“I don’t know, sir. I don’t work for the airlines. You can ask them if you want,” she snapped, and then winced slightly and rubbed her lower abdomen.
“Is there something that you’re not telling me, Ms. Waldron? Are you on your feminine time of the month or something?”
“My feminine time of the month?” She started laughing. “Really? I don’t even know if that’s legal for you to ask me that question.”
“Well, I take it back then, Ms. Waldron.”
“Look, if you really want to know …”
“I really do.”
“I got a bikini wax, okay? And it hurts because having the hairs ripped out of your body hurts.”
“You had a bikini wax?”
I looked down and then back up to her face. Why had she gotten a bikini wax? Did she really have a boyfriend? This morning she’d made a comment about banging some guy, but that was a joke. She was single. Everything she’d said led me to believe she was single. But if she was single, why was she getting a bikini wax?
“And was there a reason for that, Abby?”
“Am I Abby or am I Ms. Waldron?” she huffed. “You confuse me.”
“Which one would you rather be?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Is there anything that you need for me to do right now? I finished going over those documents. I’ve notated where I think you should respond. And if you really don’t want to fly to England first, I need to go back and check and see if there are any other flights that I missed that are going directly to Edinburgh on Saturday.”
“Tell me more about this bikini wax.”
“Really? That’s not very professional.”
“But it wasn’t very professional of you to tell me about it, was it?”
“You kept asking me why I was walking like that, so I told you.”
“So I assume it’s been a while since you’ve had one, then?”
“Why would you assume that?”
“Because it hurts this much.”
“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re a man. You have no idea what it feels like. It hurts every single time, thank you very much.”
“And you got this bikini wax because why? You have a date?”
“Yeah, I have a date, a hot, sexy date tonight.” She smirked at me. “You’re not the only one that has dates, Mr. McAllister.”
“I see.”
I was furious, but I wasn’t going to let her see that. Who was her date with and why did she think that it was acceptable to go on a date on the same night that I was going on a date? I couldn’t even tell her that we had to work. I frowned slightly as I realized that I wanted to stop her date. Her dating life had nothing to do with me. I needed to remember that.
“Well, have a great time this evening, Ms. Waldron. I’m sure that the bikini wax won’t go to waste.”
“Thank you, Mr. McAllister.” She gave me a narrow smile. “I’m sure your roses will also be loved by Lucretia.”
“I’m sure she’ll love more than the roses,” I replied.
We stared at each other in what felt like a standoff for a moment before she walked back to her desk.
I sat there tapping my pen against the table. I wanted to know more about her date. Where was she going? Who was it with? Was she going to let him go down on her? Was she going to sleep with him? Was she …
It was none of my business. She was only my secretary. Just because she looked hot the other night didn’t mean anything. It meant absolutely nothing, and I had to remind myself of that fact. I was not going to let Abby Waldron get under my skin.
I realized I was getting hard just sitting here thinking about her. I stood up. “I have to go now.”
“Um, but you have a phone call this afternoon—”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Reschedule everything. Something just came up.”
“Um, okay. Should I reschedule your date with Lucretia as well?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Of course not.” I ran my hand through my hair as I walked over to the desk to look down at her. “Lucretia will enjoy every single second of it.” I grinned. “And when I say every single second, I mean every single second.”
“Okay, Mr. McAllister. Whatever you say.” She looked back down at her desk. “Have a good day.”
“You too, Ms. Waldron. You too.”
And with that, I walked out of the office and down the elevator, calling for my driver on the way. What was I doing? Why had I let her get to me? Ms. Waldron was fast getting on my nerves. And if she kept it up, I was going to have to fire her.
“So, Dylan, did I tell you that I’m going to Milan next week? I’m going to be in the show for Sergio Meyer Johnson …”
Lucretia babbled on. She looked as beautiful as ever, but I could not concentrate on the conversation we were having. All I could think about was Abby. Where was she? Was she on her date right now? Was it going well? I frowned. How dare she get into my head like this?
“Dylan, are you listening to me?” Lucretia’s whiny voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Yes, darling.” I reached my hand over and placed it on top of hers and squeezed. “I was just thinking about what a lovely evening this is.
“Oh, it is absolutely divine, darling,” she said with a smile and picked up one of the roses from the vase. “And these are beautiful. Thank you. So thoughtful.”
“I’m glad you like them.” My eyes fell on the beautiful long-stemmed red roses.
“Yes, I love red roses. They represent love,” she said in an airy voice.
I stared at her blankly. She couldn’t really believe that I was in love with her, could she? This was only our third date. I hadn’t even fucked her and the way this date was going, I might not even want to.
“So, Dylan, I was just saying I’m going to be in Sergio Meyer Johnson’s runway show. Isn’t that amazing?”
“Yes, very amazing.”
“You know what this means, don’t you?”
“No.”
“It most probably means that I’ll get invited to Kahn’s next year because he dresses all the top actors and actresses and models. And well, if I’m seen in his show, that’s it, I’ve made it.”
“But haven’t you already made it? You’re a supermodel.”
“I mean, yeah, but this is next level. I’ll most probably be …” She paused. “Well, I mean, if you don’t want me to go, of course I won’t.”
“Why wouldn’t I want you to go?”
“Because there will be all sorts of men that will be after me and wanting me. You know, I’m a hot commodity now.”
“Okay.” If she was telling me this information to make me jealous, it wasn’t working.
“So, Dylan?”
“Yes, Lucretia?” I was fast becoming bored of the entire conversation. I just wanted to leave and call Abby and tell her that we had some work to do. I needed to find out, of course, if she’d gotten the tickets to Edinburgh. I needed to find out if she booked a hotel room, and we needed to make some plans for the trip. I needed to know where she was staying so that I could have a car pick her up. I needed—