Page 42 of Watching Her

“I’ve sworn off men. Remember?” Only Marlee had heard snippets about what had happened on my recent business trip. Not that there was much to disclose.

Marlee snorted. “You are like a stick in the mud.”

“I’m practical. I need to build my business.” You bet I was seething about the promotion. But what could I do? The big boss was a sweetheart, but gullible. Plus, there hadn’t been a single person who’d stood up for me. Not one. For whatever crazy reason, I’d honestly believed I could advance in a world where women were still seen as objects. At least in Covington Enterprises.

Okay, so I missed my job and would love to go back. There. I’d admitted it.

“Fine. Then inspire guests with your wit and love of books. My guess is there could be a few businesses that would love to partner with you.” Brittney gave me a salacious look. “Or, if that fails, you could at least get laid. I’m serious. There truly is no better way of getting over someone that getting under another. Ask my darling Drake about that.”

“You wench!” I teased.

Why did my besties always wait until I had my mouth full of food or drink before pulling out the big guns? At least I choked instead of spitting the mouthful of expensive bubbly.

Brittney had her finger in my face. “And don’t you dare tell me you’ve sworn off sex or so help me God, I’m hiring a male prostitute.”

She certainly hadn’t lost her sense of humor. Maybe neither had I. All three of us were laughing so hard champagne bubbles were dripping down the sides of our glasses. It was so good to have close friends, amazing people who knew how much of a pain in the ass men could be.

“No, I’m not abstaining from sex. Just… everything else around dealing with a man.”

“Then put a mask on him and call him perfect.” Marlee lifted her glass. She’d heard about my ‘mystery’ dancer.

The warmth sweeping through me was so powerful I fanned my face. “You’re both incorrigible.”

“But right. Live a little. Create your own dark romance, girlfriend. You deserve it.”

* * *

“Oof,” I hissed and pushed away from my desk, swiveling the chair back and forth as I slumped down. I’d tried to step away from work, including turning on a favorite binge show to watch, but the nagging feeling of failure had dragged me back into my office.

I had no idea why I was struggling with the artwork. I’d done similar ones for reviews before. Maybe because I’d gotten a paying gig from the conference. An entire line of promotional banners and if the author liked what I presented, it would lead to doing a couple of TikTok videos for her.

Nothing that would send my first-born kid off to college, but the woman was as brilliant with her words about dark stalkers as she was mouthy.

And I meant that in the best of ways.

I’d read her books for years, considered her one of my favorites, but there was something off about the book I’d read and I couldn’t put my finger on why.

Other than I was completely jealous of the heroine. She had no idea how impressed I was with the hero aka the crazed stalker with a penchant for blood.

Did that make me insane?

I fanned my face and grabbed my bottle of water. For a September day, it was extraordinarily hot outside. Plus, my air conditioner seemed to be having a difficult time keeping up, which was why I’d decided to work in panties and a skimpy tank top.

Maybe I’d been burning the candle at both ends since the wedding was in a couple of days.

Plus, Troll Man had been at it again. Only he had a handle and every time I noticed it on one of my pages, I was instantly tossed into a fit of rage.

Breathe. Take nice long and very deep breaths.

My inner voice was hoping to gain control while my brain was going a million miles an hour. All with one sinful thought in mind.

Him.

Yep. My mystery man continued to forge little passages in my brain.

Even now, just thinking about him made my pussy begin to throb. Maybe the girls had hit on something. I wasn’t nearly as creative because I’d shut down any thought of humping a hot man.

I’d also chastised myself about a zillion times since leaving San Diego. Why hadn’t I initiated a hard fucking with the handsome mystery man? Perhaps if I had, I’d be more like myself.