* * *
Re: You’re an arsehole
This time I thought of a “re.”
Lainey Summer
PA to Sal Walker
Christianson Walker Ltd.
* * *
I chuckle. Oh, she’s mad.
* * *
Re: Cool down.
I didn’t like your “re.”
So I changed it.
Tyler Christianson
Chief Executive Officer
Christianson Walker Ltd.
* * *
Re: You’re an arsehole
Well I love it. So it stays.
Lainey Summer
PA to Sal Walker
Christianson Walker Ltd.
* * *
Re: You’re an arsehole
Whatever makes you happy, beautiful. Is today dragging for you, too?
Tyler Christianson
Chief Executive Officer
Christianson Walker Ltd.
* * *
Re: You’re an arsehole
Yes. Want to do something Tuesday night?
Lainey Summer
PA to Sal Walker
Christianson Walker Ltd.
* * *
“Tuesday?” I blurt at my screen. It’s Friday. Like in four days? Like after this weekend? I’ll have keeled over by then. Is she mad? My fingers hit the keys hard as I type out my reply.
* * *
Re: You’re an arsehole
How about this weekend?
Tyler Christianson
Chief Executive Officer
Christianson Walker Ltd.
* * *
Too keen? I don’t care. I hit send and wait for her reply. And I hate what I read.
* * *
Re: You’re an arsehole
Sorry, busy.
Lainey Summer
PA to Sal Walker
Christianson Walker Ltd.
* * *
Positively hate it. For one, it’s far too quick a reply, which means she didn’t think twice about revising her plans, and two, because she actually has plans. And they don’t include me. Just like that, she’s busy. The disgusted look on my face isn’t containable.
* * *
Re: You’re an arsehole
Yes. With me.
Tyler Christianson
Chief Executive Officer
Christianson Walker Ltd.
* * *
I go for boldness, rather than beating around the bush. There’s not a cat in hell’s chance I’m waiting until next week. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Miss Summer. I nod to myself, satisfied, and wait for her email of surrender. But it doesn’t come. In fact, no email comes. Not five minutes later, not ten minutes later, and not fifteen minutes later, by which point I’m circling my office trying to decide what to do. Ping. I rush clumsily to my desk, tripping over my feet on the way, and land in my chair in a heap.
* * *
Re: You’re an arsehole
Afraid not.
Lainey Summer
PA to Sal Walker
Christianson Walker Ltd.
* * *
My teeth grate, and I look down at my watch. Gina’s still at lunch. I zip out of my office, down the corridor, and around the corner to Sal’s end of the floor. Lainey’s at her desk, sitting back in her chair staring at her screen and nibbling her lip. She looks up as I pass her desk, going to Sal’s open door and peeking in his office. “Where is he?” I ask, looking to Lainey.
“In the conference room with Violet.”
“Good.” I march over and plant my palms on her desk, leaning in threateningly. She tips back in her chair, wary. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear,” I say, unable to cut the annoyance in my tone. “This weekend you have plans with me.” I can hear myself. I sound like a total arsehole, insane, yet the thought of having to go so long without my fix of Lainey is steering me that way.
“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear,” Lainey retorts, resting her forearms on the desk and getting her face close to mine. “I’m busy.”
“Doing what?”
“That’s none of your business.”
She’s right, of course, but that doesn’t stop me from continuing with my arsehole-like approach to her rejection. She hasn’t technically rejected me, but it still feels like a slap in the face. Isn’t she as desperate as me to have a repeat of last night and this morning? “I’m making it my business.”
She huffs and stands from the desk, picking up her bag. “I don’t think so.” Her legs quickly take her away from my threatening stance. “I have to use my lunch hour to go home and change, since you threw a coffee down my front,” she hisses accusingly, disappearing through the door.
I’m in hot pursuit of her, despite the fact that I’m following her through the main floor where plenty of employees are floating around. Damn it. I catch her up and fall into stride beside her, smiling casually to the people we pass in the corridor and checking over my shoulder to make sure they’re out of earshot before I speak. But then when my opportunity to say something without the risk of being heard is there, I stop and wonder what I should say. My unreasonable demand didn’t go down all too well. Shit, this is weird. I’ve never had to convince a woman that she should go out with me. They’ve always fallen at my feet. They’ve always been the chasers. I don’t like this at all. It’s fucking exhausting, and I’m suddenly very respectful of the women who have found the energy over the years to pursue me. Lainey doesn’t like being told what to do. Okay. Maybe a little diplomacy is the way forward. But tact is hard when you’re as desperate as I am.
I see the elevators up ahead as Lainey marches on, me flanking her. I’m running out of time. A quick scope of the area confirms we’re alone, so I take her arm and stop her. “Lainey, wait.”
She shrugs me off and keeps walking. “I have nothing to say to you.”
That’s a shame, because I have plenty I want to say to her. I pick up my feet and jog after her. “Lainey . . .” My intended words fade when Callie rounds the corner up ahead, her eyes on her phone. She may as well be taking fairy steps she’s walking so slow. The lift will be here, Lainey in it, and gone before Callie makes it past us and it’s safe to talk again.
Lainey reaches forward and calls the elevator, and I throw Callie a dirty look, willing her to hurry the fuck up. The doors open, and it takes everything in me not to physically stop Lainey from walking in.
Callie looks up from her phone as she wanders past. “Hey, Ty.”
“Hey,” I reply quickly and shove my face in my own phone in a ploy to halt any intended conversation. I watch out the corner of my eye as she goes back to her mobile, and I breathe out, relieved . . . but then spot the doors sliding closed, shutting Lainey inside. Without me. My arm shoots out and stops them, and I do the stupidest thing ever. I get in the enclosed space with Lainey and let the doors close. We’re alone. But I have to control myself.