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I leaned on the desk and said, “Don’t think out loud. I pay you to bring me customers, not ramble about some fucking graph.” The entire conference hall went quiet, and I looked at Summer, who was sitting in the back, way too far from me and said, “Speak.”
She swallowed and spoke the same things she had told me that day in the makeup room. People were listening to her, nodding along and taking notes about bringing more inclusivity to our PR packages.
“I think you had a candle shop, too, right?” one girl spoke up. “I saw your shop and how pretty the candles look.”
Summer flushed and talked with her.
I tilted my head and asked, “How about a candle collection with Summer?”
“What?” Everyone raised the question, but the girl was a fan of Summer and started pouring ideas.
I leaned back in the chair, letting them brainstorm, and watched her work with the team. My work here was done.
Once everyone left the conference room, Summer stayed back. Most of them wanted to take pictures with her ever since the fourth episode of her show was released. Her character had saved the main hero from drowning after some dramatic scene and everyone on the internet was talking about how good her acting was.
If I ignored the dramatics of the show, her acting shone the most, and I knew she had worked hard to be where she was.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” she said, walking over to me.
I trailed my eyes from her heels to her tight pencil skirt and blouse. “Do what?” I asked, standing up and caging her in my arms with her back against the conference table.
She played with my tie and said, “I know you asked that girl to speak about my candle-making phase.”
“I didn’t ask her anything, Summer,” I said, lifting her on the table. “I don’t even know her name.”
She peered at me through her lashes. “Are you lying?”
“No, kitten,” I whispered, kissing her cheek. “I didn’t like how that guy kept interrupting you.”
“I’m used to it.”
“What do you mean?” I frowned. “You shouldn’t get used to assholes talking down on you.”
She raised her brow, and I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious.”
“I sometimes take time to process what’s being said, so it’s not rare for people to think I’m stupid,” she said, looking away.
“You’re not stupid,” I said sincerely. “And trust me, I’d know. I have met many dumb people, but you’re not one of them.”
Summer chuckled, “Thanks.”
I knew she was feeling shy and embarrassed about it, but I wanted to know more. “Is it the ADHD?”
She hummed, playing with my tie, and said, “I always related to a Hamilton quote. ‘He looked at me like I was stupid. I’m not stupid.’” She swallowed and continued, “It gets overwhelming sometimes.”
“Overwhelming?”
“Yeah. Like imagine you’re drowning and someone hands you a body.”
I cupped her face and said, “Do you feel overwhelmed with me?”
“Sometimes.”
“In a good way or bad way?”
She smiled, and I was relieved to see it was a sincere smile. “Definitely good.”
I nodded and noted the bracelet on her wrist and pushed her down on the table. “I’m going to make you overwhelmed with orgasm, so be quiet,” I whispered, tugging up her pencil skirt and groaning to find her pussy bare. “No panties? Dirty fucking girl.”
