Chapter 3
The meeting was over as I looked down at my watch for the time.
It was a little after seven thirty when we stepped onto the elevator to go back up to Avery’s office.
I was nervous when the receptionist called me and told me not to leave the building and that Mr. West would be down to meet with me.
I thought for sure he was going to tell me that I wasn’t a good fit or that I knew too much of his business, since I knew he was a private man.
Howbeit, when he told me I was starting on the spot, I got super excited but didn’t show it outwardly.
I just took out my pen and pad and rose to the occasion.
Now, he wanted me to follow him up to his office.
I had no idea what else he wanted me to do, but I was mad I’d be missing Sistas tonight. I made sure to tell Jen to record it for me on our way out of the conference room. I planned to watch it at her place over the weekend.
“When is Amerie’s ceremony again?” Emani asked, once we were on the elevator.
Emani was beautiful. She had beautiful, dark blemish-free skin, hazel eyes, and wore her hair in a short pixie cut.
Her designer pantsuit fit her slim-thick frame, and the designer heels to match gave her, my guess, five-nine height more length.
I wonder if they’re more than friends .
It wasn’t my business, but they did look like they would make a great couple.
“Saturday, and your ass better be there . . . on time.”
Emani fanned her pretty manicured fingers at him. “Boy, please. I’m always on time.”
“Lies you tell.”
“Anyway. What does she want for graduation?”
“What every senior graduating high school wants. A car her bighead ass don’t have the money or job to pay for.”
“Big bro got it, so that’s all that matters.”
“Like hell. She better ask her damn parents.”
Emani laughed. “You know good and well you already got the car she wants. I don’t know why you always frontin’.”
“I ain’t get shit.”
“Yeah, okay. You really need to get laid, brother. This attitude you have can’t be good for anyone. You need to release, you know, get your blood flowing so you won’t get high blood pressure.”
I giggled as they both looked at me.
Oh shit. Lay, you idiot. You’re supposed to be seen, not heard .
“Sorry,” I offered while putting my head down.
“No need to be sorry, beautiful. It is funny, and sad if you ask me.” Emani smiled at me and winked just as the elevator door opened to the eleventh floor.
“See you Saturday, Mr. Grump. And make sure you give Richard at Glover’s Warehouse a call before you leave.
He needs you to pick up those champagne glasses for the anniversary party tomorrow at ten a.m. Something about he’ll be out of the country Saturday and gone for the rest of the month, so don’t forget. ”
“I’ll be glad when people stop asking me to do shit all the time. I have enough on my plate to deal with.”
“Well, that’s what you have Ms. Grant for now.” She smiled at me again as her eyes perused me from head to toe before she walked off, and the elevator doors closed, . . . trapping me and Mr. Fine Ass West inside alone.
Was she flirting with me?
I was slightly nervous to be in this space with him alone. His cologne was sending all kinds of sexy signals to my body. I was glad the twelfth floor was the last floor of the building and that it was a short ride before we were let off.
“I’ll let you go in a minute. I need you to do one last thing for me before we part ways for the night,” he said while we walked inside of his office.
“Okay.”
“And don’t forget to watch your step.” He partially smiled, displaying humor.
Humor for the second time today. How nice .
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied. The aroma of seafood permeated the air, making my stomach growl from hunger. I only had a sandwich for lunch, and that was over six hours ago before I came to do the interview.
“I’m going to use the restroom. When I come out, you can go in.”
“Oh, I don’t have to use the restroom,” I told him.
“We’re about to eat, so you might want to wash your hands. I hope you aren’t allergic. I should have asked before I had you order.”
“Oh!” I chirped. “No, I’m not allergic, and thank you for thinking of me.”
“Don’t listen to the bullshit these people say about me.
I treat my employees well and pay their asses well too.
I’m nice until I’m not.” The wink he shot me could have dropped my skirt.
I looked away, trying to hide my blush, while he went into the restroom.
I hurried over to the chair, taking out my compact mirror, checking my teeth for lipstick stains, and making sure my hair was still secured in the bun.
When I realized what I was doing, I instantly closed the mirror.
Layne, what are you doing?
This was my boss. I was sure he had a no fraternizing policy in place.
But did that apply to him since this was his place of business?
He’s probably not even interested in me like that.
I was sure the policy went for him, too, since he was probably the one who set the rule.
