special, something different for him, that was just arrogance.


I lifted my head, blinking to dismiss the thoughts that have been running through my head. Freda was standing above me, hands on hips, looking down at me with the same concern she had had in her eyes yesterday.

“Yeah?” I asked, plastering a big smile on my face.

“Nathan needs to see you upstairs,” she jerked her head upwards. “You alright? You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, I just had a busy night last night,” I replied, getting to my feet. I was running on autopilot because all I could think of was that Nate wanted to see me. What did he want? What did he need?

“I need you back down here as soon as you can make it,” She nodded. I returned it.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I promised, and headed for the elevator. My mind was racing. Hat the hell was going on?

I arrived back upstairs, in front of his office door, and remembered that last time I had all but crashed straight into him. If I did that now, I couldn’t imagine holding myself back. I might just have to close the door behind me and see if we could turn this one-time thing into a two-time thing.

I knocked on the door, and he called from me inside to enter: the sound of his voice sent a long shiver up my spine, the kind that felt deep and dark and significant. I took a deep breath and opened the door; I could do this. I could be professional. Every jot of chemistry we’d had was left behind in that apartment building and that was all that mattered. At least, that’s what I told myself before I laid eyes on him once more.

He glanced up and I noticed at once that he hadn’t shaved that morning – his stubble was dark against his sharp jaw, and I wondered if he’d slept in that morning, if he’d woken up too tired to bother with maintenance.

“Close the door,” he nodded behind me, and I did as I was told, heart beating fasting. Could he read me that clearly? Could he tell how badly I wanted this? I turned back to him.

“You said you wanted to see me?” I remarked, slowly lifting my gaze to meet his. “Mr Richards?”

He seemed to bristle when I called him that and I enjoyed his reaction more than I would have cared to admit.

“Yeah, I need to go over these numbers with you,” he nodded, his gaze lingering on me for a second longer than it necessarily needed to before he pulled out the papers that I had dropped off yesterday from his desk. He laid them down on the desk in front of him and I raised my eyebrows.

“What’s the issue?” I asked. I knew I had gotten those numbers spot-on. The only reason he would be getting me up here to discuss them would be if…if he just wanted to see me again. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

“It’s this, right here,” he pointed at the papers and I leaned over to get a look; I was so close to him that I could have tilted my head just so and our lips would have touched, and that would have been it. He seemed as aware of it as I was, swallowing heavily like he was trying to hide from himself, hide the fact that he wanted this. Or maybe I was just reading to far into this. Maybe there really was a problem.

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