CHAPTER TWELVE
EMILY
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T he absolute audacity of the man.
I sip my drink, dancing on the spot as Terri and Donna from reception, along with a few other Remington employees, do the same.
I’m a little drunk.
Which I desperately needed to be, because I’ve almost told Terri everything about ten times.
He touched me.
He told me he wants to fuck me.
He’d demanded I attend a dinner with him this Sunday, all while being engaged to someone else.
It’s not okay!
“How’s Sebastian been to work with?”
Terrible.
I want to strip naked in his office and beg him to fuck me. I’m going to hell because I already gave him a blow job and now I know he’s engaged, and it doesn’t change my attraction to him.
Luckily, I packed my vibrator because I am absolutely not letting that man go any further than he did today. It might have just been my bottom lip, but I swear I was this close to climaxing.
“Great. He’s very professional,” I say instead.
My god, the lies are just sliding off my tongue.
“I don’t know why he’s single.” Donna sucks on her straw, finishing her vodka, and shakes the ice in the bottom of her glass. “He’s rich, successful, and hot as sin.”
Single?
So nobody knows he’s engaged? Is that weird?
“Donna!” Terri laughs. “He’s our boss.”
“Yeah, well, I read workplace romances, and I’d happily let him tug me into the stationery closet and rip my dress up.” Donna wiggles her hips, and I let out a groan that thankfully no one can hear.
I gulp down my gin.
“There’s no risk of me wanting to do that with Victor.”
We all laugh at Terri’s joke because while he’s an averagely okay looking guy, Victor’s a bit of an asshole.
I can’t help myself. “So Sebastian is single. Not married?”
They both shake their heads.
Interesting.
“Does he...date?” I ask casually, as if I’m only half interested.
The two of them glance at one another in question and then shake their heads once more.
“I mean, he’s been photographed with women, like most of the billionaires in the city. The gossip columns keep trying to pin him with someone, but it’s just that. Gossip.” Donna confirms. “But not really. He doesn’t have a reputation, you know?”
“Oh, that’s good. I mean, not that it matters to me, but it’s good to know a slew of women aren’t going to be turning up each week.”
“Mr. Remington keeps his private life very private.” Terri shares.
“Ladies, how is your evening going?” A tall blond guy, part of a group of suits who have been watching us for the past ten minutes, asks.
They all join us.
“We’re all pregnant. Keep walking.” Terri shoots them a daring look.
I’ve never seen three men disappear so fast.
I give her a questioning look as I laugh.
“Traders. Wall Street. Do not hook up with them.” She lifts her beer and takes a long drag, then holds it up in front of her face and chuckles. “They’re clearly not that smart.”
I giggle.
“Yeah, their bank accounts are almost as big as their egos.” Donna leans behind me and slides her empty glass along the bar. “Love this song. Let’s dance.”
She tugs my hand, and when Terri grabs my drink, I laugh and let her drag me onto the dance floor. In seconds we’re surrounded by guys. I pull the clip out of my hair and relax, lifting my arms into the air.
This is what I thought my life in New York was going to be like. Fun and free.
Over the next few hours, we dance and flirt with loads of handsome American men, and I almost forget about Sebastian.
Except I think I see him a dozen times.
Every broad chest has me blinking and looking twice. Every man with dark, slightly curly hair makes me stop for a microsecond. Even a square jawline creates an ache between my legs that feels unfulfilled.
“God your accent is sexy,” one guy says as he grips my hips. “Shall we head out?”
I know what that means.
Shall we fuck?
I’ve been dancing with him for less than five minutes.
Tempted, I narrow my eyes. If I can forget about Sebastian and think of him only as my boss, then perhaps my job will be safe.
I’ll tell him I have a boyfriend, and I bet he’d stop saying things like he did tonight. Things that have my panties wet.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Terri and Donna waving to say they’re leaving.
“I have to go.” I slip out of his hold and rush over to the girls.
“Stay if you like him,” Donna says.
“No.” I wave them off. “He’s cute but...”
Someone bumps into us, saving me from coming up with an excuse.
Sleeping with someone and facing Sebastian on Sunday, despite the fact he has a fiancée, just feels wrong.
Tomorrow I plan to sleep in, go for a run in Central Park, then get a dress and shoes for Sunday’s dinner.
I need to take some time to think about what I do if he decides he can’t work with me. I could turn this around by somehow being of some value.
If not, I’ll be buying a ticket home to London.