Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
LEO
“Wait—” Jacqueline sat up, her hair beautifully disheveled, “You actually eat baked beans in the morning? That isn’t just some made-up British stereotype?”
I laughed in response, not bothering to smother the sound with any of the pillows surrounding us.
Her smile kicked up a notch, so I reached for her again.
* * *
I was fucked.
And now so was Jacqueline, by me, which was a problem.
I was pacing back and forth the next morning, checking my mobile in case Jacqueline needed a ride to work again. But it didn’t look like it. I was about to pocket my cell and get ready to head into the office when it started buzzing, and I practically dropped it from my fingers in an attempt to see who was calling.
My mum.
Shit .
I pressed answer, “Morning, I’m about to head into the office.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” My mother, Victoria (who I lovingly call Mummy), pouted as her dark eyes, which reminded me of Mary’s, widened, “I was hoping to catch you before you had to rush out the door.”
I double-checked the time, and nodded, “I don’t have a meeting until ten, so I can be a little late.” Plus, it would reduce the chance of Jacqueline and I awkwardly bumping into each other in the car park. I was confident when we left yesterday, and I blame that on the mind-numbing orgasm that Jacqueline pulled from me.
After a full night's sleep, though, I was feeling anxious about where she and I stood. How to move forward.
“Thank you for making time for your parents, even though you’re such a busy boy with a busy big-boy job,” she lifted a dark eyebrow, giving me a look that reminded me so much of Mary. My mother and Mary’s mother are sisters, but Mary and my mother shared their sense of humor the most.
“Please don’t refer to me as a big boy,” I rolled my eyes, “I’m a fully grown man.”
“But you’ll always be our special little boy,” my other mother, Lisa (Mama), spoke up from off-camera, “No matter how impressive your job title is.” Being raised by two mums wasn’t the easiest way to grow up in South London. Homophobia was alive and well during my adolescent years, which made navigating which of my schoolmates I formed crushes on much more complicated. Looking back, after figuring out societal expectations and finding friends and family who became safe spaces, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
There was about a year where I wondered who the sperm donor my mothers used was. Where he was. I was curious if he would provide a piece of my upbringing that I didn’t know I was missing. It was easy to look at my classmates who had fathers and feel left out.
It wasn’t until secondary school, when a teammate of mine saw both of my mothers sitting off of the pitch, cheering and waving hand-made signs for me, that I realized how well I had it.
“…I’d rather have two mums than my father any day,” he had murmured the comment under his breath during warm-ups before our rugby match, and those words stuck with me ever since.
“Where did you go?” Mama asked.
I had her blue eyes, but she had blonde hair whereas I had black. Genetics from the sperm donor pulled through for our family, because even though I was a white man, my black hair still looked similar to Mummy’s dark Chinese hair. I looked like a blend of the two of them.
“I just miss you both,” I sighed as I took a seat at my kitchen counter. My flat was still very bare because I was dragging my feet on decorating. Every time I thought about hanging up the art I bought, I sat on the couch and scrolled on my mobile or watched the telly instead.
“When can we come visit you?” Mama asked with her hands clasped under her chin, “We didn’t want to visit too early. We wanted to give you time to settle into your new home.”
I grinned, “You can come whenever. I know Mary would be excited to see you both.”
Mary was also an only child. Her parents ended up moving to California when we were very young. Thankfully, our mothers helped Mary and I maintain a close relationship through writing letters and later, when technology allowed, video calls. Social media also helped us stay close throughout adulthood.
We would take turns visiting each other’s families for the holidays, so while I wasn’t completely unfamiliar with Orange County, it was still the first time I was living here full-time.
“Tell us about Jamie,” Mummy wiggled her eyebrows, “Though, I have only heard good things.”
“Based on what I’ve seen, Jamie is perfect for her,” I agreed, “They’re very happy, even in the office. She seems like the perfect balance for Mary.”
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear it,” Mama sighed.
“She seems to smooth some of Mary’s rougher edges,” I drummed my fingers on the countertop, fidgeting.
Jacqueline had rough edges, but I didn’t consider those to be negative in any way. It just was who she was. A part of her that helped make up that beautiful brain that I still craved to learn more about.
“Are you interested in dating at all?” Mama asked. I panicked because it was as if she had just caught me thinking about Jacquline. I opened my mouth to respond but clamped it shut. I hesitated, but my mothers knew me too well. I saw both of their faces squish closer onto the little phone screen they were using to call.
“Oh my word, is he blushing? Leo, who are you seeing?” Mummy asked.
