Page 51 of Game Change

It’s been a hell of a twenty-four hours, and I haven’t stopped thinking about what happened in my office yesterday. I wish it would happen again. My dick has had a hell of a time behaving. Every time I look at the couch, it wants to pop up. Every time I remember her touch, smell, and the feel of her lips on mine, my body acts like it did when I was fifteen.

My date last night was a complete disaster. I forgot about it until I got a flirty text ten minutes before I was supposed to show up at her door. It said she couldn’t wait until I tasted what she had to offer.

At that point, I still had Brynne’s smell on me. I was loathe to shower, but I did it just the same and knocked on Francesca’s door fourteen minutes later. Saying dinner was awkward would be an understatement. It started going downhill when I walked through her front door and smelled her cooking. It was like a combination of burned cabbage and dog. Three steps into her apartment, a huge Saint Bernard ran to me and humped my leg.

That was preferable to the kiss Francesca tried to plant on me. I moved my face just in time in the pretext of looking down and petting her dog, Deuce. She led me to her kitchen, where there was a mess of pots, pans, and what I’m sure was supposed to be food. The only thing edible was a charcuterie board filled with cheese, fruit, and deli meat.

My head starts to pound just thinking about everything I went through last night. I went from one of the best sexual experiences of my life to hell, all within a few hours.

The pounding between my ears worsens, and I dig through one of my drawers for a bottle of aspirin to get myself together for a staff meeting. That’s another thing I need to change around here. There are too many damn meetings, but the good thing is I’ll get to see Brynne.

“Finally,” I say as my hand wraps around the bottle. I take one out just as my door opens, and Heath comes in with another mug. Whatever’s in it is hot because I see steam coming from the top. “Unless that’s a hot toddy, I’m not interested.”

Just as I open a bottle of water and start to put the pill in my mouth, it gets knocked out of my hand. In the process, he also hits the bottle, and water splashes out, hitting me in the face.

“What the hell, Heath?” I practically growl.

“Pills are the gateway to addiction. It’s literally the portal to hell.”

“Literally?” I ask. This would typically amuse me, but not today. Today, I need a damn pill to kill this headache, not a lecture on the dangers of over-the-counter medication.

“Have you not been paying attention? Every time your sister needs to step outside, she takes a pill. I don’t know how she functions.”

“You mean your mother?” My sister means well, but the kid is right. She’s a mess and is probably scared of the sound of her own voice. “And one aspirin for a headache won’t hurt.”

“Well, not on my watch, Uncle Paddy.” He whispers Uncle Paddy like we’re not the only two people in the office. He puts the mug before me, and it’s another tea. One that smells even more disgusting than the green tea. He comes behind the desk and rubs my temples. I groan, but I lean back and let him do it.

“Your hands are incredibly soft,” I say.

“That’s because of my hand cream. It’s from Paris,” he whispers. He runs the back of his hand on my cheek. “You need a facial. The pores on your nose are huge.” I knock his hands away and sit up. He picks up the mug of tea and hands it to me. I hold my breath and take a sip. It’s disgusting.

“Do you know that Uncle Milty has a discretionary fund called Office Funsies? I called him about it last night, and he says it’s for office parties or lunches. I’m going to use it to order lunch every Monday and Friday. I’m also getting lunch today after the meeting. And for Valentine’s Day, I’m getting a dessert buffet.” I nod as he tells me how else he wants to use the money. I admit that his ideas aren’t terrible, and according to Heath, they will make the office a more fun place to work. I tell him he has my permission to use it however he wants. He gets so excited he stands and claps like a five-year-old.

“The meeting starts in fifteen,” he says. “Remember what Uncle Colin the First always says. Be the first to arrive to establish dominance,” we both say together.

Twenty minutes later, Brynne is the last to arrive, and I wonder if she’s just getting in. She’s still in her coat. Unlike yesterday's long, black wool coat, she’s in gray today. She unbuttons it and hands it to Ernestine. She’s wearing a navy blue pantsuit and an off-white button-up shirt with a navy blue silk scarf around her neck.

She avoids eye contact with me at all costs as I review last quarter’s numbers as well as current and future projects. I expect her to question me, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t even look my way.

“Brynne, can I see you in my office, please?” I ask once the meeting ends and people start walking out. She has her back to me and freezes. “In ten minutes,” I add. “Alone,” I say for Ernestine’s benefit.

I’m the last to leave the large conference room, and when I notice Heath and Ernestine arguing in front of the break room, I ignore them and go to my office. There’s an email from Raven Bennett in my inbox. The only Raven I know is Brynne’s friend. Curious, I click it open and skim the message.

Brynne knocks on the door promptly ten minutes later, just as I hit send on my return email to Raven. That’s the exact moment my phone buzzes, and I get a text from Francesca.

Francesca: I’d love to cook for you again.

My stomach churns. There was dog hair on my plate, and I spent the meal sneaking food to Deuce. I put the phone down.

“Is that Tigerlilly?” Brynne asks. She’s standing as far away from my desk as possible.

“Who?” I ask, having no idea what she’s talking about.

“Tigerlilly. You know? Your little girlfriend.” She pretends to toss her hair and rubs her thighs together. “How was your little date last night? Did you taste what she has to offer?”

I stand, and she steps back, putting her back against the door.

“Are you jealous?” I ask as I walk closer to her.

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