A few moments later, he emerged from the restroom. “It’s all yours, lo—Ms. Grant.”
What was he about to call me?
I stood from the chair and quickly made my way to the restroom. I needed to calm myself down because this was not what my vagina thought it was.
You cannot fuck your boss, girl! I scolded myself.
I had my fair share of fuck boys in my life to know better than to lust after this man. Albeit, Avery may not have been one of those fuck boys, but he was still my boss. Sex hadn’t been on my mind for over five months, which was probably the reason my vagina was acting out.
I did a quick washing of my hands and gave my face a onceover, before leaving the restroom and joining him at his desk. He had taken all the food from the containers, placing it on porcelain plates I didn’t know he had, along with silverware on top of cloth napkins.
Fancy.
“Thank you again for this. I was starving.”
“Anytime . . . I’m going to always make sure you eat.” The way he said it so casually seductive had me once again trying to hide my blush.
“It will be appreciated.”
He nodded, taking a seat. “So, I hope you don’t mind if I pick your brain a little more.
I figured since we’re having dinner together, I could get a little bit of your background since it’ll be a couple days before your background check comes through,” he said, shedding his jacket and draping it over his chair.
He began rolling up his sleeves, showcasing the graffiti riddled on his forearms. I knew there was something mysterious about him.
He may have dressed the part of a multi-millionaire, but beneath the surface and his vernacular told a different story.
“I don’t see why not. What would you like to know?”
“Where are you from?”
“Howell, Michigan, . . . the Livingston County area.”
He chuckled. And what a beautiful chuckle it was. “Now I see why you sound so damn proper. You were out there playing in the snow.”
“I do not sound proper!” I giggled. I placed a shrimp in my mouth. The savory taste made sweet love to my tastebuds.
“Of course you’d think that. But I also hear and see that melanin flavor somewhere in there. The combination of the two is intriguing. How old are you?”
“I’ll be twenty-six in December.”
“Oh yeah? What day?”
“The eighteenth.”
“I’m the fourteenth. I’ll be thirty-six.”
I smiled. “I’m aware.”
“Oh, right. Outside of work shit, how much do you know about me? Be honest.”
“Not much. I only know what I already told you and your birthday. I worried about applying here . . . FYI, you do come off a little mean-spirited, but I know your heart is good.”
“Why were you worried?”
“Because . . . some of what I heard, I know to be true.” I smirked a little, twirling my fork to gather my pasta.
“I’m not mean, Ms. Grant. I just have zero tolerance for bullshit.”
“I know that too. It’s a defense mechanism. I’m not all into zodiacs or whatnot, but I know that we’re guarded people. We try to protect ourselves from all angles, . . . hence our signs being half-horse, half-human. The bow and arrow is our defense tactic.
“A horse’s natural instinct is to kick when they feel threatened. You try to come for us head-on, you’re most likely going to get your heart pierced—our sharp tongues are the arrows. However, the human part of us has natural instincts as well.
“It’s the part of us that allows us to love, to feel, and to live. If a Sagittarius loves you, you have our loyalty and love for life. Mess over us, and the relationship would never be the same again.” He wiped his mouth then leaned back in his chair, staring at me.
I hope I’m not talking too much.
I continued eating as a bout of silence made my forehead perspire. I didn’t know why I said all of that, but I needed him to know that I knew what type of person he was.
He was me.
In male form.
I may have been more vulnerable than he was because of my femininity and nurturing spirit, but everything else I said about our sign was dead on.
“I like you,” he blurted. “I mean, as a person,” he clarified.
I smirked. “I know.”
“You have any siblings?” he asked.
“Nope. I’m an only child. You?”
“A little sister who thinks she’s my daughter.”
I smiled. “That’s super cute.”
“Like hell it is. She really acts as if our parents don’t exist when it comes to the expensive shit she wants.”
“Well, looks like you’ll be getting little sis her first car. She deserves it since she’s graduating. You look like you got it to spare, homie.”
He guffawed before taking a sip of his drink.
“Your attempt at slang is cute.” He chuckled some more, then continued with his line of questioning.
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Red. I like black, too, but mostly red. Why?”
“Just asking. I like black and gray.”
“Really? I don’t think I’d ever met anyone who says their favorite color is gray.”
“I’m not like other people.”
You certainly are not .