“He? She? They?” Mama followed up with.
“Um,” I cleared my throat, “I haven’t been dating, no. But also…she.”
Both of my mothers squealed, which made me want to simultaneously groan with embarrassment and hide in their embraces.
Perhaps I wasn’t as much of a grown man as I claimed.
They would always be my safe space. They were the ones who held my hand to help me understand my own sexuality. That I was allowed to be attracted to more than one type of person. They were the ones who sent me with condoms off to university. My mums never made me feel embarrassed or ashamed talking about the intimate matters of sexual relationships. They were the perfect balance of a listening ear, or a helpful sounding board when needed.
“Tell us about her,” Mama rested both of her fists under her chin, her blonde eyebrows rising.
“I…work with her,” I started with a wince.
“Lovely,” Mummy added, “Does Mary know her?”
“Yes—but she doesn’t know about our—or I guess my…feelings?” Why did I make it sound like a question? Like it was much more romantic than it was?
“What? Why?”
“They’re friends,” I frowned, “And she’s my coworker. Technically, I’m her superior. So, it’s not exactly the most ethical situation…she’s in Human Resources.”
“…What’s her name?” Lisa asked. I was surprised that she ignored my concern so quickly, but I ran with it.
I couldn’t stop a grin from spreading, “Jacqueline.”
“Oh, what a beautiful name,” Mama nodded in approval, her blonde bob bouncing with the movement, “Does Jacqueline know you fancy her?”
Well, I’d assume so, based on how eagerly she took my cock last night .
…I decided that it was okay to keep some secrets from my mums.
“Yeah, we’ve tiptoed around it,” I lifted a shoulder, “I don’t know how to navigate this at work, though. It’s very new, very early.”
“Well, you’re both adults who can keep things professional at work.” Mummy nodded.
Well, looks like I already fucked that up .
“And just be yourself,” Mama added, “Is she shy? You’ve always gravitated towards shy partners.”
I smirked, “Very.”
“Just let her be shy,” she continued, “You’re such a caring man, and I’m sure she’d be lucky to—” a loud beeping started echoing off camera, and both of my mother’s gazes lifted toward the kitchen, “Oh, bloody hell!”
“Lisa, why is the stove even on?” Mummy exclaimed. Both women scrambled, sharing amused laughter as they struggled to distinguish whatever my mother caught on fire this time. Unfortunately, her cooking randomly catching fire wasn’t an irregular occurrence.
“I need to head into the office anyway,” I smiled at the blurry image of both of my mums struggling to maintain the call while attempting to turn off the smoke alarm, “I love you.”
“We love you!” They yelled in unison before I ended the call.
I chuckled to myself, pocketing my phone, and ignoring the racing heart behind my ribs as I forced myself out the front door.
However, my mums’ reminder was a good one. Jacqueline was definitely what I would refer to as shy, unless of course, she thought she needed to step in and fulfill her duties as human resources. Then, she squared her shoulders and wouldn’t hold back giving employees a piece of her mind.
Maybe I was still under the spell created by her reciprocated lust, but I was able to view all those times she gave me grief in the office with a new light.
A light that didn’t make me feel guilty or problematic.
Sexual frustration was a real thing, one that I had been experiencing myself for the last few months.
I could only imagine how frustrated she’d been feeling around me, especially while knowing that I had been the only one to make her orgasm. I understood just how needy she had been feeling this whole time. Because I was the first partner to help her reach her pleasure.
That was why she looked so surprised every time she came that night. She genuinely was. The realization was shocking since it felt like she was so responsive to me. I had just assumed Jacqueline was a woman who had no difficulty getting off.
And getting off again.
And again.
This is how I knew I identified as a man because something primal filled my lungs at the knowledge that I was unique to Jacqueline in this way. Something borderline barbaric, that made me eager to see if I could continue to prove this phenomenon true for her.
Something that made me want to see that wide-eyed, shocked, and euphoric expression coat her features as much as humanly possible.
But, as I straddled my bike and took off towards Sun Steer, I knew I needed to cool it. There was a very good chance that Jacqueline wouldn’t want me in that way again, and even though I would respect her boundaries if that was the case, I really hoped she would.
* * *
The next day, I could feel burnout approaching me.
No amount of caffeine was helping me stay focused. Adderall had some side effects, and it was affecting my depressive state more than it had in the past, so instead I relied on caffeine to maintain what I needed to get done every day. Sure, my heart would probably end up failing me in my fifties or so, but at least I could say that I had lived a full life until that happened.
