I put my face in my hands as I slumped down in my chair.
He should be back from his dentist appointment any moment. I was already on the verge of hyperventilating. All I could do was profusely apologize and hope he didn’t fire me. My job was stressful and kind of chaotic at times, but I enjoyed working for him. If he fired me, where would I go? Anyplace I applied at after this would want to know my reason for leaving the advertising agency, and I’d probably be marked as a pervert or something and never find work in the industry again—
“Reed?”
Well, there went my heart. It shot from my chest and broke through the ceiling at his voice. I glanced up at him.
“Yes, Mr. Sawyer?”
“In my office,” he said before going inside the room, leaving the door open for me.
Come on. You can do this.
My attempt at self-motivation did nothing for my shaky legs as I stood and walked across the room toward his office. Each step closer got harder and harder to take, as if my feet were submerged in wet concrete. And don’t even get me started on my breathing, or better yet, lack thereof. I couldn’t suck enough air into my lungs.
“Close the door,” Daniel said once I was inside his office. His expressionless face gave nothing away. I couldn’t tell if he was mad or not.
“Y-Yes, sir.” With my whole body shaking, I closed the door and stepped farther into the room. And then, because I tended to ramble when I was nervous, my mouth opened and a bunch of shit fell out. “About last night, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to send that to you. You see, I was talking to this guy. Sexting, really. And yeah, I know it’s not exactly classy to send texts like that to anyone but—”
“Enough.” He held up a hand, and I snapped my mouth shut. “Accidents happen. I messaged you on your personal phone. It’s not like you were… sexting, as you put it… from a work computer or during work hours. I’ve texted the wrong person once or twice before as well.”
I could’ve collapsed from relief. He didn’t seem mad at all. If anything, he seemed as awkward as me, though he held his composure way better than I did.
“You’re not gonna fire me?” I asked, my voice a higher pitch than normal.
Damn nerves.
“No, I’m not firing you.” Daniel took a step toward me. He was a good four to five inches taller than me, making me tilt my head up to meet his hard, blue eyes. “Let’s not ever discuss this again. It happened, and we’ve addressed it. Now we need to move past it. Agreed?”
I nodded, too frazzled to speak.
“Good.” He came even closer, and my whole body tingled in response. My lips parted as my eyes fell to his mouth and his sharp jawline. He took another step toward me, and I was more than prepared to let him touch me. Fuck me. I didn’t care. He reached forward, his arm brushing mine… and opened the door behind me. “I have a meeting to prepare for.”
“Oh.” I cleared my throat and did my best to calm my stupid racing heart. My face was on fire. Had I really expected my boss to come on to me after just saying we didn’t need to talk about the sexting incident ever again? What was wrong with me? I definitely had a few screws loose somewhere. “Right. I’ll, uh, get to work.”
“You do that,” he said, not taking his eyes off me. And fuck, he was still standing so close. Close enough for me to smell his cologne and get just a hint of mint toothpaste, probably from his cleaning at the dentist.
With my face scorching hot, I turned away from him and walked to my desk, praying I didn’t trip on my way there. It would be my luck to embarrass myself even further. When I looked back at his office, the door was closed.
I jumped when my phone buzzed.
Quinn: How did it go? Have you talked to him?
Me: Yeah. I didn’t get fired. Yay.
Quinn: See? I told you.
Me: I should probably stop texting so he doesn’t change his mind.
Quinn: Okay. Ttyl.
Another message came through, this one from my social media account. I looked at it and heaved a sigh. It was from Monty and consisted of two lines of eggplants, followed by a water spurting emoji at the end, along with a message that read, “Ask your boss if he likes dick, er, I mean eggplants.”
I texted Quinn.
Me: I’m going to kill your boyfriend.
Quinn: I just slapped him for you. He’s sitting next to me laughing like a moron.
As high school teachers, they were off work for winter break until next week, so they were probably lazing around the house and being their typical, lovey-dovey selves.
I put my phone away and focused on my computer. A shadow moved under the other side of Daniel’s door before the door opened and he walked out of his office and down the hall, not sparing me a second glance.
The sad truth?
Sending him that text had been an accident, but I really did want to suck his cock. My insane attraction to him was one of the reasons I’d been so mortified.
But like he’d said, it was in the past. No need to think on it anymore.
Chapter Four
Daniel
My already inappropriate attraction to my assistant had grown even more intense.
When I’d received his text last night saying he wanted to suck my cock and make me come, I had instantly hardened. But then ethics had kicked in, and instead of replying to his text with an equally raunchy one, I instead questioned him.
And thank fuck for that because the text hadn’t even been meant for me. Which was a relief but also somewhat of a downer.
Each time we interacted for the rest of the day, Reed downcast his eyes. Awkward was an understatement. The next day was better. By Wednesday, things seemed to be back to normal, or as normal as they could be after the sexting mishap.
“Good morning, Mr. Sawyer,” Reed said, placing a cup of coffee on my desk. “You have a meeting with the Wylie representatives at ten to present the final product, and a status meeting at eleven thirty with the graphic design team.”
I nodded. “I’m having lunch with a client today, so make sure my schedule is clear between noon and two.”
“Yes, sir.” Reed tucked his hair behind his ear, which drew my attention to his hand as it slowly fell down his pale neck and back to his side.
I shifted in my seat and hardened my expression—though something else hardened too, much to my dismay. “That will be all.”
I inwardly cursed myself for checking out his ass when he turned to leave my office. He was dressed in tight black pants and a cream blouse-type shirt that hung a little on the sides and swooped to form a V-neck.
Reed had been texting another man when he’d accidentally messaged me. So he was into men. Which so didn’t help me any. It would’ve been a lot easier if he was straight. At least then, I’d accept that nothing would ever happen between us.
“Nothing will happen,” I grumbled to myself.
And I’d rehearse that like a goddamn mantra if I needed to in order to believe it.
After checking my email and responding to the urgent messages, I reviewed project mockups from the marketing department and requested edits on others before heading to my first meeting of the day.
Most of my time was devoted to managing projects, public relations, and overseeing the work of the design team and implementing the best marketing strategies. For years, I had worked in the creative field and actually designed campaigns and submitted pitches. I had been bright-eyed and filled with grand ideas back then, desperate to make my dreams come true.