Alex
My self-control has reached new heights. Almost—if I hadn’t made that stupid comment about seeing the rabbits on her underwear. Of course, she knew I saw. Her skirt had practically flown up to her face.
It’s her fault, really. New York has shown that skirts are risky business. Street vents, crazy drivers, men with mirrors on their shoes.
It’s the kind of place where you want to look hot, but pants are just more practical. And if Hailee had worn them today, I wouldn’t have this image burned into my head.
The two perfect halves of her ass, tanned, just below my hand. My best friend’s little sister on my lap. Her underwear wasn’t necessarily sexy, but her embarrassment sure was.
But I should blame the guy who blew the red light. Not Hailee’s choice of dress. But when it comes down to it, he didn’t give me an erection before the most important press conference I’ve had to give in months.
I take another look at Hailee before I head inside.
She’s still on the sidewalk and doesn’t notice my gaze. Her dark complexion, brown hair, and brown eyes come together to make a color-coordinated beauty.
There’s something harmonized to her looks. Every piece fits. Like even if you didn’t see the color of her eyes or the shade of the freckle on her nose, you could guess.
Her cheeks are plump and rosy, but her eyes are so doe-y that they give her a sorrowful look, even though she’s always so cheery.
Her looks have always been a temptation.
I’ve had to pretend she doesn’t exist since she started at the company, or I would have taken her into the break room and added her to the collection by now. Another jewel in the box. But Lucas would hate me, and business needs to stay business.
I wish I could say I knew Hailee would want me to take her. She can be hard to read. Sometimes I think she’s turned on. Other times I think she hates guys like me.
But being cold is a cost of business. Once a quarter I have to watch Hailee take over meetings to beam about our clean energy initiatives and nature rehabilitation. She’s one of those people who genuinely cares. One of those people whose joy hasn’t been squeezed out of them.
Those people don’t make me feel guilty about my own ambition. I don’t feel guilt for who I am or what I’ve accomplished. I pity them. People who don’t understand the kind of strength and callousness the real world takes. If it wasn’t my mining company tearing up a forest, it would be another one, and then I’d be stuck at some desk job while some other young bright kid reaps the riches of the world.
Besides, chaining yourself in the path of a bulldozer is more about ego to those people than it is about changing the world. Let’s be clear on the origin of the hippie—the first man who tied himself to a tree did it to impress a woman.
Not the tree.
I guess the same could be said for most humans’ actions. It’s always about sex at the end of day, isn’t it? That’s what I tell myself, but maybe I think about the bedroom more than most people.
The little incident with Hailee has me so riled up that I’m texting Paige, my latest fling. She’s a buxom blonde. And can I say banal?
Maybe the look isn’t in at the moment. Or maybe it’s just because Paige is not Hailee, but when I open the picture Paige just texted me of her breasts pressed together, I can’t help but sigh and look back towards the entrance Hailee will be walking through any…
And there she is.
Her big, innocent eyes find me right away.
That’s Lucas’s little sister . “Stop,” I say aloud, startling the people around me. My thoughts trail off, but I’m still looking at Hailee.
I haven’t locked eyes with her before. Like I said, she always avoids my gaze when I catch her looking at me, but this time, she stares back, but it’s only for a second before I tear my eyes away.
That’s it. Just a taste. Now it’s back to business. This is what I’ve been working towards for years. It’s time to focus. I straighten my tie and narrow my eyes. There are people in this room—press, competitors—who’d rather see me dead than successful. They expect this money-laundering news to tank me, but it’s going to do the opposite.
It’s an anchor on their ankles, not mine.
They just don’t know it yet.