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I look to Sophie, but she motions for me to speak.
“Well,” I clear my throat, “we’ve noticed that Facebook has really taken off for college-age people, and it’s becoming more and more popular all the time. In my opinion, it’s the future of advertising. Jolie needs to be there. We would post content. For everyone,” I emphasize, and Sophie bobs her head beside me. “Since there will be a face—or two,” I say, smiling to Sophie, “behind the account, people our age may trust it more. Essentially, the content will be similar to what’s printed in the monthly issues, but it’ll be promoted daily on this page in an organic way.”
Cynthia shakes her head. “It’s…” she hesitates, breaking into a wide smile, “brilliant. I think you’re right. This is the future.Youare our future,” she says.
My body tingles as my chest expands with pride. Magic. Possibility. “Once the ball is over, I want your full attention on this project. We’ll start testing it quietly, and when we go to Paris this winter, we’ll present it to the board.”
I bite my lip.Paris.
“Paris?” Sophie squeaks.
Cynthia settles back into her chair. “Yes, girls. Congratulations, the internships are yours.”
* * *
I practically sprintto Jay’s office after a celebratory lunch with Sophie. I’m a teensy bit buzzed from the champagne we splurged on. “Paris!” she screamed as we walked out of Cynthia’s office. “We’re going to fucking live in Paris!”
Jay’s secretary tells me he’s expecting me and to go on back. I barely make it through the door before he’s dragging me in, shutting his door, and pressing me against his wall, his hand traveling up my skirt and his mouth on mine. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Kitten.”
It’s not lost on me that the man hasn’t once voiced concern over this trip or tried to talk me out of my desire to take an internship thousands of miles away.
He encourages me. Listens to me. Supports me. All things I’ve rarely experienced in my life. Someone in my corner for the simple reason of justbeingin my corner.
“Thank you,” I say, searching his eyes for any hint of hesitation on his part. But they sparkle with nothing but pride. His lips curve into the most genuine smile, and with his body pressed against mine, our heartbeats sync.
“So, Paris in the winter,” he murmurs as he pushes the fabric of my panties aside with his fingers and presses inside me. We moan in unison.
“Paris in the winter,” I repeat as I drop my head to the wall behind me and Jay’s fingers slide in and out of me, bringing me to the edge quickly. I’ve only been in his office for two minutes, and I’m about to come. “Fuck, Jay,” I pant.
He smirks and presses a kiss to my neck. “Such a good student you are, Kitten. Coming with my name on your lips, riding my finger like you’re going to ride my cock this weekend. Show me, Kitten. Show me how you’re going to squeeze me.”
My walls clench around him, and before I can make too much noise, he takes my mouth in his, kissing me hard. When he pulls back, a smirk he’s more than earned in place, my knees go weak. He removes his fingers, slips them into his mouth, and closes his eyes as he cleans them of my orgasm. Then he hums in appreciation, and with his hand on the small of my back, guides me to the chair in front of his desk.
I sit, and he takes the seat next to me rather than on the other side of his desk. With a smile, he reaches for my ankle and rubs circles on it with his thumb. “I’m so fucking proud of you,” he says again.
“I’m so proud too. This is…shit. I’m at a loss for words. I’m going to Paris.”
“Yes, baby. You’re going to Paris.”
“Are you nervous?” I ask.
He tilts his head and hums. “Why?”
Before I have time to broach the subject of where he sees things going, if he wants to do long distance, if his lack of nerves is because he doesn’t plan on it…because when the time comes, he’ll want to let me go, the buzzer on his phone sounds.
“Mr. Hanson, Mr. James is here to see you.”
I dart a glance at Jay, who’s already standing and picking up his phone. “Which Mr. James?” he asks, his tone all business. Then his shoulders drop in relief. “That’s fine. Send him in.”
“Are you fucking nuts?” I say, jumping to my feet. “Your hand was just down my pants, and you’re going to let one of my family members in here?”
He huffs and settles in his chair. “Relax,” he says, running his hand through his hair. “Sit down.” He points to my chair. “It’s just Carter.”
“And how exactly will we explain my presence?” I ask, quirking a brow in his direction.
The door opens before he can reply, but he mouths, “And my hand was up your skirt, Kitten, not down your pants.” Then, without missing a beat, he smiles broadly at Carter. “Look what we have here. Visits from two Jameses on the same day. How did I get so lucky?”
Carter’s smile falls as his attention lands on me. “The fuck?” he curses, halting at the door. “What are you doing here?”
