Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“You got the papers there?”
“Yes.”
“Took you a while.”
“I was already back. I needed coffee.”
“Ah. Well, finish your lunch and get mine.”
He headed back into his office, partially shutting the door again. I sat down, picking up my sandwich, now completely confused. I thought I had just taken one bite, but only a bite or two remained of the first half of the sandwich. I rubbed my head, wondering if I was losing my mind. How was my coffee disappearing and my sandwich being eaten? Was I that tired and forgetful?
I lifted my sandwich, stopping as I looked at it. The bite mark was much larger than the nibbles I took. I glanced at the door, recalling the guilty look on Mr. Bane’s face.
Had he taken a bite of my sandwich?
Why?
I thought of my disappearing coffees, and once again, I looked at his door. He claimed not to like them, yet they kept vanishing.
He wouldn’t.
Would he?
Only one way to find out.
“I’ll be back in fifteen,” Mr. Bane barked as he walked past my desk.
“Okay.”
I waited for ten, then headed to the break room and made my coffee. Back in the office, I set it on the desk and slipped behind his door, peeking through the crack. If I was wrong, I was going to have to explain myself, but it was worth the risk. He strode in, pausing by my desk. I felt my eyes widen as he stopped, lifted my cup, and took a sip. Then another.
I sprang from behind the door, pointing dramatically and yelling. “Gotcha, coffee thief!”
In retrospect, I should have thought my actions through.
He spun around, and mid-swallow, he choked. Sputtered. Sprayed me with hot, foamy coffee. I gasped as it hit my chest, dripping down my skin and soaking the material. For a moment, neither of us moved, and then he sprang forward, discarding the cup on the desk.
“Are you burned?”
“No.”
He grabbed his pocket scarf, frantically trying to mop up the coffee.
That was soaked into my blouse.
On my chest.
He pressed and stroked, mumbling and cursing. Feeling me up without even realizing. I laid my hands over his, stilling his movements.
“Bane,” I murmured. “You have to stop.”
“Alexander, you missed a signature—”
Jessica from HR walked in, freezing in shock, the words drying on her lips. I knew what she saw. Bane, looming over me, his hands on my boobs, and me holding them there.
He knew it too.
“Jesus Christ,” he swore. “No. No. No.”
Jessica shook her head. “I’ll come back.”
“Coffee!” I squealed. “He was stealing my coffee, and it got on my boobs. He wasn’t feeling me up—really.”
She looked more confused. “Stealing your coffee?”
I laughed shrilly. “It was a joke.”
Bane nodded. “A joke. Yes. A joke.”
She grimaced. “Alexander, I think we need to talk. My office. Five minutes.”
And she walked out.
His gaze, wild and furious, met mine. “Again,” he snarled. “Again, you’ve caused me trouble that I have to try to explain.”
“While you’re thinking, maybe you could take your hands off my boobs?”
He tore them away as if they were on fire. But not before we both noticed how hard my nipples were. Or that his fingers had been caressing them the whole time.
“Why were you eating my sandwich?” I demanded.
“I was starving! You never finish it anyway.”
“And my coffee?”
“I needed a drink.”
“Why don’t you just admit you like my foamy coffees, as you call them, and I’ll make you your own?”
He glared at me and ran a hand through his hair. Which was still damp from the coffee. He growled in agitation, then turned and went into his office, no doubt to wash his hands before heading to HR.
The way the door slammed, I knew I’d have to knock next time.
By Thursday, I was tired and looking forward to the week being over. Bane had barely spoken to me since the coffee incident. I made a point of making him a foamy coffee at least once a day simply to prove a point. When he returned from seeing Jessica, he told me to forward him any dry-cleaning bills for “splashing” me. I sweetly told him I could get the stains out myself. He had grunted, whether in displeasure or acknowledgment, I wasn’t sure. His door-slamming overrode the sound of his grunt. What he and HR discussed, he never revealed.
I walked into the empty lounge and headed into the kitchen. Bane had the only office on this floor. He liked his privacy and being secluded, and apparently, what Bane wanted, Bane got.
The rest of the floor held a private boardroom, this kitchen, and the staff lounge. The other two partners had their offices on the floor below, along with accounting and the main boardroom. The rest of the staff was two floors down. Balanced Designs owned the rest of the building, which was sublet to various businesses.
I rinsed the mugs, muttering as I splashed some diluted coffee on my favorite blouse. I walked down to the bathroom, rinsing my hands and the spot on my cuff, then blotted it dry with a paper towel. I heard people in the lounge, but I wasn’t in the mood to be chipper and friendly today, so I decided to make the coffee for Bane and leave.