“But keep me posted on your neighbors. And if you run into them, try to get a picture.”
“Yes, because if you’re going to masturbate over my neighbors, it would go better with pictures.” I nodded sarcastically. “You’re a pervert. You know that, right?”
Grace shrugged and stood. “It was better than porn.”
She was right. I just hoped it wasn’t a regular show I was going to get. If nothing else, I felt plenty inadequate at work. I didn’t need to have the same feeling at home.
Chapter 2
Max
Harper Jayne was really pissing me off.
She’d irritated me from the moment she’d started work almost two months ago. Up until now I’d managed to keep my distance.
She was smart. That wasn’t a problem.
And she got on with her co-workers well enough. I couldn’t complain.
She didn’t seem to mind helping Donna with the photocopier. There were no delusions of grandeur for me to moan about.
She was eager to learn. That had been one of the first things that grated on me. She was too eager. The way she looked at me with those big brown eyes as if she’d be willing to do just about anything I suggested was maddening. Every time I glanced at her, even if it was a glimpse of her in the kitchen as I came into the office, I imagined her sliding to her knees in my office, opening her red, wet mouth, and begging for my cock.
And that was a problem.
I always had a strict divide between my business life and my personal life, and there’d never been any exception. I was the boss, with a reputation to protect. I didn’t want my personal life to ever be more interesting that my business life.
I tapped my pen against my desk. I needed to figure this out. Either fire her or forget about her. But I needed to do something.
I found myself spending more and more time in my office with the door closed in an attempt to create some distance between Harper and me. Ordinarily, I’d spend time out on the floor with people, checking in on how things were going. But the open-plan area felt like contaminated land. When I had to interact with her, I addressed her as Ms. Jayne as a way of keeping her at arm’s length. It wasn’t working. I pushed my hands into my hair. I needed a plan. I couldn’t have some junior researcher changing the way I did business, because the way I did business had meant King & Associates was the best at what they did, and the whole of Wall Street knew it.
Distractions were the last thing I needed right now. My focus was split enough as it was. Living with Amanda full time was more challenging than I’d expected and it meant a lot more time out of the office as I spent more time in Connecticut. I was also trying to land a new account with an investment bank King & Associates hadn’t worked for before, and I had a key meeting with an insider coming up.
“Come in,” I called to the knock at the door, hoping it wasn’t Harper with her revised report.
“Good morning, Max,” Donna said as she entered my office, closing the door behind her.
“Thanks.” I took the tall cup of coffee she offered to me, trying to read her face. “How are you?”
“I’m good. We have a lot to get through.” We had a daily lunchtime briefing.
I reached for my collar. “Is it me, or is it hotter in here than normal?”
Donna shook her head. “No, and I’m not turning up the A/C, either. It’s ridiculously cold in here.”
I sighed. It wasn’t worth arguing with Donna about. Most things weren’t. That was what I’d learned from the women in my life—pick your battles.
“So,” Donna said as she slipped into the seat in front of my desk. The same chair Harper had sat in on Friday. Harper had sat with her legs crossed and her arms fixed to the arms of the chair, almost as if she were bracing herself for a bumpy landing. But it had given me a perfect view of her high tight breasts and her long brown hair sitting gently on her shoulders.
“What’s going on?” Donna asked.
“Huh?” I asked, glancing up to look at her.
“Are you okay? You seem distracted.”
I shook my head and leaned back in my chair. I needed to focus. “I’m fine. I just have a million things going on in my head. It’s going to be a busy week.”
“Okay then, let’s get started. You have a lunch tomorrow with Wilson at D&G Consulting. It’s fixed for twelve at Tribeca Grill.”
“I suppose we can’t cancel?” Wilson was a competitor and such an egomaniac that canceling would be a problem. And because he couldn’t help but be a braggart, I usually got some useful information from our lunches.
“Yes, it’s too late. You’ve canceled the last three times.”
“And we can’t go to Joey’s?”
Donna just raised her eyebrows. I sighed as I reminded myself this was another battle not worth fighting.
“And Harper wanted some time this afternoon as she’s revised her report.”
I started to click at my calendar. I’d seen Harper on Friday. I needed to be seeing less of her not more.
“What are you doing? I have your calendar right here.” She pointed to her tablet. “You have time this afternoon at four.”
“I don’t think we need a meeting. She should just leave what she’s done with you, and I’ll look at it when I can.” I stared down at my notepad, writing down Lunch with Wilson for no particular reason.
“You usually like a follow-up meeting.”
“I’m busy and haven’t got time to go through work that’s probably not good enough.” That was unfair. Harper’s work hadn’t been bad. It had some mistakes in it, but nothing I wouldn’t expect of someone who’d never worked with me before—the quality I was used to from new junior researchers was far sloppier and I was demanding, I knew that. She hadn’t managed to get hold of Donny, but he was a hierarchical son of a bitch. Asking her to speak to him was asking an almost impossible task.
Turns out she was good at her job—she’d even had some really creative insights—so it didn’t look as though she was going to give me a reason to fire her any time soon.
That could be a problem.
“Was the report really that bad?” Donna asked.
“No, but I don’t need her sitting there watching me read it through, either.” I’d found it utterly distracting on Friday, having her just a couple of yards away. I could barely concentrate because I’d been trying to place her scent—a kind of musky, sexy smell. The way her hands had gripped and then loosened around the arms of the chair—I found myself getting hard at the thought of those hands sliding down my chest and around my cock.
Fuck, she was a problem.
“Especially if you’re going to make me have lunch with Wilson,” I added when I glanced at Donna and she was looking at me with narrowed eyes. I didn’t want her asking any more questions about Harper, even if it was about the quality of her work.
She took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t want to speak out of turn—”
“Then don’t,” I snapped. What was she going to say? Could she tell I was treating Harper differently? That I was attracted to her?