Currently, I could feel the exhaustion in my body and my inability to keep track of basic conversations in the office. Meetings felt more monotonous than usual.
I had even missed a few glances from Jacqueline a moment too late, making me internally kick myself. What if she had been giving me an inviting look and I missed it? I didn’t want to miss any unspoken signals from her in case she offered them. But I was starting to find it difficult to manage my focus between taking meetings and preparing reports for managers, instead of remembering how divine it felt to be inside of Jacqueline.
I was a simple man, after all.
Jacqueline and I had kept our distance. It was as if we were back to how we were before. Except less hostile. I would never describe Jacqueline as a woman filled with sunshine and roses. Instead, Jacqueline was reserved. Quiet. Willing to share a laugh with her louder coworkers, like Signe and Mary, but never willing to be the center of attention herself.
I would pass by her in the hallway, unable to help myself as I noted every detail I could. How when she wore jeans into the office, they complemented the soft curves of her hips and arse. How they flared near her feet, showing off her sneakers. Her work blouse was appropriately buttoned, but she would tuck a small section in the front of her jeans. This made the shirts look less oversized.
She definitely preferred her hair up, I realized. Either in a bun or a pony-tail. She hardly ever wore it down, unlike how I first met her.
“Leo—” Currently, everyone was sitting together in the largest conference room while Brandon went over what he claimed to be an exciting announcement.
We had already had an all-hands meeting a few weeks ago. That is what Sun Steer called a quarterly meeting where the entire company got together and went over the numbers regarding how well we were doing. What goals we met, what goals we didn’t, things like that.
So for Brandon to call another all-hands meeting a few weeks later, everyone seemed to be on edge. There was a nervous energy in the room up until Brandon walked to the front, getting things started with an excited look in his eye.
As soon as he started speaking, everyone realized it was good news.
Boson Motors had finished building what we hoped to be the very first machines powered by Sun Steer Technologies. Tractors, combines, and ATVs were getting polished and ready to upload the software everyone had been busting their arse to build.
Relaxing a bit helped, but my brain wasn’t cooperating with me today.
I struggled to stay focused during the meeting. Perhaps it was because of my ADHD, or perhaps it was because I was sitting next to a certain brunette who I had recently shagged on her desk.
Who’s to say, really?
Thankfully, when Brandon mentioned my name and I jerked my head forward, it was obvious he was simply mentioning me. Not addressing me. I relaxed a little in my seat, my legs stretched out underneath the long conference table as I fought the urge to move my hands.
I eyed Mary across the table from me, who looked very bored and unfocused in the meeting. Whereas I was struggling to stay focused, Mary looked like she didn’t even bother to pretend to. She could have been sleeping with her eyes open for all I knew.
But I was in upper management.
I needed to set an example, and look excited about this update, instead of also wishing this meeting was just an email.
I shoved my hands in my pockets, but my fingers still tapped. The movement was restricted, and it didn’t satisfy the need I had to ground myself with repetitive movement.
Suddenly, Zaid’s name was mentioned followed by a soft round of applause.
I clapped too, smiling at the former CTO when he looked bashful from the attention, ducking his head a little as he faced the conference table in his seat.
I tried to look back up again, but my eyes kept wandering against my will. It wasn’t like I actively tried to think about something else, sometimes my brain just took over. All I kept thinking was Jacqueline is sitting next to me in jeans . Jacqueline is sitting next to me in jeans. Jacqueline is sitting next to me, smelling like vanilla and roses, in jeans . Jeans that were just as distracting as those bloody pencil skirts she loved to wear.
I scraped a hand down my face, struggling to sit still.
Fidgeting helped ground me, and I couldn’t find a single pen or anything on this massive table. Working at a tech company, pens and paper were rare. Everything got done on computers or iPads or phones. Nothing needed to be written down traditionally. I only kept a package of pens at my desks specifically for me to fidget with.
But did I remember to bring one to this meeting? No.
I didn’t think excusing myself just to grab a pen to twirl in my fingers seemed appropriate or respectable, so I sat here and suffered instead.
I released a sigh, annoyed with myself for again losing focus when I felt a gentle tap on my thigh.
The thigh closest to Jacqueline.
I froze, wondering if I imagined the contact. We were in a meeting, surrounded by dozens and dozens of employees who weren’t working from home today. Would she really be so bold as to touch me?
Tap, tap .
I guess so.
Attempting to be sly and not on the verge of jumping out of my chair, I glanced down to see a pen against my thigh. I looked around, confirming that nobody was looking at us, before I focused on her.
She wasn’t looking at me.
