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I step in. “I like the thought process, guys. But if we do decide a poster boy is the way to go, I’d like one a bit more willing. Don’t want to make any of the store’s long-standing and essential employees uncomfortable.”
Like I am right now.
“You’re right, as usual, boss.” Ben sticks his hand out to Raymond. “Thanks for the insider’s insight, as it were, man. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”
Raymond pauses before relinquishing his own hand to be pumped up and down enthusiastically by the young marketing strategist. “The pleasure is mine, sir.” He subjects himself to another handshake from Chris before turning toward Chase. “Anything I can do before I leave, Mr. Moore?”
Chase lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Chase, Raymond. Call me Chase.” He glances at his watch. “And no, for god’s sake, man, you’re here way too late. I told you not to stay while we had dinner. Go home.”
“As you wish.” Raymond inclines his head to the guys once more and surprises me by taking my hand and bowing over it slightly. “Good evening, Miss Bell,” he says, placing a chaste kiss on the back of my hand. The old-fashioned gesture is delightful, but even more so is the wink that follows.
A saucy wink from the staid, straitlaced floor manager. I can’t help but smile even as my face heats. “Goodnight, Raymond. And thank you.” One more nod in my direction and Raymond turns smartly on his high-shined brogues and strides away.
Chris sighs. “You sure we can’t use him? He’s perfect.”
I laugh. “I’m sure, Chris.”
“Well, now that you two have finished your business, wanna share that car?” Ben asks me.
It takes me a minute to realize he isn’t referring to the business in the elevator, but when I do, I jump at the chance. Call me a coward, but I see my way out, and I’m going to take it. “Sure. That would be great.” I take a quick look in Chase’s direction, unable to meet his eyes. “Thank you for dinner.”
Chase’s charm is gone, in its place a strained annoyance, and I know it’s directed at me. Taking a cue from Raymond, he inclines his head. “No, thank you, Campbell.”
I leave him there, standing with his arms and jacket still in front, his posture rigid. I can feel him watching as I stride out of Moore’s, trying very hard not to waver on my new Jimmy Choos.
* * *
Chase
I’m trying very hard to remain unaffected. I mean, other than the unyielding hard-on I’m packing. True, getting caught dry humping by our employees isn’t the best way to make a good impression, but we’re adults, damn it. And I’m pretty sure only Raymond saw.
Remind me never to play poker with him.
Back in that elevator, I had to keep my fists clenched against the cold metal wall to keep myself from shooting off in my Tom Ford slacks. If I’d caved and touched her, my orgasm would’ve been a foregone conclusion.
That is one stain I’d rather not have to explain to my dry-cleaner.
But why did she say sorry? That I don’t understand. She should’ve said you’re welcome, because I may still be standing here like I’m about to set up camp with the tent I’m pitching in my pants, but that was by far the hottest moment of my life, and no one was even naked.
Someone coughs.
I blink, coming out of the trance I’ve been in for the past few minutes, staring at the door Campbell just exited. It occurs to me that I’ve been doing that a lot lately.
The night security guard, Jeff, eyes me warily. Great, now my employees think I’m a pervert, staring after women while sporting a cock-stand.
Shaking my head in disgust, I head toward the side entrance and the employee parking area. As I drive home, I barely register the city passing by, my head filled with waves of auburn hair and sparkling brown eyes. Luckily, I’m in one of those ninja modes where I can’t remember the ride from work into my parking garage, but somehow I got there safely. Well done me.
Up the elevator and through the door to my bachelor pad I go.
I drop onto my sofa and contemplate the last few days of my life and how everything has changed.
What is it about Campbell King? Why does it feel as if my life has been rebooted, far more so than when my brother showed his douchey colors and I took over the helm of our family’s legacy?
Sister Sledge’s “We Are Family” sounds from my pants pocket. I fish out my phone and answer. “Hey, sis. What’s up?” Guilt creeps in, knowing my time with Campbell is exactly what my father would use against Liz.
“Ooooo, you are in trou-ble!” Liz sings into my ear.
“Great. What now?” I prop my legs up on my coffee table. It can’t be that bad if she’s using a sing-song voice.
