Chapter 6
SIX
SAVANNAH
This Christmas
Manhattan, New York
“Ican’t believe you pulled your boss’s name for the Secret Santa tradition.” My boyfriend, Joshua, laughs at my misery over dinner. “Do you have any idea what you’re going to get him yet?”
“Airlines don’t sell one-way trips to Hell, so I’ll have to look for something else,” I say. “I feel like we’re up and down more than we usually are, you know?”
He nods in agreement, but he doesn’t know the half of it.
“It’s crazy,” he says. “Sometimes I feel like you two are the ones in a relationship. I’m sure I know a lot more about him than he knows about me.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, clasping his hand atop the table. “It’s just—”
“Holiday prep season and it’s stressful as hell.” He smiles and gives my hand a soft squeeze. “I know, babe. I know. Did you taste your rice yet?”
“No.” I pick up my chopsticks and try not to look disappointed.
We’re currently sitting in some hole in the wall Chinese food place, a far cry from the “super upscale SoHo place” he previously promised.
I can’t get too upset with him, though.
He’s living the startup life as an app developer and funds are tight. I know and believe that it’ll pay off someday.
Unlike Garrett West, he knows what it’s like to struggle, what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck, and he doesn’t—
I stop thinking once I see him stuff a few salt and pepper packets into his coat pocket.
“What are you doing, Joshua?”
“I ran out of seasoning at my house.” He lowers his voice. “You wouldn’t believe the cost of things in Los Angeles. That’s why I asked the waitress for some extra parmesan on the side. I brought a few Ziploc bags for the occasion.”
I blink. “I can buy some seasoning online and have it shipped to you.”
“No, that’s okay,” he says. “I would never ask you to buy anything for me. Anyway, back to your boss. You could always write a letter of all the things you hate about him and wrap it in some pretty paper. That might suffice as a gift.”
“I’ve given him that for his past two birthdays.”
“Oh.” He shrugs. “Well, just don’t put any effort into it. Give him something that shows you really don’t care about anything, except the paycheck.”
“Good thinking.” I place a napkin in my lap. “Let’s talk about something else. How was your flight?”
“Good, no turbulence,” he says. “Did you get my flowers?”
“Yes.” I smile at the thought of them. “Everyone on my floor was super impressed with the arrangement.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “I mean, not that it matters, but they didn’t set you back too far, did they? They look even more expensive than the ones you sent me last week. Those were amazing as well, by the way.”
He raises his eyebrow, confused. “I didn’t send you flowers last week.”
“Yeah, you did.” I pull out my phone and start scrolling through my pictures. “I missed your Skype call and you sent me red roses with the little ‘No need to apologize’ card. Hold on, I have to find it.”
“What type of flowers did you get today from me?”
“Eight bouquets of red and white roses.” I smile. “The florist said they were her bestselling blooms. They’re sitting at the center of my desk.” My voice trails off once I see the look on his face.
“Eight bouquets of bestselling roses?” His eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is clenched. “Please tell me that you’re not this fucking dense, Savannah.”
“I really do love your flowers,” I say. “They’re gorgeous.”
“Okay, so you are this dense.” He shakes his head and signals for the check. “I should’ve seen this a long time ago.”
“Would you prefer me to tell you that I hate them?”
“No, I’d prefer for you to tell me that you’re fucking Garrett West, but try not to cause a scene while you say it.” He hisses. “I mean, it’s so obvious, and I’m so foolish. You probably picked his name on purpose so you can get with him on your trip that you supposedly loathe.”
“I’m not sleeping with my boss.” I feel my blood beginning to boil. “And you’re making one hell of an assumption for no reason.”
“No reason?” He laughs maniacally, and the conversations around us fall into whispers. “No reason? Oh, okay.”
“Maybe I should go now,” I say, now realizing that he never even complimented my dress. “You can call me whenever you come to your senses.”
“I’m never calling you again!” He glares at me. “And you know what? For your Secret Santa gift, why don’t you just put a bow on your pussy and sit on your boss’s face? I'm sure he'll love that—if you haven’t already done it with him before, that is.”
My jaw drops to the floor and the entire restaurant falls silent.
A fork hits the floor several seconds later, shattering the silence with a reverberating clang.
I throw my napkin onto my plate and stand to my feet. "So much for not causing a scene, right?"
"You brought this on yourself," he says, signing the receipt. "Fuck you, you cheating bitch."
I'm not sure what comes over me, but the next thing I know, I'm grabbing a glass of juice (He can’t afford to buy wine) and throwing it in his face.
I pick up my coat and leave the dining room without another word, ignoring the whispers that follow my every step.
I fight back tears of frustration as I take the elevator downstairs. I take my time buttoning my coat—shielding my heart from the cold, and then I step into the city’s latest snowfall.