She was scrolling on her iPad, following along with the presentation Brandon had up on the projector. In her hand, below the table where nobody else could see, Jacqueline silently offered me the digital pen that was paired with her iPad.
Something warm and thrilling filled my lungs at the realization of what was happening. Though I was taking too long to respond, because without looking up at all, Jacqueline tapped the pen on my thigh again. Tap, tap, tap .
I fought a grin when I finally slid the pen out of her fingers, careful not to touch her skin with mine.
Underneath the table, one hand resting on my leg, I twirled the pen like I usually did.
My mind and body almost immediately relaxed.
I inhaled a deep breath to help calm my anxious nerves, focusing on the familiar movement of twirling the pen again and again.
I snuck another peak at Jacqueline by my side, but she still didn’t look at me. She lifted her gaze and, I swear to god, was entirely focused on Brandon’s meeting.
So I tried to do the same.
Suddenly, Brandon stopped talking, and everyone checked their phones and watches while he pulled something else up on his laptop for the meeting.
“This is so exciting,” I heard the blue-haired woman murmur on Jacqueline’s other side. I leaned forward in my seat to glance at her, wondering if she could provide additional context for what was happening.
“It’s pretty cool,” Jacqueline whispered back with a nod. When she saw me leaning forward, listening to her, and the other employee’s conversation, she gave me a frown.
But not a disapproving frown.
No, this was one of my favorite Jacqueline frowns. It was a frown that looked like an upside-down smile. Her eyes crinkled in the corners, and her lips softened with the movement. It was a frown designed to hide her true feelings, which I assumed was something positive as her gaze dropped to the pen moving in between my fingers.
I gave her a small, professional smile in return in an attempt to communicate my appreciation.
“Okay, here we go,” Brandon announced, making us all sit straighter while the screen displayed a FaceTime call.
The name at the top of the screen just said “Graham” and I was still lost.
Finally, the call connected, and a moment later the screen was filled with what looked like a dirt field.
“Graham,” Brandon spoke as he smiled up at the screen, “Flip your camera.”
“Huh?” A deep voice responded, echoing through the conference room.
“Oh, my,” the blue-haired woman whispered to Jacqueline. I glanced to my side just in time to see Jacqueline smile at her before facing forward again.
“We see the field,” Brandon explained as he turned his own laptop to face all of us, “Flip your camera. Say hi to everyone.”
The image blurred for half a second before a man’s face filled the screen. His eyes were squinting under the rim of his cowboy hat, and then he turned to face away from the sun so he could properly view his screen.
“Oh my god,” the blue-haired employee—Violet! Her name was Violet—breathed.
I fought a laugh at her response before I glanced over and saw Jacqueline staring wide-eyed at the handsome man’s face projected on the screen too.
Pardon ?
I focused back on the call, taking in all his features.
He looked a lot like Brandon, and after clocking his hazel eyes and sandy blonde hair, I figured this must have been Brandon’s brother up in Northern California. The only difference was that this man spent way more time in the sun and had a full blonde beard. Suddenly, everything was making sense. Brandon had mentioned FaceTiming his brother when we were ready to merge Boson Motors’ and Sun Steer’s tech, letting everyone in the company meet the owner of the first farm who would be using the machinery.
It was a momentous step in the company, and if all the machinery worked well, who's to say how it would change the agricultural industry as a whole.
But based on how the women in the office looked staring up at the rugged man with a baritone voice, I had a feeling none of them cared at all about the company’s progress. They all might as well have had hearts in their eyes. Well, not every woman. Mary and Nicole were looking very indifferent.
“Hello everyone.” Graham Moore clearly wasn’t comfortable on video calls, his wave was awkward and stiff, and he swallowed once after saying hello. He even went as far as to tug on the collar of his t-shirt, which was sweat-stained and covered in patches of dirt.
“Hi!” Everyone in the office waved, but the women specifically projected their greetings. I glanced down at Jacqueline, having heard her enthusiastically greet the CEO’s brother. I lifted an eyebrow at her, and when a warm flush stained her cheeks as she scowled at me, my smile kicked up a notch.
“Is it hot in here?” Violet asked in a whisper meant to be heard by those surrounding us. I chuckled, whereas Jacqueline shook her head in disapproval, fully pretending she wasn’t as infatuated with Brandon’s handsome brother as the other women.
I pulled my phone out, keeping it close and low under the table, so no one could read over my shoulder.
Me: Is he your type?
I lifted my head, barely paying attention to Graham’s awkward greeting and introduction to Moore Farms. That was because, in the corner of my vision, I saw Jacqueline shift to pull her phone out of her jeans pocket.
