Back for More, page 17
“Hi,” she says, a little unsure. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” I say. “This is your boss calling. I’m headed back to the office.”
“Good. I’m at the office.” I can hear her smiling.
“Good. You don’t have me on speakerphone, do you?”
“I do not. I’ve been gathering market data on that office park in Central Point for you, and Chris needs to talk to you as soon as possible about the retail property in Bend. Something about one of the tenants.”
“Okay.”
“And I’ve started drafting the letter of intent for the apartment complex in Grants Pass.”
“Thank you. I need you to schedule a conference call with the Tripletts’ lawyer for this afternoon. If you can get their business manager on the phone at the same time, that’d be great. And all I can think about is your sweet, hot, wet pussy and how good it felt to finally be inside you, and I’m going to be in there all night tonight, so get ready.”
“Yes sir,” she says without missing a beat. “I can absolutely do that, and I can assure you that it will be ready and waiting for you. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Put Jacobi on my call sheet too. And send me a link to Kate’s baby registry.”
“I’ve already picked out a couple of things I think you should get her. I think she knows, by the way.”
“Oh, she knows. And you were right. We should have gone to see her together. But I’m not worried.”
“Good. Neither am I. About her, anyway.”
“I’m also wondering if you’re wearing panties right now.”
“Thank you for your concern. I can confirm that I am, that they are not at all appropriate for the workplace, and that I brought two alternates with me. I will be changing into one of them as soon as I get off the phone with you and filing an insurance claim because they are completely flooded just from hearing your voice.”
I nearly slam on the breaks. “Fuuuck me.”
“I fully intend to, just as soon as work hours are over. Are you quite all right, sir?”
I clear my throat. “Quite. You’re killing me.”
“I am merely a robot secretary, sir, here to cater to your needs. Will there be anything else?”
“Yes, Lily, there will be so much else. But I’m going to hang up now so I don’t have a pants tent when I get to the office.”
“I look forward to reconvening with you after hours, sir. Drive safe.”
I walk into the office with a lot of trepidation and no pants tent. This is the first time I’m seeing Lily today after leaving her house, and I’m afraid she’s wearing a corset or a bikini just to mess with me. Or maybe I’m hoping that’s what she’s wearing. I don’t know anything anymore. She’s driving me crazy, and I love it.
And here she is at her desk, in a buttoned-up blouse, with her hair up. And wearing glasses? Those must be fake. She’s doing the sexy librarian thing, and she’s definitely trying to kill me. She’s on the phone and doesn’t make eye contact with me, so I go straight to my office to get settled. To think about calculus and chlamydia and that time I slammed my hand into a nail—anything that’s not Lily.
She’s already put my phone sheet out on my desk, and there’s a file folder next to it. The Post-it note on the file folder says Urgent Matter—please deal with this ASAP.
I flip it open, and the only thing I find in the folder is a tiny pair of white, lacy thong panties. And it smells like her. And it’s damp. Goddammit, Lily. These are the panties she just changed out of.
Yeah, I’ll deal with this ASAP.
I hear Chris’s voice just outside. “He back yet?”
“He just got in. Hang on,” she says.
Fucking hell, Chris.
I drop the panties back into the folder and shove the folder into the bottom drawer of my desk.
Fuck me.
I stand up because I don’t want Chris to get comfortable in here. I grab my laptop and hold it in front of myself.
Lily knocks on the open door. She’s wearing a tight pencil skirt and heels and a grin that tells me she’s enjoying this and she’s an evil vixen. “Chris is here to chat with you real quick—if you’re…up for it?”
“I’m totally down for it,” I snap back.
She eyes the laptop I’m holding flat in front of my lap, and I stand between the door and my desk so Chris doesn’t come all the way in.
“Hey, Wes, how was Ashland?”
“Good. Everything’s on track. What’s up? I was about to…” I make a vague gesture to imply that I’m busy.
