Office Hate - Page 38

“Yes, Mark?” I tried to sound confident, but my voice was barely a whisper, as if I was in my own sex tape, begging him to take me across the conference table. In front of everyone.

“Our team’s in charge of the refurbishments of the rest of the penthouses at Emory’s main boutique hotel, Emory Towers; you remember the one?”

Oh, I was going to strangle him with his tie!

And it was too pretty to wrinkle.

“Yup, remember it quite well, actually,” I said smoothly. “As I recall, the bathrooms were a bit subpar, the lighting, not super… shall we say…flattering to small things.”

His eyes flashed.

Point Olivia!

“Yeah, I also recall that the rooms were somewhat frigid, unresponsive if you get my meaning? And some of those beds, wow no heat at all, it was almost like, you were sleeping with a ghost, right?”

I clenched my teeth. “Exactly, and don’t even get me started on the dryers…”

Mark actually choked, then coughed. “Yes well, we won’t need to worry about marketing the dryers, though I’m sure you’d be exceptional at it, considering all your time with them.”

My pencil snapped in half.

His grin grew. “So shall we get started?”

“Now?” I asked.

Max laughed. “Okay then, she’s just a bit tired, you know, working all those late nights, having no social life, and basically sleeping at work.”

Leave it to Max to sell you out right under the table.

“For your company.” I pointed out. “And it’s a joy.”

“You threatened to light Roger on fire last week,” Max deadpanned. “For refusing to fold the—okay, you know what, fresh starts! Let’s let our fantastic duo come up with some marketing ideas for the penthouses, and we’ll be off!”

Yes, let’s.

Chapter Twenty

Mark

We rode in a Town Car together.

You know those really awkward movie scenes where both people are staring straight ahead, barely breathing, and refuse to even touch legs?

That was Olivia and me on a severely painful level.

And the worst part?

I still wanted her.

I’d tried not to.

I’d tried everything, but therapy, which Max suggested would be the only way to get over her. He had this whole twelve-step program planned out that ended up landing me in prison—twice. Suffice to say, I stopped taking his advice when he told me I’d feel better if I talked to Hades, and when I told him I didn’t believe in the underworld, he whistled, and an honest to God goat came strolling out with a collar on and red eyes.

Those eyes peered into my soul.

It was the creepiest thing I’d ever seen in my entire life.

I don’t even remember running out of his penthouse. His poor wife had been making us dinner once again, and I heard her utter, “Really Max, again?”

Apparently, that was normal for them.

I shuddered and brought myself back to the present.

“Everything okay?” I asked smoothly.

Olivia sighed and looked out the window. “You’re doing well.”

“As are you.”

“How’s the supermodel girlfriend?”

“How would you even know if I have a girlfriend, checking up on the guy you slept with, abandoned, and now hate? Or just morbid curiosity since I got the president job and you didn’t?”

She scowled. “It’s not about that.”

“Isn’t it, though?”

“You walked away too!” She turned to me, all rage and perfection. Her hair was a blunt cut, darker, so dark and shiny I wanted to weave my fingers into it to feel the silk, her eyes a crystal blue, her full lips painted with a pink lipstick I wanted on every part of my body.

Five years.

Five damn years.

And I still felt ready to rip her clothes off.

But it was more than that.

I wanted everything this time.

Take no prisoners.

She was mine.

I was hers.

And well, since Max promoted me and I moved back, it seemed like the right time. Actually, everything weirdly fell into place, even selling my apartment, which was weird since it was such a high price point I was told it would take a while.

Now that I thought about it…

“Hellooooo…” Olivia waved in front of my face. “We’re here.”

“Sorry, I was thinking.” I nodded toward her chest. “Maybe button that top one more button, so men don’t stare; that’s not how we do business at Emory Enterprises.”

She looked ready to throat punch me, and honestly, I wanted her to take it down a few buttons, but that would be grounds for sexual harassment, so I looked away and got out of the car.

She followed, and up both of our heads went as we eyed the building that used to be our home back when we were interns.

It was eerie being back.

And as we stepped onto the elevator and hit the first level Penthouse button—the one we’d lived in, my cock literally sprang to life like it was returning home.

Damn it.

I turned away from her but could still smell her perfume as she sighed in annoyance next to me.

“So.” I gulped, turning back. “I hear Amelia and Ryker have hellions for children.”

Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024