I held my breath as I waited for her to respond, counting to three before checking my phone after it buzzed in my hand.
Jacqueline: I don’t have a type.
I raised my eyebrows, but Violet’s sudden, “Huh?” made me forget the text thread.
I glanced up, seeing color bloom across Violet’s cheeks, somehow making her blue hair look brighter.
“I said,” Brandon nodded toward her, not registering her surprise at all, “Once Boson ships their equipment, you’ll be traveling to Northern California to maintain and oversee the technology there. To provide onsite maintenance.”
I lifted an eyebrow, wondering why this was a surprise to Violet. She was a systems engineer. She was hired specifically to oversee the tech in action. Perhaps she was expecting to work remotely?
“Oh,” Violet cleared her throat and nodded, “Yes, of course. I’m looking forward to it.” She threw a thumbs up back, which weirdly, didn’t convince me of her confidence.
Graham squinted his eyes on the screen, “I didn’t quite catch that. I can’t see everyone that well, who exactly is coming?”
Brandon repeated, “Our systems engineer.”
“Ah, perfect. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” Signe cackled, slapping her hand over her mouth. Zaid’s shoulders were shaking with silent laughter too, and Brandon pinched the bridge of his nose while fighting a smile of his own.
“You’re in a company meeting, Graham.”
“Oh shi—sorry. I’m sorry everyone,” he waved again, “I should go. Thanks for introducing me to all the talented minds making this possible.” He sounded genuine, which was nice and all, but I didn’t actually care because my focus wasn’t on this meeting at all. Even with the iPad pen to fidget with. I couldn’t help but side-eye Jacqueline next to me.
She kept her phone face-down on her leg, scrolling on her iPad, ignoring everyone around her.
So I finally replied.
Me: If you happen to be in the mood for your favorite Englishman again, just say the word.
* * *
I was walking back to my office after the meeting, finally getting a bearing on what was going on with the company. Jacqueline never responded to my text, but she did read it, and I thought I saw her lips twitch positively before she tucked the phone back into her jeans.
I felt a little better about where she and I stood. Even if she and I didn’t shag again, perhaps we could maintain this positive comradery. As I walked toward my office, the pen in my fingertips twirled and twirled. I was in a better, more stable mood. I smiled at the employees I passed, before glancing down.
…Jacqueline would probably want her pen back.
Though I couldn’t lie and say I didn’t feel the equivalent of butterflies in my chest at the realization that Jacqueline had just helped me in a very unique, observant way. Somehow, during all the months that I worked here and she bickered at me, Jacqueline picked up on this very unique tell I had.
I did my best work when I had something to keep my hands busy. A physical type of anchor to get my mind to focus on what I needed to focus on.
Did she know I had ADHD? Did Mary tell her? Did Jacqueline discover this all on her own?
What was my body language like in that meeting for Jacqueline to pick up on my angsty energy, so much so that she gave me the pen to her iPad?
I turned, ignoring my office and heading for hers, determined to give her pen back.
Before I left, I looked around the empty room. Jacqueline’s office was calm, a fig tree planted in a pot against the wall. The colors were painted a neutral warm cream, with no overhead lights on. Only two lamps cast a soft yellow glow. She had a seat cushion on her desk chair and a snake plant next to her monitor.
I trailed my finger up one leaf of the snake plant, before noticing the note attached. I flicked it open, seeing what looked like an apology note from Zaid Ansara.
I snickered, wondering what wrath Jacqueline set upon him to justify such an apology.
Part of me was wondering how I missed the detail of this plant on her desk the last time I was in there. How this plant didn’t get knocked off of her desk during our tryst.
I shook my head, scraping a hand down my face to get my mind back on less perverted memories. I pulled open the first drawer on her desk and found a small pad of sticky notes, before peeling one off and finding a real pen to use.
Thank you
Then I set the iPad pen right next to my note, before strolling out and making my way back to my own office.
This doesn’t mean she wants you to fuck her again , I reminded myself as I plopped down in my desk chair. I would need Jacqueline’s explicit verbal consent to revisit something like that, and nothing less. I used the toe of my boot to kick open my mini fridge, before reaching in to grab a can of soda.
I ignored all the terrible ingredients the US pumped into their beverages and took a few large gulps of the caffeine, Red Dye 40, and all. After setting the can on my desk, I reached over my keyboard to find one of my own pens to twirl in my hand.
I just had one more meeting at the end of the week, and then I could take the weekend to myself to recover. Everything was starting to become too much, but also not enough.