I hated to admit it, the guy wasn’t as big of an ass as I’d thought. He was quite the charmer and very likeable. Much of his conversation was business, but he had a wry wit that he’d liked to deliver with the perfect deadpan and a straight face. If I didn’t pay close attention, I might have missed some of his drollest remarks. But his pearly white grin always gave away his jokes. Once the team got to know him, Garrett quickly became a beloved member.
I was elated with the change in his attitude. I was a step closer to achieving the target in the customer survey pillar.
At the end of the fourth week, Garrett alerted me to an incoming invitation for a meeting with the officers and executive team. Sure enough, one hour later, we received the invitation. It was inconsiderate to request an update on such short notice, but given the extraordinary events we were going through, it wouldn’t have made a difference.
He also mentioned that in the past, it had been a bloodbath, and because he had experience with the audience, he suggested we prepare the presentation together.
We met in Garrett’s office. It was clear from the look on his face that he was as unhappy to put together a presentation on such short notice. I hoped he now understood my anger at his last-minute status request.
I took a seat at the conference table while he stood at the small wet bar. He frowned and typed furiously on his phone. He put it down, and the sound of light jazz filled the office.
“Is everything okay?”
“I reached out for clarification on the goals of this meeting. It was like pulling teeth to get an answer.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I have alkaline, sparkling, or spring water. Which would you like?”
“Alkaline, please.”
Fortunately for me, when he opened the mini-fridge, he leaned into it, giving me a complete mind-blowing view of his body. He was the way I liked ‘em—not too bulky and not too lean. The fabric of his button-down shirt stretched across his torso, and I imagined ripples of well-defined muscles underneath. My eyes followed the lines of his athletic body down to the perfectly fitted navy slacks. The fabric contoured to his thigh muscles, displaying an ass so firm that you could bounce a quarter off of it.
Even when he’d acted like a jackass, I’d delighted in staring at him. He was a beautiful man.
Damn it. I’m not supposed to like this guy.
This was a low point in the life of Jasmine Carmichael. I didn’t ogle coworkers or fantasize about what they looked like naked. I was a professional—but damn, if I wasn’t a woman with needs.
Get your head in the game, Jazzy. There’s a lot of work on your plate.
He stepped over to the small, round table and placed the bottles of water on coasters.
That’s when he did it. His left hand unbuttoned his right sleeve, and he carefully folded the cuff to his inner elbow. He then folded the bottom until it reached the top of his cuff, revealing the cords rippling through his muscular, tanned forearms.
My heart raced, and as much as I tried, I couldn’t look away. The small, effortless move was so sexy. A short exhalation left my chest as I stared.
Yeah. We’ll be getting a lot of work done.
Still standing, he smoothed the edges of the folds. He smirked in an annoyingly self-confident way that dampened my panties. Then he repeated the action on his right arm. This time, he met my gaze and took his time rolling the sleeve, flexing the muscles in his forearms when he did it.
He knew he was turning me on. And he enjoyed it!
My god. Could this be more embarrassing? I imagined that I appeared wide-eyed and breathless while I squirmed in my seat.
This celibacy thing wasn’t working for me. Ten months was far too long to go without dick. I wasn’t a nun or remotely pious. Travel for work put a damper on all romantic relationships. Every week, I was on an early Monday morning flight to a client site. Then, by late morning on Friday, I was back on the plane to Atlanta. I would collapse into my seat, exhausted. Then I’d spend the weekend preparing for my next week of travel and loading up on homemade food. It was difficult meeting a man, let alone keeping him interested.
Damn, I’d take some time for myself tonight. I’d been neglecting my sexual needs and had now developed fantasies about my surly coworker conquering and controlling me. Popping one off was the only way I’d make it through this project without straddling his lap and humping him.
I did a small shake of my head to clear my mind of the dirty thoughts running through it. He held my gaze and slid into the chair to my right. My brain performed an act of mental gymnastics to prepare a reasonable explanation.
“I think we have the same watch. Hermès for Apple? How do you like it?” The words came out fast and desperate, far from my desired cheerful intent.
“It’s great.” He smiled, amused. He should do that more. Far too often, he appeared distracted and stormy, but his smile bathed me in sunlight.
“Yeah. I don’t wear mine for working out, because I don’t want to ruin it. Do you wear yours? I wear an old school heart rate monitor that straps across my chest. How do you record metrics from your workouts? I only ask because you look like you exercise. I’m assuming that you work out.” Everything I said was word vomit, dispensed in rapid-fire succession. What should have been a ripple, turned into a flood of words.
What. The. Fuck?
He gave me another smile, and this time, it was calming.
“I also wear a heart rate monitor. Mine has an armband. It automatically downloads to my phone. I’m a member of the Chicago Running Club, and I’m part of a lifting squad. It’s a group of guys who inspire me to make gains in my weight workouts.”
“I didn’t mean to be in your business. I don’t want to keep you longer than necessary. Why don’t we begin with talking through the root cause procedures?”
“Great idea.” He opened his laptop and peered over the top. “Jasmine, I don’t mind if you ask personal questions. It’s nice to take a break from the business.”
I should’ve spoken out and said something. Instead, I nodded, then cleared my throat. “I’ll share my desktop with you.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I granted Garrett permission to view my screen and created a new presentation using the ER Wallace template. Garrett and I plugged in the data we’d received from Lilah and discussed which points to add. He sat within an arm’s length and I caught faint whiffs of his woody, aromatic aftershave. Mmm. It did nothing for my now drenched panties. Garrett Hamilton was a man. I was usually smooth and practiced, but around Garrett, I was transformed into that young girl wearing braces with colored bands who had a massive crush on Neil deGrasse Tyson.
My brain was in a fog, and typos riddled my usually accurate typing. A task that should have taken thirty minutes took over an hour.
When I finished the final slides, I nodded that it was ready for his approval.
“Perfect. We’ve made quite the team,” he said.
I looked down to disguise the flush I felt rolling a path from my ears to my mouth. Yep. I feel like the geeky college freshman tutoring the senior football player.
The presentation was a success. Nic lobbed several hardball questions, but thanks to Garrett's foresight, we’d prepared for all scenarios. Like a petulant child, she narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms before falling back in her chair.