“Yeah, the Bend retail property is looking good except for one vendor. I haven’t told the clients yet, but…”
The rest of what Chris says is in one ear, out the other, because Lily’s standing in the outer office where I can see her over Chris’s shoulder. She’s slowly unbuttoning the top four buttons of her blouse, pulling it down past her collarbone and farther down, to expose a black lacy lingerie thing while casually readjusting the strap. Fucking hell, what is that? A push-up bra? Why do her tits look so much bigger under there? Why’s she buttoning her blouse back up already?
Chris is asking me something, and I don’t have a fucking clue what he just said because the succubus from hell just disappeared from view and I want to see that bra again.
“Wait, what? What’s your question?”
“Do you want me to tell their business manager first? Or the clients?” Chris asks again.
“Go ahead and call Jack, but then tell the clients. Don’t let it spook them, because it’s still in everyone’s breast interest to move forward on this,” I say—end of discussion. “Okay?”
Chris stares at me, smirking before saying, “Uhh. Yeah, sure.”
Shit, what did I just say?
“I agree,” Chris says as he turns to leave. “It definitely is. I’ll let you get back to your…” He nods at Lily as he walks out, never finishing that sentence.
“You’re fired,” I mutter as I shut my office door. “Stay away from me for the rest of the afternoon.” I get a glimpse of her winking at me before it closes, and I bang my head against the door a few times for good measure.
She does me the honor of behaving herself and staying out of my eyeline for about an hour and a half, but when I’m in the middle of my conference call, the door opens, and she walks in and places a bottle of Gatorade on my desk and then walks out again. There’s a Post-it note stuck to the bottle that says: You’re gonna lose a lot more fluids tonight. Drink up.
I grab a Sharpie pen to cross out those words before tearing up the note and dropping it into the waste basket.
Half an hour later, while I’m doing a Skype call with clients who are traveling in Canada, she walks in again and demurely places a protein bar in front of me and then walks out again. The note on the wrapper says: You better eat this now. You’ll be eating me for dinner tonight.
She-demon.
I cannot wait to get her home, and this has already been the longest day ever.
Almost as soon as I’m off the Skype call, I get a text from Neal: Hey there, Uncle Weth. We’ve got a bit of a babysitting emergency situation here. Alecia and I have to go to a work thing at six, and our regular sitter just bailed. Our parents are either sick or out of town. Leesh is calling Lily, but I wanted to see if you’re free in case we need backup.
I can hear Lily talking on the phone at her desk. I run to the door and wave my hands at her, shaking my head and trying to tell her to say “no.” I can ask my dad to do it. But she’s looking right at me when she says into her cell phone, “Sure, don’t worry about it, I can do it. Yeah…and actually, I think Uncle Weth might be available to entertain the kids too.” She yanks the phone away from her ear when Alecia squeals. “Yeah. Calm down. Hakuna matata to you too. Bye.”
She hangs up and looks at me apologetically. “I know it’s going to hurt to wait a little longer, but I owe Alecia and her kids some Lily B-fathe time. It’s the least I can do, after being AWOL for so long.”
I rub my forehead and empty out my lungs. “Yeah. Fine. That’s nice of you. You’re the devil. I’ll get you back for this.”
18
Lily
*Now You’re Getting It*
He wasn’t kidding. He really is getting me back for my naughty office flirt-bomb shenanigans. Seeing Uncle Weth carrying Spencer around on his shoulders while singing and dancing with Charlotte to Yo Gabba Gabba on YouTube is making my ovaries melt. His dimples have been working overtime. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many of his teeth on display. He’s happy. It’s adorable. And hot. And every time I try to signal to him to meet me in the bathroom for a quick make-out session, he smirks and looks away. So be it. I’ll just clean up the mess we made at dinner while they have fun in front of the big screen.
I’m not even jealous that the kids like him so much more than they like me.
Okay, I’m a little jealous.
But I don’t blame them.
And also, the only reason I don’t seem like as much fun right now is because this silk blouse and pencil skirt limit my dance moves.
