Chapter 8
RILEY
“Hold the door, please!”
I reach out to stop the elevator from closing, a smile curling my lips as I look up to see Cassie rushing over. Her short black bob moves with every step she takes, dark eyes glittering with interest as her round face splits in a wide smile.
“There’s the girl of the hour,” she teases as she steps onto the elevator with me, her low pumps clicking against the tile floor. “Stayed late again?”
I chuckle as I press the button for the garage, setting the elevator in motion. “Don’t I always?”
Cassie and I aren’t friends per se—we don’t hang out except at the office or work events—but I like her.
She’s hardworking, keeps her nose to the grindstone, and consistently produces good results in the I.T.
department. I admire the effort she puts in and the way she seems to make friends with everyone who lays eyes on her.
Hell, even Sloane isn’t as bitchy with her as everyone else.
“I’m just glad to see you,” she says, nudging me with her elbow. “I saw your cubicle cleared out and assumed the worst. Did you get transferred or something? Word was flying that you got moved to the top floor—crazy, right?’
I laugh nervously, nudging my glasses up the bridge of my nose before rubbing the back of my neck. I almost don’t want to confirm it, but Cassie’s always been friendly. I’m sure she won’t have anything negative to say.
Hopefully.
“Ah, I did, actually,” I tell her shyly, glancing away. “Mr. D’Amico set me up in the office right next to his.”
Cassie gapes at me, her chin dropping all the way down to the gold cross necklace she wears every day. “He didn’t,” she says breathily. “Seriously?”
Clearing my throat, I nod. “Seriously.”
Her shock melts seamlessly into excitement, a dainty hand wrapping around my forearm as she squeals, thrilled.
“Oh my God! Riley, that’s amazing!” she cheers. “So you got a promotion, or what? Holy shit, please tell me you’re replacing Sloane.”
The tension in my spine drains at her obvious show of support. The grin that crosses my face is more honest this time.
“Hate to disappoint, but I don’t think so. He didn’t really say anything about that.”
Surely he would have made it more clear if he was promoting me or even giving me a raise. There’s paperwork involved in all that. This was just… a move. Into an office on the top floor, right next to my absurdly hot CEO.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.
Cassie clicks her tongue. “Shame.”
I glance around even though I know we’re the only two in the elevator, just to be sure. “He did find out that she was making me write her quarterly risk analyses, though. My guess is he just wanted to separate us so she couldn’t keep it up—he was pissed when he asked me about it.”
Cassie’s brows raise in vindictive pleasure, obviously thrilled at the thought of Sloane having to do her own work, even for a little. We both know that she’ll find someone else to fob it off on now that I’m not available, but it’ll be a nice shitshow to watch while it lasts.
“Why move you all the way upstairs?” she asks. “I mean, I’m thrilled, don’t get me wrong, but he could just set you up in an office pretty much anywhere else. Or, crazy thought, just do the whole company a favor and fire Sloane.”
I laugh ruefully at the thought.
As much as I really do hate Sloane, I don’t want her to get fired for bothering me. I want her to get fired for failing to do anything that actually relates to her job.
“I don’t really know,” I say with a shrug. “I tried to argue with him, but he just said he wanted his ‘best analyst’ close by. Now that’s a crazy thought, right?”
I look over to Cassie with a laugh, but she has her head tilted to the side and a thoughtful expression on her face. A chunk of her hair rests heavily on her cheek and she hitches her tote bag up higher on her shoulder as she smiles softly at me.
“It’s really not,” she says with a raised brow, almost daring me to disagree. “You are the best.”
“Oh, come on—”
“Seriously!” she cuts me off, her smile growing wider. “You’re a genius, Riley. You deserve the recognition.”
I shake my head, my eyes falling to the ground as an embarrassed flush creeps up my neck. “I just do my job,” I say. “I’m super nervous about all of this, honestly. It’s such a big change, and it came out of nowhere. Sloane’s probably furious.”
Cassie rolls her eyes playfully, knocking her shoulder into mine.
“You’ll do fine,” she assures me. “Mr. D’Amico and Sloane are probably just having a little lover’s spat now that he found out the truth of who his best analyst actually is. She’ll get over it, and you’ll keep kicking ass.”
It’s my turn to gape, my head turning so fast something twinges in my neck. I focus on that rather than the way my heart twinges in my chest. It’s not like I had a chance with Nick in the first place, but I always assumed he was single.
“Wait, for real?” I ask in a hushed tone. “They’re together?”
Cassie barks out a laugh as the elevator doors slide open, depositing us at the parking garage. It’s tonelessly gray and smells like rain, just like always, but everything seems to be in sharper contrast as I wait for her to answer.
“Only in Sloane’s dreams,” she says scathingly, and relief slams into me like a tidal wave. “She’s desperate for any scrap of his attention. He’s obviously not into her.”
Oh, thank fucking God.
I was terrified for a moment that I’d read all the signs wrong, that Nick’s behavior toward her was just a way to keep their office romance hidden. Cassie has her finger on the pulse of all the office gossip, though.
If they were together, she’d know.
“At least I only have to deal with a jealous coworker instead of a jealous girlfriend,” I say with a weak laugh.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I tug it out as we walk toward our cars, heels clipping across the smooth concrete. As soon as I see the text waiting for me, my face splits in a soft smile.
Mister Mystery: Did you enjoy your first day in your new office, Miss Morgan?
I texted him before I got into the elevator, telling him I was heading home, as it has become a habit over the last few days. The thought of what he made me do in my new office is fresh on my mind. I can’t wait to see him in person again. The teasing text messages with him only get me so far.
