Chapter 22
Sutton
The following week got harder with each day that passed.
It wasn’t like I’d expected flowers, but I’d stupidly gotten my hopes up that Jagger would make some contact.
But it was already Wednesday, and I hadn’t heard or seen hide nor hair of the boss.
The fact that I knew he was somewhere in the building made it even worse.
Because it would’ve been so easy for him to reach me.
My disappointment was palpable. There was a pet store a few doors down from the coffee shop I stopped at every morning to pick up a bagel, and this poor basset hound sat in the window staring outside, looking so sad. I’d realized today when I passed that I felt like he did.
I needed to pull myself out of this glum mood, but that was easier said than done when Jagger’s name was frequently mentioned at work.
Today it was because he’d been personally named in a lawsuit the DOJ had filed against Apex, alleging that their algorithm violated the rules against price-fixing stocks, though somehow without ever having direct communication with the companies themselves.
It was way above my basic legal knowledge, but I’d listened intently as one of the executives explained the government’s position during the morning briefing.
A little while later, I was at my desk reading more about it when Jack stopped by.
“Hey.” He lifted his chin to my screen. “I see my department isn’t the only one trying to figure out how the hell the DOJ is making the connection between the algo and price fixing.”
I smiled. “Yeah, it’s definitely interesting.”
He smiled and held up his mug. “I’m guessing this might not be my last trip of the day to fix myself the good stuff.
Looks like we’re going to be here all day and night.
I already heard Langston is on the warpath and expects us to understand the nine-hundred-page document the DOJ put together by morning, even though we found out about it at the same time he did today. ”
Maybe this was the reason Jagger hadn’t made contact this week. Maybe it had nothing to do with me. He was just tied up putting out a potential fire. I exhaled and nodded. “That should keep you all busy.”
“I need to get back downstairs, but I’ve been meaning to stop by and talk to you. Have you ever heard of Big Snow?”
“I don’t think so?”
“It’s an indoor skiing and snowboarding place near the Meadowlands.”
“Really? Indoor?”
He laughed. “I know, seems odd. But they have chairlifts and everything. A couple of my buddies and I went in May when they had a special snowboarding event, and we had a blast. I wanted to see if you’d be interested in going next weekend.”
“That sounds like fun. Are your buddies who are going people from work?”
“Actually, my buddies went last time. I was asking if you wanted to go—just me and you next weekend.”
“Oh.”
I was grateful that my desk phone rang, interrupting our conversation. “Excuse me.”
The digital preview told me the call was coming from inside the building, yet I still wasn’t prepared for the voice that spoke.
“He has much more pressing things he should be working on.”
Jagger. My eyes widened. He was watching me over the security feed again.
“Umm…hi.”
I turned back around to face Jack, but my gaze stretched over his shoulder to the round globe in the ceiling.
I hadn’t realized how obvious I was until Jack turned and followed my line of sight.
Shoot. Not wanting to explain, and definitely not wanting to answer the question he’d asked me while on the phone with Jagger, I pointed to the receiver and then covered the mouthpiece of the phone. “I need to take this.”
He nodded and lifted a hand in a silent wave as he started to walk away, so I took my hand off the mouthpiece—just as he called over his shoulder, “Let me know about next weekend whenever you have time.”
Jack was barely out of my earshot when Jagger’s voice came through the line.
“What’s next weekend?”
I looked up at the camera. “How long have you been watching me?”
“Today or in general? And you didn’t answer my question.”
“Well, both, I guess. And I’ll answer your question after you answer mine.”
The line went silent, but I knew Jagger was still there. “Since your first day, and you were later than usual this morning.”
“I stopped into the pet store a few doors down to ask if I could pet one of their dogs that looked like he needed it.”
“If you’re interested in cheering up animals that look down in the dumps, maybe you should come up to the fifty-ninth floor today.”
I smiled, still staring at the camera. “Don’t tempt me, Mr. Langston.”
“Fuck.” He groaned. “Don’t call me that while we’re at the office.”
My pulse picked up. “Where would you like me to call you that?”
“I’m guessing you know the answer.” He paused. “Did you lose something last weekend?”