And maybe for just a minute, I’m remembering that ache I felt after I left here the first time I visited Alecia for lunch. I didn’t want to name it then, but I can now. I want this. I want a family. I want a cozy house and noisy kids, and I want my people. I want a home. I want to be happy. I want Wes.
And it only scares me a little to admit this to myself. Maybe one day I’ll even be able to admit it to another person. To the other person.
“You gonna dance with us, Lily B-Face?”
I try so hard to frown at him, but I just can’t. Some actress. “I can’t really move very much in these clothes.” I smile at Charlotte. “But I love watching you guys!”
“Can we bwush my pwintheth hair?!” she shouts.
“Yeah!” I shout back, even though I’m not sure what she’s talking about. She runs over to grab my hand and leads me out of the living room, up the stairs. I glance back at Wes, who’s letting Spencer down onto the floor. We exchange a look that I can only describe as “fuck hungry,” and I smirk at him. Soon. Not soon enough. But soon.
Charlotte drops my hand when we enter her bedroom so she can pick up her princess hair—the long blonde wig I gave her. “Here,” she says, shoving it at me. “You hold. I bwush.”
“You got it.”
She picks up a pink plastic hairbrush, and I kneel down on the carpet, holding the wig up so she can go at it.
“Is Uncle Weth your fwiend?”
“Yes, he is.”
“He’s my fwiend too.”
“Yes. He likes you very much.”
“I’m gonna mawwy Uncle Weth when I grow up.”
“Oh really?” I actually feel an insane pang of jealousy because Charlotte is super cute and Wes really is fond of her. “Are you sure you don’t want to marry someone a little closer to your own age?”
She shakes her head vehemently. “When I’m older, we’ll be the same.”
Yeah. Hopefully I’ll be the same as him when I’m older too. “Oh, well. Guess you got it all figured out, then. What if you meet someone else you want to marry?”
She shrugs. “I’ll mawwy them too.”
“Good for you.” You leave Wes for me, you sweet little turd.
I hear heavy footsteps running up the stairs. “Lily! Your phone!” Wes runs in, carrying Spencer in one arm and holding my phone out to me with the other. “Answer it. Hurry.”
I grab it from him and answer, worried that it’s an emergency. “Hello?” I signal for him to take my place holding the wig for Charlotte and only pause for half a second, thinking maybe I should keep her away from my man…
“Hello, Lily?” It’s the rich voice of an older woman who I recognize and adore.
“Yes!” I pull the phone away from my ear as I walk out into the hallway and see that it’s Samantha Naylor—Mrs. Naylor, my high school drama teacher calling me. “Mrs. Naylor?”
“Yes, my dear girl. I hope I’m calling at a good time.”
“Mrs. Naylor, it’s so good to hear from you. Hi!” My eyes are tearing up. Mrs. Naylor was my greatest supporter at Saint Mary’s, and I had thought about calling her eventually, but I didn’t want to tell her that I wasn’t acting anymore.
“Hello, angel. I heard the good news that you’re back in town.”
“I was going to call you—I’ve only been back a short while.”
“No need to apologize. Your vocal instrument still sounds very clear and well-developed. Good for you.”
“I always hear you in my head, reminding me to stand up straight and project my voice.” My mind is racing, trying to figure out who would have told her that I was in town—Alecia?
“Listen, darling. I’m calling because I have a job for you if you’re interested. Not a big-money job, mind you. It’s theater—you know how it is. I need an assistant director for my summer theater program production, and as soon as I heard you were in town, I knew you were the only one who would do. Because you can also serve as understudy—so you must say yes. You already know the play—A Midsummer Night’s Dream. It’s all-ages, and I’ve already cast it. Our first meeting is tomorrow night at the school theater. Our budget will allow me to pay you a modest weekly stipend. If you still have the same email address, I will send you everything you need to know. Do you still have the text?”
“Um. Yes, I have it.” I can’t believe she’s just giving me a job, but part of me still wonders if it’s only because my grandmother had donated money for the theater.
