Company Ink by E.L. Lewis

f o u r t e e n

Adrian is sitting on the edge of his desk, arms crossed, sporting a dangerously intimidating look on his gorgeous face. I choose to stand twelve feet away from him, my back almost bumping against his extensive book collection. I tug at the hem of my skirt when I catch Adrian's gaze drifting down to my exposed thighs. I knew the sales associate was lying when she said this outfit was business casual. There is nothing casual about the way my boss is licking his lips and burrowing his fatally glowing eyes into mine.

Avert gaze. Avert gaze now. Do not get sucked in.

"You wanted to see me?" I mutter, lowering my head and admiring Adrian's sleek brown dress shoes. I don't trust myself to look at him right now, not when he has that look on his face.

My eyes widen as the loafers begin walking towards me. I try to take a step back but there is no more room left behind me. With every stride, my heart rate accelerates until it feels like a damn hummingbird took up residence in my chest.

Stopping just inches away from my tensed-up body, Adrian lifts two fingers up to my chin, gently tilting my head up until my eyes meet his, an electric charge zaps down my spine.

"You volunteered?" Adrian asks, his tone strained and calculating, his gaze shifting between my eyes like he's trying to decipher a foreign code. He's talking about Mr. Pearson...right? I can't focus on what he's saying, or what he means, or anything except for the fact that I wish we were in a bedroom and not a goddamn office right now.

I nibble on my bottom lip absentmindedly, well aware that his long fingers are pushing back my hair, that my shameless body is reacting to his melting touch in ways that are thoroughly NSFW.

"Actually, Kitty and David volunteered me," I breathe. "I just...accepted."

Adrian grips the bookshelf behind me, his sturdy chest hovering above mine. "You should've asked me first, Cassie," he whispers into my ear, so soft and quiet that I almost don't hear him. "I don't share."

"An only child, I presume?" I ask in a shaky tone, trying to hold my breath so that his deliciously masculine cologne doesn't bring me to my knees.

Adrian lifts his other hand slowly up to my face, the pad of his thumb grazing the burning apples of my cheeks.

"Good guess but no," he hums in a husky tone, dragging his hand down the length of my neck, his palm curling around the base of my throat, his thumb brushing my bottom lip lazily, forcing me to squeeze my thighs shut. "However, you can only imagine how I felt when Nadine called to inform me that now I have to share you with Pearson." Adrian's hot breath flows into my mouth as he leans towards my lips.

I close my eyes, and grip the sides of my skirt, trying to hold onto my last shred of self-control. "Adrian, we—" Adrian wraps his warm hand around my waist and pulls my body plush with his. "I—"

He brushes his lips against mine. He tastes like mint and sugar and sin. I let out a tiny moan. "Finish your sentence, Cassie," he rasps, his tongue flicking across my bottom lip. "Tell me to stop."

Shallow and uneven breaths escape my quivering mouth. This is your chance. Tell him to stop. I squirm, trying to force my brain to connect with my mouth.

Adrian chuckles, a burst of hot, sweet air fills my lungs. "You want this," he grumbles, sliding his hand up the back of my blouse, the tips of his fingers running back and forth across my bare skin. "Say it."

Shivers course down my spine, causing a wicked grin to capture Adrian's mouth. It's taking every fiber of my being not to reach out and touch his body, he's so close, so hot, and so fucking tempting.

"We can't do this," I finally say in a throaty and breathy tone. "I could get fired."

"Only if we get caught," Adrian reasons with a mischievous smirk. "Or if you're too loud." Adrian leans over to my ear and whispers provocatively, "Can you be quiet, Cassie? Or will the entire office hear you scream?"

His words, although seductive and completely fucking melting, pull me out of his trance. Office. Work. Meeting. I lift my palms up to Adrian's chest and give him a slight push.

"What time is it?" I ask in a frenzied tone, looking around the room for a hanging clock.

Adrian smirks. "It's just past 10 am."

