Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“That was…incredible,” I say through my breaths. “That was also very uncharacteristic of me.”
I stand up and slowly divvy out their various articles of clothing.
“I think I need a little time to sort out who exactly I am. I think I have a good sense of who I am when it comes to you four, but…I just need a little time is all.”
They each nod and respond with a kiss as they gather themselves up.
As we prepare to part ways, I look at them each longingly.
“Thank you for not giving up on me,” I say as I close my office door.
I rest my back against the door. The cool wood brings down the gravity of what just happened smack into my mind.
Chapter 38
Julia
What the hell have I done?
Well, that’s an easy question, at least. I fucked them all in my office—a line I swore I would never cross. Mixing business and pleasure seems to be the norm for me lately.
Another day in the office. I should be glad to be back, but my mood is sour. I don’t think its regret for defiling my office. Quite the opposite.
They seemed…detached. No—cautious. Dare I say…it was too vanilla?
I’m definitely not in control of myself. Three times on the elevator ride to my floor, people complimented me on my tan. Why would I be mad about that?
One person even said I should vacation more often.
With the last few floors up, when I’m finally alone in the small glass elevator, I scream at the top of my lungs.
Yep. I’ve lost it.
“What the fuck does that mean? Take more vacations? Who the fuck does she think she is? This is my fucking company!” I scream, even going to the point of stomping my feet.
A childish act, but it’s how I feel right now. This is my company, and I don’t need a fucking vacation.
The door slides open just as I prop my head against the cool siding of the elevator. They meant me no harm. I’m overreacting again.
Something I said I wouldn’t do.
I scold myself for allowing my mind to get the best of me once again.
When was the last time my mind was clear?
Flying. Getting hit. Smacked. Whipped. Choked.
I reach out to the door knob of my office. I know the moment I walk in, I’m going to lock the door, yank my clothes off, and masturbate furiously. I need it.
I need to feel something, anything, that brings me back to those moments of real clarity and release. Suddenly, one of the agents stops me. Oh, thank god.
Finally, someone with a real problem for me to handle!
“Julia, can you sign this invoice for new pens?” he asks.
Pens? Is he serious? This is my big important and super distracting problem to get my mind off the fact that I need to be tied up, bruised, whipped…
I sigh and sign the paper, then walk off without a word. It’s rude of me, yes, but all he needs are new pens. I would even welcome lost luggage or flight cancelations, but all I get is an invoice. For pens.
It seems all they need me for is to decide on blue or black writing instruments.
“Hold my calls this morning. I need a cup of coffee, strong and dark.”
I don’t even wait for my assistant to say anything. Again, I don’t make it into my office before I’m stopped. Thank god.
“Julia, look! We have the reports from last month, and we’re up 25 percent in bookings. Can you believe it?” she says, giddy with excitement.
I hold back my feelings, but this is getting to me, and it’s only nine a.m. in the morning.
“That’s wonderful, but I have a phone meeting,” I lie. “I’d love to celebrate after the big lunch meeting.”
I walk away quickly, not stopping till I close my office door.
I press my body against the door, wishing this feeling would go away. The one where you aren’t as important as you once thought. Or the one that the world won’t stop because you’re not there to keep it moving.
Fucked up feelings, all of them.
I slide my body down the door, not stopping till my ass rests on the carpet. I know that I’m acting childish, but until recently, I thought I was irreplaceable. That vacation was an eye-opener in many ways for me.
My company can run without me here.
I guess this is what a parent feels like when their child leaves. My business is doing so well that I’m not needed anymore.
Sitting on the floor for what seems forever, I slowly realize that I’ve done a good job here.
Why am I upset because my staff is doing everything I taught them—and doing it well, too?
I stand up, collecting my thoughts. I take a seat in my sleek, minimalist office chair and look around, studying my surroundings. Something about the way it is feels…off.