Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I called James in the middle of my lunch break in a panic. This couldn’t wait until I got back to the office. Claiming the package before anyone else did was my top priority.
I chewed a nail as I waited for James to pick up.
After what felt like an eternity, he answered. “Hello?”
“James, it’s me, Milly. Do you still have that package?”
“I do indeed.”
I slumped in relief. “Thank God. I’m pretty sure that it’s actually for me, so make sure no one else takes it, okay?”
“You got it.”
“Great. Thank you. I’m on my way back now, so I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay. See you.”
I ended the call.
Whew. That takes care of that.
Setting up an automatic redirect to have my deliveries sent to work instead of home had seemed like a good idea at the time. But no more. If my suspicion was correct, then this was something I didn’t want to end up in the wrong hands.
Even with James’s reassurance, I still felt the need to race back to the office—just in case. I battled the crowds of office workers, cruise ship tourists, and university students, making my way from downtown to Hobson Street.
The lobby was busy with employees coming and going from the building. As soon as the lift door opened onto the twentieth floor, I marched to James’s desk.
It was vacant.
James was nowhere to be seen, and neither was the package.
I tried to calm myself down. The package was safe, according to James. He had probably just gone to the bathroom or something. He’d be back in a minute. I waited for him.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, I heard footsteps, then I saw James’s friendly face as he emerged from around the corner. “There you are!”
“Looking for your package? I took it to your office.”
I let out a little yelp and hightailed it to my office. When I entered, I looked around in a flurry. Where did he put it? It wasn’t on my desk or the spare desk. It wasn’t on the table by the printer, or on top of the cabinet. I couldn’t see it anywhere.
Then I took a cursory glance towards Neil’s office.
No. Please, no.
His door was open. I peeked inside, and I saw the worst possible scenario unfolding before me.
Neil stood there, holding what looked suspiciously like my package in his hands.
It was already half opened… no, three quarters opened. He was pulling out the gift bag contained within the outer packaging.
“Neil,” I stammered, rushing forward with my hand outreached. “Don’t open it. That’s mine!”
But it was too late. He had already opened it.
What happened next played out in slow motion.
Startled by my sudden entrance, Neil fumbled and dropped the gift bag. Its contents scattered on the floor.
Oh dear lord.
It was buzzing. Vibrating . Loud and intense.
A bright pink bullet vibrator, surrounded by other naughty items, had turned itself on with the impact of the fall.
“Oh my gosh.” I dove to pick it up.
Neil started to bend over to help clear the floor as well, but then he appeared to think better of it and snapped upright, averting his gaze.
“It’s a bachelorette gift,” I explained, frantically trying to figure out how to turn the buzzing sex toy off. “It wasn’t supposed to get delivered to work!”
Neil cleared his throat. “My apologies. There was no name on the parcel, and I’m expecting a delivery today. I shouldn’t have opened it.”
“Ugh! How do I turn this off?”
I finally found the off button, and I mashed it until the buzzing stopped. I shoved the vibrator back in the gift bag, then the rest of the items along with it—a scented candle, body oil, and some rudely shaped candy.
As I got back on my feet, I wiped my brow with the back of my hand. My face was red. I could feel it.
Neil chewed his lip, watching me with an expression which was half bewildered, half intrigued.
I backed away. “I’ll just… get back to work.”
“Yes,” Neil said. “You do that.”
I couldn’t look Neil in the eyes for the rest of the day.
When I got home, I shoved all the goodie bag gifts into the top drawer of my bedside table and slammed it shut, too mortified to even look at them.
Why oh why did Nicole send this to me with no advance notice? I was shocked she even sent me anything after what happened at her party. One thing was for sure. I was never getting personal mail sent to work again—especially now that the apartment building door had been repaired.
I sent a thank-you message to Nicole. Then I lay on my bed, buried my face in my pillow, and let out a muffled groan of frustration.
How am I ever going to live this down?
I couldn’t stop replaying the scene in my head. Neil opening the package, the vibrator shimmying on the floor, the look of utter discombobulation on Neil’s face…
Agggh!
I released another wail into my pillow, followed by a round of punches until I ran out of energy, and the exasperation faded into reluctant acceptance. I turned onto my back, my lumpy old mattress squeaking beneath me.
It’s no big deal. I’m an adult woman with sexual needs. Who cares if Neil saw the vibrator? Every woman has one.
Well, not every woman. I had never owned one until now.
I glanced at the top drawer of my bedside table, suddenly curious. My heart started to beat faster. Before I knew what I was doing, I opened the drawer. The pink vibrator lay among the compartments where I stored my jewellery and accessories. I picked up the device and felt it in my hands. It was lightweight, with a matte rubber surface. I turned it on. It buzzed powerfully against my palm. A wave of excitement came over me.
I wanted to use it. I had to use it. Now.
I scrambled to get out of my pants and flung myself back onto the bed. My heart pounded as I moved the vibrator up my inner thigh towards the throbbing ache between my legs…
A shrill sound rang out from elsewhere in the room, almost giving me a heart attack. My work phone. I rarely received calls outside of my office hours, so I figured it must be important.
The phone continued to ring as I struggled to turn off the obnoxiously loud vibrator. The off button did nothing. I pressed it harder and repeatedly with no result.
Ugh. Piece of junk.
The phone had rung so many times by now I was sure it was about to stop. I tossed the vibrator under my duvet to muffle the sound and took my phone as far away from the bed as my confined space allowed.
The caller displayed on the screen was Neil Kingston.
“Yes?” I answered, breathless.
“Sorry for calling you after hours.”
His voice was smooth and deep. A treat to my ears, even at a time like this.
“It’s no problem,” I panted.
“Are you okay?”
“I was just… in the middle of something.”
“Oh? You sound… Hmm. Never mind.”
Could he tell? Did he know what I was just doing? Oh my God. Could he hear it?
I knew I was being irrational, but the slim possibility he might know weighed on my mind.
“What were you calling me about?” I asked, eager to change the subject.
“The meeting tomorrow at three—it has been moved to nine in the morning. I want you there, so don’t be late. We need to leave at quarter to nine at the latest.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
“All right. That’s all I needed to say. I’ll leave you to… whatever you were doing . Have a good evening.”
It sounded like he had emphasised certain words just then, but it might have been my imagination.
“You too,” I squeaked.
I couldn’t end the call fast enough. I dove onto my bed, found the still-buzzing device under the covers, shoved it firmly between my thighs, and rode out the rest of my frustration with Neil’s voice still ringing in my head.