And to be honest, I like to keep them guessing.
Chrissy, our floor manager and one of our many producers who help run the different online forums and podcasts, walks into the staff room, shaking me from my thoughts. My gaze zeros in on the McDonalds coffee cup in her hand, and I wish I’d thought to stop off and get one on my way in.
I’m always jealous of how professional she looks when she comes into work. She makes the corporate style look fashionable and elegant. Her light blonde hair is tied low at her nape today and crowned with a thin black headband. She has on a white shirt with an open collar, showing off her silver necklaces that match her bracelets. Thrown over her blouse, she has on a loose black blazer, the sleeves crumpled to her elbows. And paired with her black suit trousers, she has on black pointed boots. I sigh, knowing I’ll never look that professional. She might be thirty-five, but she looks twenty-five. She’s smoking hot.
Tonight, I’m wearing ripped jeans and a black T-shirt with ‘AC/DC’ written in washed-out red. They look good with my new biker boots Dad got me after he lost a bet on who could drink the most shots on New Year. What he doesn’t know is some of mine were water.
“Our new boss, Clayton Cross, starts tonight, and he wants to change things up,” Chrissy greets.
Hope blossoms in my chest. “Really? Do you think he’ll give me a new angle for the podcast?”
She bites her bottom lip, her face scrunching up. “I don’t know. We get high ratings through your channel. He won’t want to stop that.”
I groan, stretching back into the softness of the red armchair. It’s midnight and I’m tired, the past week catching up with me.
“Have you met him?”
She shakes her head. “No. Mr Cross had his lawyers deal with the takeover. None of the producers were involved. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to Mr Cross Senior.”
I snatch the coffee out of her hand, taking a gulp. “I thought for sure when Cross Senior left the company to his son that we’d be able to make some changes. Isn’t his son meant to be young?”
She tilts her head. “I’m not sure. I think someone said he was in his late twenties. Don’t quote me though.”
There’s a ruckus out in the hallway before Leana, one of our computer experts, comes barrelling inside, slamming the door shut behind her. Out of breath, she bends over, gripping her knees.
I’m on my feet in seconds, taking a step towards her. However, when she tilts her head up, cheeks flushed, I stop, crossing my arms over my chest and taking a step back.
I know that look.
It’s the look she gets when she’s done something… well, Leana.
“He’s hot,” she pants out, waving her hand at us.
I glance to Chrissy for answers, but she looks just as confused as me. She shrugs and we both turn to look down at Leana, waiting for her to catch her breath. She’s always been nutty. I think sitting at the computer all day and night didn’t help her form any social skills. She reminds me so much of my cousin Charlotte it’s not even funny. Both girls are intelligent beyond belief, and neither have a filter when it comes to speaking their mind. It’s verbal vomit and there’s nothing they do to avoid it.
Leana’s hilarious to work with, especially when she gets flustered over some of the questions she has to read on our online forum. Some of them can be downright dirty.
“Who?” I ask, interested. I’ve waited months for some eye candy to start working here. Ever since Abel left, there’s been no one to ogle.
“Mr Cross,” she screeches, before taking a deep breath. Her shoulders slump. “I think I made a fool out of myself.”
I chuckle before even knowing what she’s done, because I can guarantee it’s comical. “What did you do?”
She glares at my amusement. “One, I’m not liking your tone. Two, it’s nothing.” She tilts her head up, looking to the ceiling.
“Tell us,” Chrissy coaxes, hiding her amusement better than me.
Sighing, Leana snatches the coffee cup from me, taking a swig.
Chrissy groans. “I knew I should have called for all your orders before coming in.”
I wave her off, staring Leana down. “Come on, spill.”
“Bloody hell. Okay. I went to go greet our new boss, first impressions and all that. I took some coffee and muffins and forgot to knock on the door. I didn’t think he’d be in yet since we were closed this morning. The main segment doesn’t start for another hour. I wasn’t prepared,” she whisper-hisses, her face turning bright red again.
“What did you do?” I ask, holding back the laughter.
Her head downcast, she slides the tip of her foot back and forth along the carpet. “He spoke, and I was startled at how sexy he sounded. I looked up and I just froze, staring at this… this godlike man. I mean, model worthy man. I’m pretty sure he starred in one of my wet dreams,” she rattles on, staring off into space.
“Do women have wet dreams?” Chrissy asks from the corner of her mouth.
I shrug. “I’ve woken up mid-orgasm, if that counts.”
“Listen!” Leana yells, quickly looking towards the door like someone is going to burst in.
“Go on,” I order, sitting down on the arm of the chair.
She tightens her ponytail, taking a deep breath. “So yeah, I was too shocked over his appearance, and then he yelled at me.”
“He yelled at you?” I ask, standing up again. Job or no job, I’ll put him in his place. Leana is one of the sweetest and kindest people I know. It kind of makes me sick. Still, no one has the right to yell at her.
“Yes!” She throws her hands up, still red as a beetroot. “I didn’t know my left from my right, I was that out of it. I rushed over to introduce myself and give him his coffee and muffins, and I fell.”
I cringe, seeing where this is going. Only Leana could do that.
“Are you okay?” Chrissy asks, unable to look at Leana head-on.
“Am I okay? I fell into his lap! Face first!” she screeches.
I press my lips together to keep myself from bursting into hysterics, but it’s no use. Laughter spills out of me and I bend forward, clutching my stomach.
“Oh my Gosh,” Chrissy murmurs, her laughter more dignified than mine. I’m pretty sure I’ve snorted twice.
“It’s not funny! I went to apologise—while I was still in his lap. My mouth was around his very large appendage.”
I fall back into the chair, laughing uproariously. “Leana, you have made my day.”
“He’s going to fire me, isn’t he?” she asks, sounding so defeated I laugh harder.
I wipe at my eyes, straightening in the chair. “No, but you should be worried about Stewart.”
Her eyes go round. “Oh my God, do you think he’ll think I cheated on him?”
Getting up, I walk over. I rub her arm, still struggling to hold back my laughter. “Nope. You have nothing to worry about there.”
“Do I pay you to stand around and talk?”
“Mr Cross,” Leana squeaks.
My back is to the person with the warm, smoky voice that slides down my spine. My stomach swirls and my heart races. It’s pure sex. Husky with a slight hint of a London accent.