My brows dipped. “Lose some—oh wait, did you find my anklet?”
“Gold with a star?”
“Yes! I was wondering if I lost it at your place.”
“If you wondered, why didn’t you call and ask?”
I looked up at the security globe again. “If you found it, why didn’t you call and tell me?”
Jagger’s low rumble of a laugh shot through me like a rocket, the vibration doing all sorts of things between my legs.
“Touché,” he said, and I heard the smile in his voice. “The anklet is broken, by the way. I hope it wasn’t important to you.”
“Not really. It was actually a gift from Brendan, but I liked it. I probably won’t even get it fixed.”
Again, Jagger was quiet a moment. “So what is next weekend?”
I’d gotten lost in our ping-pong match of a conversation, so it took me a few beats to catch back up. “Oh. Jack knows I like snowboarding, so he invited me to an indoor park. Apparently they have one in New Jersey.”
More silence. “And? Are you going?”
I didn’t even have to think about it. I wasn’t going to go, not when it was a date and not with a group of people. But Jagger didn’t need to know that. Turning back to my desk, so he couldn’t see my face, I lied. “I haven’t decided yet.”
This time the phone line went dead quiet for a full thirty seconds. That might not sound like a long time, but on a call, it really is. During the stand-off, I tossed around telling Jagger I might not go if I got a better offer, but again, I thought better of it.
“Why did it take Jack stopping by my desk to get you to want to call me?”
“I’ve wanted to call you since five minutes after you left on Sunday morning. It’s not a matter of want, Sutton.”
“Then what is it a matter of?”
“Self-control. You’re better off with someone who’s capable of giving you what you need. I know that, so I’m doing my best to keep my distance. Yet for some reason that guy just irks me, and I snapped.”
“What is it that you think I need, exactly?”
“A relationship with a nice guy who doesn’t dream about fucking you while holding your throat in his hand so tightly you’ll have to wear a scarf for a week.”
I should’ve been scared, especially with my history, but the visual of him doing that turned me on so much, it made me a little dizzy.
Jagger’s voice was gruff. “I have to go.”
“But—”
“Go home on time tonight, Sutton.”
***
Hours later, I’d just lifted my purse to my shoulder, getting ready to leave, when my desk phone rang again. My heart rate sped up, only to be disappointed when I saw it was the receptionist calling.
“Hi, Amara,” I answered.
“Hey, Sutton. A messenger just delivered a package for you.”
“Are you sure it’s for me?”
“I’m looking at your name written across the top.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“I’d bring it to you, but I’m helping cover the overflow calls on the executive line. The phones haven’t stopped ringing since that DOJ announcement this morning, so it’s hard to leave my desk.”
“No problem. I was just getting ready to leave anyway. I’ll pick it up on my way out.”
A small box wrapped in plain brown paper sat next to Amara at the reception desk.
It made me laugh to myself as I approached because it looked like the same kind of discreet packaging my vibrators were delivered in.
Though as soon as I saw the bold, slashy handwriting on the top, I realized it was something way better than a toy. Jagger.
“Secret admirer?” Amara smiled.
“No, uh, I forgot I ordered some supplies.”
Luckily the phone rang and stopped her from asking any other questions, and I was able to scoop up the box and rush off to the elevator with it.
I had no clue what could be inside, but too many people were in the car to rip it open and find out.
I thought about ducking into a corner when I hit the lobby, but while I was looking around for a quiet spot, I noticed the security globe on the ceiling—the same kind as on my floor—and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be watched while I opened whatever was inside.
So I pushed through the turnstile and out onto the street, but it was five thirty on a weekday in New York City, and the sidewalks were bustling.
Since it didn’t look like I was going to have a safe place to open the box until I got home, I attempted to ignore it and took the steps down to the subway.
Though by the time I’d stared at Jagger’s handwriting for six long stops, I was almost desperate enough to pop into one of the urine-scented bathrooms down here and open it.
Almost. Instead, I called Miles as I made my way up the stairs to have him occupy me for the remaining two-block walk to my building.
He answered but told me to hang on while he spoke to someone else.