“Wonderful—so I’ll see you tomorrow night at six forty-five, then? The little ones will only be joining us for rehearsals during the day, and I assume you’ll only be available in the evenings and weekends. Wally will be assisting me on weekdays.”
“Wally still works with you?”
“Oh yes. He sends his love and can’t wait to see you.”
“Well, I…I’m so happy that you…”
“Excellent, I’ll see you tomorrow at six forty-five sharp, then.”
“Yes, Mrs. Naylor.”
“Good night, dear.”
I hang up and walk back into Charlotte’s bedroom in a daze. Wes is wearing the long blonde wig on his head and grinning at me.
“That was my high school drama teacher.”
“Yeah.”
“Offering me an assistant director job.”
“Yeah?”
“How did she know I was in town?”
He shrugs and turns to face Charlotte when she growls and slaps her hands on the sides of his head. “Her husband is a client. I called her this morning.”
“Mrs. Naylor’s husband invests in commercial real estate?”
“Oh yeah. Big-time.”
“And you called her to tell her that I was in town? This morning?”
He points at me without looking over. “Now you’re getting it.”
I shake my head, disbelieving. Spencer hops over, looks up at me, and tells me he needs a banana. “Yeah. Let’s go get you a banana before bed.” I take his little hand and look back at Wes before leading Spencer out of the room. Wes is still wearing the wig, smiling and staring at Charlotte while she pats him on the head with the hairbrush. He looks terrible as a blonde, but by golly, I still don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve him.
When Alecia and Neal come home, Wes, Spencer, and I are all piled onto Charlotte’s bed, and Wes is reading Dragons Love Tacos aloud, and it’s official—my ovaries have gone nuclear. That “I hate Wes Carver” muscle that I used to exercise daily just turned into “I have heart eyes for Wes Carver” fat overnight. It’s true. It’s science.
I had lost track of time—we may have kept the kids up past bedtime, no clue. But now that their parents are home, I think Wes and I are both trying really hard not to sprint out the front door so we can get each other naked.
“Matron. Of. Honor!” Alecia whispers into my ear as we hug good-bye. She texts me the picture that she surreptitiously snapped of Wes and me on the bed with her kids. We’re so fucking cute I could cry, but I won’t because I’ve already discharged too much body fluid today.
“So,” Wes says as we stroll toward our respective parked cars, so slowly that it’s probably obvious we’re trying not to run. “My place?”
“Is that an invitation?”
“It’s an order.” He spins me around, pushes me up against my car, and kisses me so hard I can’t breathe, and I don’t need to because this kiss is giving me life. When he finally pulls away, he says, “Follow me.”
“Yeah,” I say with what’s left of my voice. “Consider yourself followed.”
When I pull up behind him in his driveway, I can’t help but feel like even though I’ve only been here a couple of times before, this feels so much more like coming home than it does when I park in the circular driveway out front or the garage in the alley behind the mansion. Wes waits for me and takes my hand as we walk up to his front door. I’m sure we’ll be more careful when we’re outside together once my father is back in town, but for now it is a small and treasured joy to be able to touch him like this when we’re not at work.
As he is shutting the front door and literally breathing down my neck, I say, “You need to feed the cat first…”
His shoulders slouch. “Right.” He shakes with laughter. “We’ve waited this long…” He goes to the kitchen, shaking his head.
While he’s in the kitchen, I stay where I am and quickly remove my blouse and skirt and shake out my hair. I am casually leaning against the wall by the door where we kissed that first time I was here, only this time I’m wearing a black lacy bra and panties with garter belt, silk stockings, and heels, like it’s no big deal.
“Okay,” I hear him say. “That’s one pussy taken care of. Where are you?”
When he steps into the foyer, I slowly unhook the garter clips from my stockings while staring at him. He clenches his jaw and his eyelids get heavy, and his voice gets so deep, I swear it hits my G-spot. “You’ve been wearing that under your clothes all this time?”
