At this point, I’m fuming. My workload has doubled, but my pay hasn’t. I grit my teeth, and it takes everything I have to speak calmly. “Thank you for the opportunity. I won’t let you down.”
I’m fucking pissed but try to push it back.
“I knew you’d be able to handle it,” Blake says, but I know his endgame. It’s to smear my reputation and change the way the executives perceive me. He has always pushed me and has set me up for failure many times, but even with all the bitch work, I’ve proved him wrong every time. Since my first week at Crawford Marketing, he’s had it out for me. I know my confidence can be intimidating, but he can fuck off.
The conversation is clearly over, so I stand and give him a shit-eating grin before I walk back to my office. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me spin out of control.
The best motivation is when someone says or insinuates that I can’t do something. I might be a fucking zombie by the end of the next quarter, but at least I’ll have kicked major ass and shown Sloan that I’m a hard worker in the process.
Nine o'clock rolls around, and I’m tempted to cancel the meeting with Alyssa, but the truth is, I need to know what she’s completed and what she hasn’t. So after I send a few emails and try to rush through my normal duties, I stand, grab my laptop, and stroll to her office. She’s the only one on our floor with a corner office that has windows that line an entire wall. There’s a small conference table and a couch. Why she needs all of the space, no one knows, and considering her title, she sure hasn’t earned any of it. The managers on the floor secretly hate her, but they put up with it because of who she is and the full helping of tits she provides each day. I’m surprised people don’t offer her twenty-dollar bills when she leaves the building for the show she puts on during business hours.
I walk in and close the door, and she’s sitting at her desk with her silk shirt unbuttoned, displaying her full breasts. I guess she came to work braless today. I’m sure all the women will be talking about her nipples in the break room over coffee. I almost laugh thinking about it.
“Hey, baby,” she purrs as I take a few steps forward. She’s a tigress on the prowl.
“Hey,” I say, but she can tell by my tone that I’m not having it today.
She pouts, sticking her bottom lip out, and begins talking like a baby. “Oh no. Someone’s not happy. What can I do to help you?”
I grab her hand, knowing she’s waiting for me to touch her. “I’m sorry. I’m not having a good day.”
She places her other hand on the button of my pants and undoes it along with the zipper. “I know what will make you feel better.” Alyssa drops to her knees and runs her hand over my soft cock. Seeing her like this isn’t even making me hard. Great, Viola has officially broken my dick. Alyssa notices I’m not hard then stands and crosses her arms over her tits. Concern flashes over her face.
“What happened?” Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard. “Who should I tell Daddy to fire?”
I tilt my head and look at her for a split second, realizing she’s not as dumb as she pretends to be and maybe I’m the one being played all along. How the hell did I get myself into this situation? Usually, I know a mark when I see one, but somehow, I got it all wrong. Maybe I was her mark.
“I’m not having a good day. That’s it. I actually want to be alone. I’m sorry, baby. It’s not you. You know I think you’re gorgeous.” And she is a pretty girl. I’m not lying when I say that, but she’s not the pretty girl I want to fuck. I’ve been there and done that, and the allure of having her is gone. For a moment, my thoughts travel back to Viola in the mudroom, and I swallow hard, pushing those thoughts out of my head.
Alyssa buttons her shirt, and I zip and button my pants. Just as I finish, Blake opens the door to her office as we are standing there, more than a foot apart, and completely dressed. Thank God.
“Yes? Can’t you see we are busy?” Alyssa snarls. I actually like the way she talks to him, but he pays her no attention and walks straight to me and hands me a stack of papers.
“Remember the project you did last week? Can you do that again for me? Today before you leave. I need it in the morning.”
“Do it yourself. Travis has enough work to do,” Alyssa says, taking the papers from my hands and shoving them back to Blake. I’m not sure what to say.
He opens his mouth and closes it before he says what he wants. He’s fuming, but I suppose he knows better than to mess with her. After another second, Blake slams the door and leaves us alone.
“Alyssa, that’s insubordination. I have to do whatever he asks.”
She grabs my tie and pulls me to her lips. “You’ll do whatever I tell you to do, Travis. And I want that dick soon. Whenever you’re ready.” She pushes her lips against mine, and I force myself to kiss her back. Relief washes over me, and I know that I’ve bought myself some time, but I’m not sure how much.
We walk over to the oval table, and I give her a rundown of what I’ve accomplished. To my surprise, Alyssa actually did her half. She’s not well rounded in foreign policies either, and I almost verbatim tell her what Viola told me. Our meeting ends on a positive note, and I’m feeling a little better about our project with a little hope that she might actually pull her weight.
I grab a granola bar from the break room and decide to skip lunch.
When I return to my office, two stacks of papers are sitting on my desk. There’s a note on the top, from the office of Blake James, and all it says is, have this done by the morning. Instead of giving me one, he’s doubled my workload again.
I check the time and know that I’ll be here later than I want.
The rest of my day is fucked, just as I predicted it would be.
Chapter 15
Viola
The sun is setting over the horizon, and I mark another day off my mental calendar. Only eleven more days and I’ll be back to my dorm, in my bed where there’s no Travis or rules or temptation. I’m actually looking forward to it, or so I’ve been telling myself between reading economics and finance books and trying to convince myself that Travis King is the plague. But all I can think about is how sexy he looks shirtless and how his tongue brushes against his lower lip right before he says something he knows he shouldn’t. Ugh!
Back in high school, Travis was part of the “in” crowd. A jock, good-looking, always a too-good-for-you attitude. He’d smart off to the teachers, get sent to the principal's office, but rarely had to pay the consequences. Ms. Klein was a young principal, so I’m sure she didn’t mind having a guy like Travis in her office as often as he was sent there. Being the basketball team starter didn’t hurt either.
Needing a break from my thoughts, I decide to order a cheese pizza. As I’m waiting for the delivery to arrive, there’s a knock on the door. I check the peephole, but the porch is empty. I think nothing of it and go back to reading. Just as I’ve finished reading another chapter, the doorbell rings again. This time, it’s the pizza deliveryman, and as soon as I hand him some cash, he bends down and picks up a small box with a cute little red bow on it.