"Shit!" I straighten out my blouse, tucking it back into my pencil skirt. I run a frantic hand through my hair. "I'm late for my meeting!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Adrian says unapologetically like he knew he was fucking me over.

"I have to go," I state with an edge, walking to his door. What an asshole! A gorgeous, sinful, and forbidden asshole.

"Send Blake my regards," Adrian says coolly. "And Cassie?"

I turn my head over my shoulder, glowering at him. "What?"

"This conversation isn't over."

I narrow my eyes. "It is for me. Bye, Mister Cavallero."

I walk out of his office slowly, trying to avoid drawing any attention to myself, pretending that I didn't just get manhandled by the firm's top attorney. This is insane. He is insane. At work? He does that shit to me at work? I'm flabbergasted, astonished, and so goddamn turned on that I might have to change my panties.

Grabbing my notebook and a pen, I scurry down the hallway to meet Mr. Pearson, hoping that my face doesn't look as flush and flustered as it feels. I pass by Nancy's sad and empty office, the only thing on her desk is a box of tissues. She probably left it there for her replacement. I anticipate crying in the next ten minutes if Mr. Pearson reams me out for being late.

I knock timidly on his door, giving my outfit one more readjustment. "Mr. Pearson? It's uh—your new PA, Cassie."

"Come in," an even and apathetic voice calls out from inside.

My fingers coil around the brass knob and turn it slowly. The door creaks open, literally creaks. What is this? A horror movie? Am I the dumb blonde that dies first? I peek my head into the office before my reluctant body follows.

I blink a couple of times to take in my surroundings. Blake's office is huge. Like obscenely ginormous. Sleek black furniture, two couches, an armchair, and a coffee table. Floating shelves reside on the far wall with abstract glazed statues resting on the dark wood. Unlike Adrian's office, Blake doesn't have a bookshelf or any personal effects on his desk; just a computer, a phone, and neatly organized stacks of manila envelopes and folders.

"Please sit down, Miss Carrington. You're late," he notes, not looking up from his computer, his large back facing me. His shoulders must be twice the length of mine! He looks like he's ready to hulk out of his black suit any minute.

I take a seat in front of him and place my notepad on my lap. Blake types on his keyboard for a couple more seconds and then finally turns to face me. As soon as his gaze lands on my face, a flash of recognition spreads across his features, capturing his bemused and vividly crystal blue eyes. Blake chuckles softly, shaking his head and running a hand through his charcoal black hair.

Why is he laughing? Am I missing something? I squirm uncomfortably in my seat. "I'm sorry I'm late. I was...held up." Literally. I extend my hand over his desk. "I'm Cassie, your new PA."

Blake eyes my hand for a brief second before reaching for it and giving me a firm professional handshake. "Nadine says you started last week. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to introduce myself earlier. I'm Blake Pearson, Managing Partner."

"It's totally fine. You must be a busy man," I laugh nervously. "But it's nice to finally put a face to a name." And what a face; strong jaw, faint dark stubble, thick black eyelashes, and eyes the color of aquamarine—almost inhumanly blue.

"So, Cassandra, Nadine tells me you have event experience. Where did you work previously?" he asks with a smirk.

"At New Vision Press. It's a publishing house." I blink, forcing myself to stop staring at his hauntingly beautiful eyes. "It's actually not too far from here, just on—"

"5th Street," Blake finishes my sentence with a knowing smile. "I'm familiar with it." He leans back into his chair, his eyes glowing with humor. "So, tell me, Cassandra. How was the funeral?"

I narrow my eyes, taken aback by his off-handed question. "I'm sorry...what?" What is he talking about?

"Oh," Blake hums comically. "No funeral? She survived?"

I lean in closer to the desk and whisper, "Are you talking to someone else on Bluetooth right now?"

Blake shakes his head. "No, I'm not."

I shift my gaze side to side, trying to wrap my head around what the fuck he's asking me. Is this some weird psychological assessment? Like a verbal version of the Rorschach test? Is he ink blobbing me right now?