Moving close to the curb, I hold up my hand and hail a cab.
“Where to, Miss?” The driver’s eyes meet mine through the rearview mirror. “You’re looking at a minimum of thirty minutes, no matter what, in this traffic.”
Perfect. “2314 Seventh—” I stop myself. The last thing I need to do is head home. “West Media, please.”
“Sure thing.” He pulls onto the street and I lose the war with my tears for the rest of the ride.
An hour later, I hand the driver a handful of twenties and rush inside headquarters. All of the employees are long gone, but Garrett’s office lights are still burning bright.
As usual…
Without thinking, I head up to his floor and walk into the boardroom. I take off my coat and pull my laptop from my bag to begin working on my next project.
Then my next project, and the next.
Before I know it, I’m ahead in my work by an entire week.
At around two in the morning, Garrett sets a mug that’s topped with whipped cream in front of me.
“Miss Grey?” He clears his throat, waiting for me to look up at him. “I could’ve sworn that you had a date earlier.”
“I did.”
“Did he like your dress?”
“He didn’t get a chance to really see it.”
He looks me up and down. “How unfortunate. How long did the date last?”
“Twenty minutes, maybe.” I tap my fingers against the table. I have no idea why I feel the aching need to open up to him sometimes. “He dumped me because he thinks I’m cheating on him with someone else.”
Raising his eyebrow, he takes a long sip of his coffee. “I’ve never heard you talking to any other guys except him. Who does he think you’re cheating with?”
“He didn’t say.” I shrug. “He just got really upset after I thanked him for the roses he sent me today.”
“Hmmm. Maybe he’s stressed. I’m sure he’ll change his mind later.”
“Maybe.” I stand up from my chair. “Didn’t you have a date with Helen, the hotel heiress?”
“It only lasted half an hour.”
“Is that how long it took her to realize that you’re the devil incarnate?”
His lips curve into a smile, but he doesn’t answer that.
Instead, he moves closer to me, lowering his voice. “If your boyfriend didn’t immediately take you home after seeing you in this dress, something’s wrong with him.”
“Or maybe you picked the wrong one,” I say, feeling a familiar tension filling the room. “Maybe your taste isn’t as good as you think it is.”
He looks me up and down again, his gaze settling between my thighs. “In that case, you should let me taste it for myself…”
“What?” I’m certain that I didn’t hear that right.
“You heard me,” he says, leaning closer. “Let me taste you.”
My eyes widen and I want to take a step back and draw the line, but he presses his mouth against mine—making every nerve in my body come to life.
I wrap my arms around his neck as he kisses me deeper, as he grips my waist and pulls me into him.
“Fuck…” he whispers harshly against my mouth, sliding his hand against my exposed thigh. He slips a hand under my dress and sucks in a breath once he realizes I’m not wearing any panties.
His kiss hits my lips in a different flavor now; it’s ten times more passionate and raw, and before I can say, “Please just fuck me,” the ping of the elevator interrupts us.
“Mr. West, are you up here?” A deep voice calls out, and we tear away from one another. “Mr. West?”
Garrett doesn’t answer the call, he just stares at me.
I catch my breath and try to look away from him, but I can’t.
We’ve had moments before—small brushes against each other in the office, but nothing like that. Ever.
And we need to keep it that way.
“Well, I’m sure that you already have your next date lined up.
” I look at my watch, still stunned by that kiss.
“You’ve bragged about believing that any woman in this city will go out with you, so I’m sure it’s just a matter of time.
Just make sure that you’re not picking up socialites or Wall Street girls. Those aren’t a good fit for you.”
“I didn’t know you cared so much.”
“I don’t.” I clear my throat. “I need to get back to work now, Mr. West. So, if you don’t mind, I prefer to not talk to you during the hours when I’m not getting paid the nine to five rate.”
“You’re salaried, Miss Grey.”
“Right, well.” I turn away, ignoring the sexy scent of his cologne. “If you’re really sorry, you’ll let me have a few days off before the office party. I need them right about now.”
“You already know that I can’t do that,” he says. “There are no exceptions to the rules.”
“I think you can make me the first one.” I pause. “That, or I’m quitting to work for your competition.”
He narrows his eyes at me, saying nothing for several seconds. “I’ll give you two days.”
“Four.”
“I’ll meet you at three, but you still owe me work on the Benson account.”
“The whole purpose of having off-days is not doing any work.”
“Then do the work before you take off, Miss Grey.” He hisses, turning back into the Satan I know. “Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Good.” He steps to the side. “Take the kiss with you, too. It never happened.”
I walk away and lock myself in my office—vowing to sit at my desk for the entire day. I only get up to use the restroom and take a power nap in the break room.
I make sure I’m four weeks ahead, and then I stumble into a town car and head home to freedom.