Page 1 of A Little Red
Episode 1
Allure
Liam
Liam Grayson pulled his head out of the annual report, ears lifting at the sound of someone crying. He got up from his desk, and looked around for his suit jacket and then dismissed the need for it. He was used to trying to maintain the illusion of civility, but after-work hours on Friday—on Halloween no less—didn’t really call for a full suit.
He opened his office door and looked across the area that was subdivided by cubicles. The only person present on the floor was ten feet away from him at her desk. Scarlet Lucas, his secretary and midnight fantasy for the last month, was wearing a red and white checked gingham dress with a plethora of fluffy petticoats. Over the top she had draped an itty-bitty red cloak and hood that didn’t go down any further than the hem of her skirts, which ended barely below the ass he’d been drooling over since she’d been assigned to him. She had paired the entire costume with knee high socks and red Converse. She was also sniffling into a tissue as she rifled through her desk drawer.
“Scarlet?”
She whirled around, her golden braids flying out.
“Mr. Grayson?”
“Are you all right?”
He took a step forward and caught the bright scent of fresh blood.
“Yes. I just…” She stood, nervously twisted her tissue in her hands.
“You’re bleeding,” he said, spotting the raw scrape on her knee.
“I fell,” she said, blushing.
“You fell…” He frowned. Scarlet had always struck him as particularly graceful. “In your sneakers?”
She blushed an even brighter shade of pink. “I was running away and I tripped.”
“Running away from what?”
“Sam Albright,” she muttered. “After I punched him.”
“Who is Sam Albright and why did he need punching?” Liam took a firm grip on his temper—Sam Albright was none of his business, but if he had hurt Scarlet, Liam thought he might make it his business.
“My date,” she said. “He… put his hands where they were not invited to be.”
“Ah,” said Liam, swallowing down his fury, and smiling at Scarlet instead. He walked over to her desk and spotted the Band-Aids buried in the debris of the drawer. “Sit, please,” he said, plucking one out of the box.
She dropped into her chair with a froth of petticoats. He knelt down, stripped the Band-Aid from its wrapper and pressed it against her knee. His fingertips caressed her skin around the bandage, but he managed to stop them there.
“Does Sam need consent explained to him further?” He asked, staring up into her sea blue eyes and forcing his hands to rest on the arms of the chair. Although, that wasn’t much better than having them on her knee. Now his hands were within millimeters of her bare arms and wanted very badly to run an exploratory fingertip along the soft inner skin of her elbow.
“I don’t know,” said Scarlet, sniffing. “He grabbed me and shoved his hand in my underwear and I cracked him in the jaw and ran. I know it was a date, but that wasn’t… I didn’t want…”
She looked miserable and Liam cocked his head to one side trying to figure out his next step, but he was having trouble thinking with the fluttering scent of her in his nostrils. He loved the way she smelled. Everyone else in the office reeked of perfumes and scents. Scarlet was one of the few who smelled like herself. And also a little bit like the woods on a spring day. It was intoxicating.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to dump this on you. I came here because I knew I had Band-Aids and I live out in Bed-Stuy. I was just looking forward to having a stupid fun Halloween for once. My Mom never let us dress-up as kids and I wanted…”
She smiled awkwardly.
“You wanted to be like everyone else,” he said. “I understand. We never really did Halloween either. My parents… didn’t like it,” he finished lamely. How was he supposed to explain that Halloween felt like one mask too many?
“Everyone else makes it look easy,” she said. “Sexy costumes and candy. I thought I could figure that out.”
“You nailed the costume,” he offered, realizing he was still kneeling between her knees and now that he had tilted his head, he could see her panties were ruffled as well.
“Thanks,” she said brightening. “I couldn’t do the high-heels. That seemed unsafe. Which, considering I tripped in Converse, was probably a smart move. Although, I don’t think it was entirely my fault. I tripped over some electrical cables the haunted house place had taped to the floor. I don’t think that was OSHA approved.”