"It was...good?" I offer hesitantly, still wildly confused. "Great catering?"

Blake chuckles under his breath. "Well, I'm glad you were able to lay Stella down to rest."

Stella? What?! How did he—My eyes expand as they glide over Blake's features. The hair, the jaw, the shoulders, the suit. The suit! The black Armani Suit. Oh, dear God. I gasp and cover my mouth with my right hand. No fucking way. Blake is...Stella's murderer?! How did I not recognize him? Oh God...he was wearing sunglasses that day. That must be it. I'd remember those eyes if I ever saw them before.

"I see you finally put the pieces together," he chuckles, looking far too amused by this awkward situation.

"I—uh...I didn't—" What the hell does someone say in a situation like this?

"I know, it must be such a shock to have a 'small-minded simpleton' as your new boss."

My cheeks burn up as I remember our interaction. I did call him that, didn't I? I press my lips into a thin line, praying that this chair just swallows me whole.

"I don't know what to say," I mumble, utterly lost for words. "I'm sorry?"

Blake shrugs noncommittally. "Don't apologize. Your reaction was completely reasonable."

"Really? It was?" I ask tentatively.

"Of course not, Cassandra. It was a plant, not an animal. You obviously overreacted."

I cross my arms defensively. "I was having a rough day."

"I remember." Blake links his fingers together and lays his fists on the desk.  "Your rough day caused me to be late to a very important meeting with a client."

I tilt my head to the side. "You can't possibly blame me for that? I didn't ask you to stay or help me."

"What kind of man would I be if I just left you there, without making sure you didn't do something reckless?" he asks, his calm eyes latching onto mine.

"Um...a normal one?" I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, feeling suddenly nervous in his presence. "Most people ignore strangers on the street."

Blake rubs his chin methodically. "I just didn't want to turn on the news the next day and see a headline that read 'local girl throws herself into traffic after dropping her plant'. I don't think I could live with the guilt."

I don't know if he's being funny or serious, his face is neither smiling nor stern, just laced with genuine matter-of-factness. I nod my head, unsure of how to react to his...logical observation. "Okay, yeah. That makes sense. Well, sorry for uh—freaking out on you."

"It's alright. You weren't an employee back then. I cannot hold your behavior against you. Plus, as you said, you were having a rough day."

"Mhm," I hum, starting to see why people avoid Blake. The man is harder to read than Egyptian hieroglyphics. "So... how long is Nancy gone for?"

"However long it takes to get her affairs in order. I'm not at liberty to discuss the nature of her departure. But I anticipate she should be back within two months."

Two months with a human-robot? Great. I have the equivalent of a blow-up doll as one superior and Commander Data as the other. That's just peachy.

"Is there anything you'd like for me to work on for you?" I ask, opening my notebook.

"A few things," Blake begins. "Seeing as it'll be virtually impossible for you to conduct the same duties as Nancy while also working for Adrian, your tasks will be primarily to organize my meetings and plan Client Appreciation Night. I'll most likely require your help with some paperwork as well, but I'll assign that on the day. You should already have access to Nancy's hard drive and files."

I scribble down everything he's saying as fast as humanly possible. I hope I'll be able to read my notes later. Blake continues, "There's an emergency meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning with Wagner Corp. I'll need you to procure catering and refreshments, as well as set up the boardroom accordingly. Nancy should have notes on the preferences of the Wagner executive team. Please make sure you read them carefully. Everything must be perfect."

Perfect? Yikes. Clearly, I have big shoes to fill. "Wagner Corp?" I ask, jotting down the name of the company so I can Google them later.

"Yes, we're currently representing them in a merger with Lance Foundation," Blake trails off and gives me a detailed and meticulous run down of both companies and their respective operations. By the time he's finished, I have four pages of notes, my hand is cramped, and I really need to pee.

"Alright, I think I'm good to go," I say, rolling my neck in an attempt to loosen the kinks. "Is there anything else you need from me today Mr. Pearson?"

