Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Kaitlyn
If there’s a level below “the walk of shame” I’m sure carrying cum covered tissues in a plastic bag and smelling like a brothel would be it.
Especially when you’ve been caught by Janine, the gossip queen of the company. Guard dog of the reception desk in the lobby. And the heartbeat of the gossip mill itself.
If you want information on anyone within a five mile radius of the woman, you talk to her.
Which means, everyone is already huddled in their little friend groups, whispering amongst themselves as I return from Jerrie’s Diner, white plastic bags of takeout in one hand, while balancing a cardboard drink holder in the other.
Head held high, I ignore the tittering laughter and sly glances as I walk past their little cubicles, to Josh's office.
Leaning my back against the office’s wooden door, I carefully press down on the handle, tightening my grip on the plastic bags as the Styrofoam shifts inside. Sliding into the room, the door closing with a soft click, I freeze as laughter fills the air.
Time seems to stop as I find myself trapped in the gaze of the most beautiful young woman I have ever seen.
Holy shit, she’s gorgeous…
And way out of his league…
Red hair with deep amber highlights cascade down her body in waves, like living fire, over black satin. Emerald eyes hold me hostage as she looks me over, a small smile gracing her lips, painted the deepest of red.
She's a goddess walking the earth among us mortals. A queen who has deemed us worthy to be in her presence. Her very aura calls to me, making me want to kneel down at her feet and bask in her calming glow.
A sentiment that Josh must feel as well as he leans even closer to her, his fingers--the very ones that had been all over my own body less than an hour ago--brushing along her golden skin.
With a small nod, she returns her attention to Josh, "And he fell... face first... into the other man's lap?"
Her voice is soft, lilting, with just enough croon in her voice to be warm like honey, just as one would expect upon seeing her, as she continues, "You don't say. Did he ever recover?"
Josh smirks, a hint of laughter within his voice, "Nah, he ended up committing industry suicide, trying to make amends but of course it wasn't enough.
As if anything could ever make up for that mistake.
Especially since there were so many witnesses and, being a Christmas party, there were quite a few snot-nosed, bratty hell spawns in attendance. "
I can't help but cringe at his open opinion of the client's children. Thankfully he usually keeps those types of thoughts to himself, so to hear him say it out loud, to someone not under an NDA... I can't help but find his behavior confusing.
"If he didn't recover, where is he now?"
"I hear he's stuck at some fast food joint, throwing down those nasty frozen burgers, across town."
“That poor man...” Despite sounding sincere, the look she gives Josh is anything but.
Maybe she does feel sorry for poor Nathan Paddlebumm, but it's obvious that her thoughts are more focused on the way Josh is touching her.
Her own hand brushing against his forearm--a delicate bracelet of silver and black s-shape links that interconnect with one another in alternating patterns--slide up and down her wrist with each stroke.
“Poor is an understatement,” Josh snickers, “He lost a quarter of a mill the next day and over half his contracts."
Leaning back in his chair, fingertips still brushing her skin as he ignores me approaching, my eyes are drawn to a matching--albeit a thicker, more masculine version--silver and black s-shaped bracelet encircling his wrist. A bracelet I know for a fact wasn’t there before I had left.
“I’m honestly surprised he’s still alive," he continues, "If it had been me I would’ve taken a long walk off a short pier the very next day, instead of suffering such embarrassment.”
“Psh,” the woman waves her hand as she pulls away from Josh, watching me set the food out on the desk, “I find it hard to believe that a man, such as yourself, would ever succumb to such a minor thing. No, a man like you, is destined for something far greater than even you can imagine.”
The heavenly smell of freshly cooked roast, garlic mashed potatoes, warm sourdough rolls, and Jerrie's famous spiced apple pie fills the air, breaking Josh from his recount of what is forever known as the Christmas Paddlegate Incident of '04.
Having no other choice but to notice me, Josh straightens up, clearing his throat as a look of mock guilt crosses his face. An action that is betrayed by his hand sneaking beneath the desktop, his shoulder moving as he readjusts more than just his belt.
"Kaitlyn, you're back early..." his voice cracks as he glances over at the clock, his brow furrowing as if he just realized what time it really is, "Please cancel any other appointments, clear up today's schedule, and field any phone calls.
Miss Cavanaugh has some files she needs me to look over and I don't want to be interrupted for any reason, short of the building being on fire. Is that clear?"
"Yes, of course, Mr Blackwood." Confused by this sudden change, I make my way out of the office, knowing full well that there was nothing on his schedule to begin with.
Especially since Josh never sees anyone after lunch, making his father deal with any clients who need an appointment later in the day.
His excuse being he 'needs more time to learn the ropes of the company. '
The sounds of muted voices and laughter resume as soon as the door closes behind me.
Feet heavy, stomach hollow, I walk over to my desk, a strangely familiar brass statue catching my attention.
What the fuck?