Riley: That I did, even without a champagne delivery ;)
“What’s got you smiling at your phone like that?” Cassie asks, playfully pretending to look over my shoulder.
I flush brightly, locking my phone and slipping it back into my pocket.
“I… may have met someone at the charity gala almost two weeks ago,” I admit shyly. “Taylor had an extra ticket and took me, and he asked for my number.”
“You got a boyfriend and didn’t even tell me?” Cassie asks in mock offense.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say, although I can’t deny the rush of excitement that floods me at the thought. “We’re just talking. Texting. I’m not really sure where it’s going, but maybe there’s something there. I do really enjoy our conversations… so who knows?”
Cassie’s teasing grin softens, and she looks at me fondly as she stops beside her car.
“I hope so,” she says. “You deserve it. Besides, it’d be good for you to do something other than work for once. Live a little.”
I laugh, shaking my head at how similar her advice is to Taylor’s. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Cassie. Drive safe.”
She gives me a little wave and climbs into her car, leaving me to head to my car alone. It’s not far, but even just the few seconds have my mind whirling with thoughts of my masked man.
There’s something growing between us, isn’t there?
We’re not just flirting aimlessly. He likes me enough to check in on me, ask about my day, and remember little things we chat about.
I climb into my car as I think, pulling my phone out of my pocket when I feel it buzz twice in a row.
Mister Mystery: I told you, if you want champagne, all you have to do is say the word. I have a feeling you enjoyed my instructions earlier more than you’d have enjoyed a drink.
I blush at the reminder of our earlier escapades, my heart tripping in my chest as I start my car. I’ve never felt so wanted before; desired, enjoyed, and savored.
Yeah, there has to be something here.
Riley: Don’t get me riled up again. I have to drive home.
Mister Mystery: I’ll do what I please, Miss Morgan. Drive safe. I’m stuck in meetings until late tonight, so I’ll be slow with responses.
Fondness builds in my gut, and I can’t beat down the smile that tugs at my cheeks as I lock my phone and start toward home. It’s not a long drive, thankfully, but by the time I’ve made it back to my cozy little apartment, my face hurts with how wide my smile is.
I’ve never had someone be so attentive and proactive. The guy I dated in college, Dallas, was always too wrapped up in his own life to pay much attention to me outside of when he wanted to have sex, which wasn’t even that good, and that’s probably why we only lasted a week.
And yeah… I tried to do the Tinder thing like Taylor had suggested a year ago.
That never went anywhere. Just a bunch of cold text messages and dick pics that were a major turn off.
None of them were ever interested in getting to know me, and none of them paid attention outside of trying to get laid.
Sure, my mystery man and I have done a little sexting lately, but he never pushes for it. His conversations never start off like that’s all he wants, which is why I can’t help but be frustrated that I haven’t been able to see him in person again.
I slip my shoes off in the entryway of my apartment and flip the lights on as I go. My mind whirls as I toss my messenger bag into its usual spot on the counter and flop down on the couch.
It’s not like I didn’t know I wanted someone more dominant in the bedroom—my book collection is evidence enough of that—but I didn’t know how thrilling it could be to give a partner control in different areas of my life.
My masked man hasn’t exactly laid out rules for me, and it’s not like he’s enforcing punishments or anything, but he’s certainly leading me in the direction he wants me to go.
Praise for keeping him updated, prodding questions when I don’t, and a sense of complete, effortless control and certainty no matter what he asks me to do.
It’s more thrilling than I could have imagined.
Riley: Home safe. Hope your meetings are going well!
I tug my journal across the coffee table, deciding to put some of these thoughts to paper while I wait for him to respond.
It’s been a while since I wrote anything in here aside from a stray fantasy or two, just stream-of-consciousness erotic ramblings, mostly starring Nick.
Or nameless men who just so happen to share a striking resemblance to him.
I let my mind stray as I write, scrawling out scenario after scenario, thoughts of muscled thighs and broad hands and wickedly talented mouths dancing across the page.
No names get written down this time, just desires. By the time my phone buzzes again, I’ve filled almost two whole pages.
Mister Mystery: Sweet girl. They are, but I’d rather be talking to you. What did you eat for dinner?
My stomach growls as if in response to his question, and I laugh softly as I flip my journal closed and type out a response.
Riley: I haven’t eaten yet, actually.
My heart thumps wildly in my chest as I send off another text right after.
Riley: Any suggestions?
It’s the first time I’ve handed the reins over to him without him making the first move, and even though it’s something as casual as asking for dinner ideas, it feels like a big step. I wonder if he’ll understand what I’m really asking for.
His response comes in quickly, and I lean back against the couch, giggling.
Mister Mystery: Looking for even more instructions, huh? Needy little thing.
Mister Mystery: Good thing I like making your choices for you. Order in. Get the lamb makhani from Patiala.
I should’ve known he wouldn’t hesitate. He’s always eager to tell me what to do.
And honestly, it feels good.
Riley: I’ll put an order in now.
It’s not often that I eat out, and even rarer that I bother to order in, but today has been exceptionally special all around.
I got my own office on the top floor right next to Nick’s, my mystery man helped me get off on my brand new desk, and I’m exploring new depths of things I didn’t realize I’d enjoy so much.
I deserve to celebrate.
Mister Mystery: That’s a good girl. Back to meetings for me. Enjoy your dinner, Miss Morgan.
I order my dinner quickly before turning back to my journal, my heart and mind thrumming in sync with each other.
I’m going to be filling out quite a few pages tonight.