"No, I believe we've covered everything urgent. I'll email you if anything else comes up."

"Okay, cool." I stand up and head for the door. "Oh!" I turn around. "One question."

"Yes?" Blake perks up an eyebrow. "What is it, Cassandra?"

"Nancy's office...am I allowed to use it?"

"Of course," he says and a wide smile spreads on my face. "That is if it's okay with Adrian. I wouldn't want to step on his toes seeing as I've already borrowed his PA."

My smile fades into a frown. "Thanks, I'll check with him."

"We'll talk soon, Cassandra," he says kindly.

"You can call me Cassie," I inform him with a smile.

Blake smirks, looking at me with surprisingly bright eyes. "Goodbye, Cassandra."

I purse my lips. What am I going to do? Spaz out at him for using my full name? It's not like I hate it—I've just always assumed it sounded boring; although, the way Blake says my name, with such fluidity and grace, it's starting to grow on me. Cassandra the Great! Has a nice ring to it.

I exit his office and walk back to my desk, plopping myself down clumsily. That didn't go as badly as I thought it would; Blake's...bearable, odd...but bearable. Plus, it doesn't hurt that he's easy on the eyes. No. We're not doing this again, Cassie. Disregard appearance. Focus on something else. Anything else for God's sake. I seriously have an issue. Do I need counseling? No. That's silly. It's completely normal to admire the beauty of others; it's human nature. That's right. It's natural. Completely and utterly normal. I take a deep breath and pull up the messenger system. I've got bigger fish to fry anyway. Here goes nothing.

Cassandra Carrington: Can I move to Nancy's office? Mr. Pearson said it's okay with him

I get a reply immediately.

Adrian Cavallero: No

I scoff.

Cassandra Carrington: why not?

Adrian Cavallero: Because I said so

Cassandra Carrington: That doesn't seem like a good reason

Adrian Cavallero: I'm your boss, I don't need a good reason

Cassandra Carrington: <eye roll emoji>

Adrian Cavallero: Don't roll your eyes at me

Cassandra Carrington: It's just an emoji

Adrian Cavallero: I can think of a few ways to make your eyes roll

My jaw drops. I can't believe he just said that on the company chat system.

Cassandra Carrington: are these messages stored on the server?

Adrian Cavallero: not permanently. Don't worry, no one will know. It'll be our little secret

Cassandra Carrington: MR. CAVALLERO!

Adrian Cavallero: aw, what happened to the fun Cassie that was at the club...I liked her

Cassandra Carrington: the fun Cassie can't come to the phone right now. Why? Cause she's dead

I snicker to myself. God, I'm hilarious.

Adrian Cavallero: what?

Cassandra Carrington: it's Taylor Swift. God, you're old

Adrian Cavallero: I'm only five years older than you

Cassandra Carrington: doesn't feel like it, grandpa

Adrian Cavallero: if I didn't have back-to-back meetings all day, I'd come over there and teach you a lesson in respect

Cassandra Carrington: wow calm down there, Aretha

Adrian Cavallero: Cassie...

Cassandra Carrington: ok byeeeee. I have work to do. I'll be here in my tiny little cubicle if you need anything

Adrian Cavallero: We still need to finish our conversation from this morning

Lie. Lie. Lie.

Cassandra Carrington: I'm swamped for the rest of the day...raincheck?

Adrian Cavallero: Fine. Raincheck

I close the messaging system and mentally scold myself. How in the world did I get myself into this mess? This is absurd. Adrian should honestly be locked up for making me feel this way. It's unholy, unfair, and unjust!

I spend the rest of the day avoiding Adrian at all costs. He leaves his office; I duck under my desk. He turns a corner, and I run like a madwoman. I see the benefits of carpets now; my heels don't give me away with their clicking. When 5 pm hits, I dash out of the office like Roadrunner. Maybe tomorrow will be better. At least I'll be busy most of the morning taking minutes for the Wagner/Lance meeting.

Yes. Tomorrow will be better.

I'm counting on it.