Page 93 of Pierced

I truly believe that and this calm I feel—for the first time since the whole Sexpert debacle last summer—this satisfaction, well, that just proves it.

I gather my black, leather, studded work bag, get out of my car, and make my way up to the fiftieth floor somewhat in a daze. Still thinking about our weekend. What a nice couple we make. How we complement each other. He is one hundred percent the king and I am the queen who stands beside him.

People are looking at me funny in the elevator and for a moment I wonder why. But then I realize… I’m smiling.

I get off with the other fiftieth-floor people and see Pierce in his glass-walled office, talking on the phone. I slow my walk, waiting for his eyes to catch mine. And it’s like we’re playing out some scene in a movie, because they do. And he stops talking. Just locks his gaze to mine, then lets it travel down to take me all in. And when his eyes reach mine again, he smiles at me.

Me, and only me.

And sure, I’m dressed super sexy today. I mean, I pulled no punches when I chose this outfit. But I didn’t do it for him, I did it for me. A tight red pencil skirt with a black silk camisole top that has a softly drooping collar that bares the curve of my breasts and shows off the silver choker I’m wearing. A matching red, perfectly-tailored, cropped jacket. My legs are luxuriously covered up by sheer, black silk stockings attached to a red garter belt. My bra is red with black lace. And even though I’m not expecting to show him any of my undergarments today, it makes me feel powerful to wear them. To put on this outfit and just be myself. Knowing he understands.

It feels like me.

I finally know who I am.

And he gets me.

“Good morning!” Valerie calls from her desk as I approach my office. “A package came for you on Friday after you left. I put it on your desk.”

“Thanks, Valerie,” I chirp, opening my office door. And I don’t even mind Valerie today. I’m just too… satisfied.

I drop my bag in my desk and look at the box, reading the card taped to the top.

Oh, shit! The party invitations! I totally forgot! I was planning on having Valerie print me out labels on Friday and then drop them in the mail room on my way out, but… shit!

There’s no time to mail them now. I’ll have to just suck it up and go hand-deliver them. I mean, this party is important. I realize that now. Pierce has trusted me with the fate of this magazine. We need millions of dollars in new advertising and I’m going to make sure that happens. Because no one, and I do mean no one, wants to be laid off right after they spent more than they should during the holidays.

That would be a disaster.

“Knock-knock.”

I look up to see Pierce standing in my doorway, smiling… what is that? Coyly? Sheepishly? I don’t care what it is, he looks delicious.

“Good morning, Mr. Chevalier,” I say smiling back.

He walks in, plops down in the chair in front of my desk and says, “Did you have a nice weekend, Ms. Rothschild?”

“Very nice,” I purr, leaning over the desk.

We get lost in each other’s eyes for a few moments. Like a couple of junior-high kids the morning after a perfect Valentine’s Day dance.

It’s such a sugary-sweet moment, I’m sure if anyone saw us right now they’d want to throw up, but I don’t care.

“Ummm,” he says, looking at my outfit. “I like that.”

I sit down and allow myself a silly giggle. “Well, I wore it for you, so… good.”

“Hey,” he says. “So, I was just on the phone with my father.”

“How is the patriarch doing this morning?”

“He wants me in New York this week.”

“Oh,” I say, deflating a little.

“I know. I don’t want to go, but you can handle things here, right?”

“Sure,” I say, perking up a little. “For sure. Go. Don’t worry about a thing. And then when you get back you’ll have the party to look forward to.”