21. Delilah
Chapter 21
Delilah
T ears sting the back of my eyes as I seat myself behind the desk. Last night I was left feeling confused when he abandoned me outside my room and headed to his own. I tried not to read much into it, but when he was gone again this morning, my stomach sank.
I’d been hoping to hash things out at home, like adults, without dragging it into the office. I don’t want things to be awkward between us, but the fact he just acted like nothing happened ticks me off. I feel humiliated.
If he thinks last night was a mistake, be a man and tell me. After all, he was the one who started it by kissing me first. Maybe I took things a little too far by rubbing myself against him the way I did, but he was the one who repositioned me on his lap … it was as good as an invitation in my eyes.
Fucking men.
Is he worried I’m going to want more from him now? Is that why he’s being standoffish? I’m not asking or expecting him to move me into his bedroom. Or to get down on one knee and profess his undying love, for Christ’s sake.
Sure, I wouldn’t say no to a redo—I slept like a baby last night after those mind-blowing orgasms—but I will not be hurt or offended if he’s not interested. I completely understand the complexity of our current situation.
Just before ten, a delivery arrives … the biggest arrangement of flowers I’ve ever seen. I’m not kidding, it takes up half of my desk. There would be easily two hundred roses in the bouquet. It’s a combination of impressive and overkill. There are only two people I know who could afford something so extravagant, and both their names end in Prescott.
I can’t see why Eloise would send me flowers. I’ve dined with her before and received nothing the following day. They must be from Spencer.
But why?
Have I misread him?
I spy a small white envelope tucked into the side of the vase, and my hand slightly shakes as I retrieve it and remove the card inside. The burst of adrenaline that just shot through me evaporates the second I read what it says.
I’m sorry!
Spencer.
He is sorry?
For what?
For kissing me?
For letting me use his giant dick to get myself off?
You know what? Fuck this. I’m sick to death of being pushed aside and ignored by everyone. I deserve better. I hadn’t wanted to bring this into work, but there’s no way I can sit through the entire day and not say something.
The card is still clutched in my trembling hand as I storm towards his office. I enter without knocking, and I can see the surprise in his eyes when he notices me approaching.
“What exactly are you sorry for?” I spit, tossing the card on his desk.
His eyes flicker down to it before moving back to me. “I take it you’re not a flower person?”
Ugh, this man is infuriating. “What are you sorry for?” I repeat through gritted teeth.
“Delilah.”
“Don’t you dare Delilah me, answer my question.”
He stands, rounds the desk, and walks towards his office door to close it. “I’m sorry for …”
“For what, Spencer? What happened last night? You could’ve been man enough and just said the words. You didn’t need to clean out the entire florist to prove your point.”
He turns and reopens the door, glancing out into the reception area. He mumbles some expletives under his breath, but I don’t quite catch them all from here.
Once he closes the door again, he retakes his seat.
“Sit,” he orders.
“I don’t want to sit,” I snap back.
“Sit down, Miss St. James,” he growls, and a shiver courses down my spine. I hate how my body responds to his gruff tone. At this moment, I may even hate him a little as well.
I lift my chin defiantly. “No!”
“If you want to act like a child, maybe I should treat you like one.”
“The answer would still be no. ”
“I have a good mind to lay you across my lap and spank that sweet arse of yours into submission.”
Oh, dear God, why does that sound so hot?
My eyes widen and my mouth gapes open. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He leans forward in his seat and cocks a brow. “Try me, sweetheart.”
I swear if I had the strength to lift that bouquet of gazillion flowers, I’d shove them right up his deliciously round backside. “Why are you sorry?”
“For taking advantage of you last night … you were in a vulnerable state. I should never have kissed you.”
“Yet you did.”
“I know, and for that, I apologise. My actions were inexcusable.”
“I kissed you back, and while we’re on the subject, I’m pretty sure you didn’t force me to grind against your dick either, Spencer.”
“Fuck, Delilah,” he groans, repositioning himself in his seat.
“It’s the truth.”
“It should never have happened. I am way too old for you and it was wrong of me to let things go as far as they did. I hope you can forgive me, so we can put it behind us.”
And there it is.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I fib, lifting my chin a little higher. “It was a mistake … I’m glad we are on the same page.”
“You think what we did was a mistake?”
“Yes, and I can assure you it won’t happen again. Like you said, you are far too old for me, Mr Prescott.”
“I’m only ten years older than you,” he grumbles.
“That’s like seventy in dog years. ”
Despite his obvious annoyance, he barks out a laugh. I, however, find no humour in this situation. “That may be true, but we are not animals, Miss St. James.”
We certainly acted like we were last night.
“Now that this is settled, can I go?”
“No. There’s something else I need to discuss with you.”
“What?” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Friday will be your last day as my receptionist.”
My heart sinks. This is far worse than I ever expected. “You’re firing me?”
“Of course not. Laura’s maternity leave is ending. She’ll be starting back on Monday, so I’m moving you to a different floor.”
“Oh.”
“It’s nothing personal. You’ve done a great job since you’ve been here, but Laura has been with me for six years … she holds seniority.”
“I understand,” I say, hoping my words don’t let on how I truly feel.
“Your salary and job description will remain the same. The only difference is, you’ll be working for someone other than me.”
Forcing out a smile, I nod my head twice as I try to swallow down the knot that’s forming in the back of my throat. “Great.” I take a few steps backward, preparing for my escape. “Is that all? I have a lot of work to get through.”
“I’m really sorry, Delilah.”
“I know,” I say, storming back towards his desk to snatch up the card I dropped there.
The first tears fall as I hurry back to my desk, bypassing it to head straight for the bathroom. I don’t want Spencer to see how much this has upset me.
When the end of the day comes, I don’t bother saying goodbye. I think he’s made it clear where we stand. I get it, I do. He runs a multi-million-dollar company. He has so much to offer, and I’m just … me . Despite those glaringly obvious facts, the rejection still stings.
On the plus side, as of next week, I won’t have to see or interact with him at work, but after hours is a different story. It’s going to take me at least a month, maybe more, before I can save up enough money to pay the bond for a rental. Even a dingy motel room is not something I can afford right now.
I might have to hide out in my bedroom until then.
I could go back to my parents’ house, but that seems like a fate worse than death, considering what happened the last time I was there. Would they even want me back? Apart from the initial phone call I got from my mother, it’s been radio silence ever since. Out of sight, out of mind, I suppose.
Sliding into the back of the limousine that’s parked by the kerb waiting, I greet Damien before reaching for my seat belt. “Would it be possible to stop by the grocery store again on the way home?” I ask him.
“Of course, Miss St. James. Are you going to cook Mr Prescott dinner again?”
“No. I just need to pick up some supplies.”
Sustenance for my impending hibernation.