“No. But multibillion bucks is.” Sasha lifts her chin with the haughtiness of a prima ballerina. “A man’s gotta be that rich before he gets to say, ‘Me or the job.’ But even that amount of cash wouldn’t guarantee I’d pick him.”
I laugh. “I can always count on you to make me feel better.”
“Girlfriend, some men are junk bonds. Just not worth the investment.” Sasha evaluates men like a rating agency. If they aren’t investment grade, she won’t even look at them. “We didn’t put in all those hours and work at Goldman and Wharton to be somebody’s girlfriend for a while. We’re here to go to places. And get ourselves some triple-A guys.”
I grin, pleased with her support, until a small part of me remembers what else I did last night—showing Emmett what being a cheap sex object feels like. Shit. That’s what I really need advice and support on, more than the breakup with Rick.
I don’t want to tell her everything straight, though. It’s embarrassingly awkward. Plus, although she mainly works with Grant, she does see Emmett around the office. And that could make her feel weird. I certainly wouldn’t want to know about Grant’s penis or his bedroom—office?—performance.
All right. Time to keep this smooth. And share just enough details to get some guidance. “Hey, I got a question for you.”
“I’m all ears.”
“There’s this girl I know…”
“Uh-huh.” She takes a sip of her coffee.
“She kissed her boss.” I say it in my most nonchalant voice.
Sasha blinks slowly. “Like a peck kiss? Or a kiss kiss with tongue action?”
“Tongue to tonsils. According to the girl.”
Her eyes grow wide with curiosity. Sasha loves a good story, although she can be discreet when the situation calls for it. You have to know how to keep a secret to work in finance. People who can’t keep their mouths shut ruin their reps or end up in jail. Sometimes both. “Is he hot?”
I recall how Emmett looks. An urge to lick my lips overwhelms me, so I drink my coffee instead. “Yeah. Uh, apparently.”
“Did he object to the kiss?”
I think back on the encounter. A lot of it is sort of foggy from the lack of sleep and too much caffeine and low blood sugar, but Emmett did definitely put his tongue in my mouth. That isn’t what someone does when they want to quit kissing. “I don’t think so.” Besides, we did a hell of a lot more than just kiss.
Sasha’s dark eyes twinkle. “Does she want to sleep with him?”
Kind of a moot question now! But I pretend to give it some consideration. “No. I don’t think so.” A depressing and annoying thought pops into my head. “When a female subordinate sleeps with her boss, people assume she boinked her way up the corporate ladder, regardless of the truth.” My résumé is freakin’ awesome, and I don’t want that kind of stain on my work history. Damn it.
“See, that’s what’s wrong with our culture.” Sasha shakes her head. “People are narrow-minded. Nobody ever thinks that the boss could be paying her with sex, in addition to whatever salary, to stay at the company and continue to work for him. Bosses with benefits.”
I almost spew my coffee. “That’s not a thing.”
“It should be. Harvard Business Review should do a case study on it. Women aren’t the only ones who can use their bodies to get what they want.” Sasha shrugs. Her attitude stuns me at times, but then, she was raised in France and she’s very open about sexuality.
“Men don’t offer sex as payment because women don’t generally go for it,” I point out, thinking about most men I know in my life, including all my ex-boyfriends. “I sure wouldn’t.”
“Obviously. We’re more practical than men, and have higher standards. But if Chris Evans said, ‘Hey, babe, I want to pay you with sex,’ would you say no?”
“I actually prefer Thor.” And she should know. Superhero flicks get only one viewing out of me—at most—but the Thor movies all got two despite my hellish schedule.
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Chris Hemsworth.”
I imagine the scenario, except it isn’t Chris Hemsworth saying the line, but Emmett. He’s sporting that sexy grin, his eyes sparkling silver-blue like moonlight off a river. His mouth is slightly red and wet from a hot-as-hell kiss we just shared. While I’m trying to catch my breath, he says, “Hey, babe, I want to pay you with sex.”
My cold, logical side says the only correct answer is “Hell no,” but the other side—which currently makes up ninety percent—says I should pretend to give it some serious thought and then slowly say yes, so he knows it wasn’t an easy yes. Men appreciate what they have to work for.
Oh, for God’s sake, what’s wrong with me? I slap a hand over my eyes. Given what happened last night, I’ll be lucky if Emmett doesn’t fire me. Or subject me to whatever his devious mind decides is a suitable punishment. On top of that, I need to see him later today, so I’d better get my head out of the gutter.
Next time I face him, I’m going to be on my best behavior. The perfectly professional Amy Sand, second-year associate at GrantEm Capital with only the purest financial thoughts in her brain.
“Well?” Sasha asks, her eyes glinting with determination. She won’t back off until I give her an answer.