Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“I’m glad to hear it.” She gave me a bright smile. “Look, his secretary is going on vacation, so you will probably be pulling double duty soon. I will make sure that is noted in your file.”
I gave her a grateful smile. Mrs. Lakeson always knew how to make you feel like she was on your side, not out of pity or charity but because she knew that was how to get the best effort and work product from her staff.
“Any tips to make my life easier before I return to my desk?”
“Yes, don’t ever be late. And if you quit, there is a support group for other people he drove off. It meets every Wednesday afternoon at East Twenty-Ninth and Lex.”
I laughed, thinking she was making a joke.
The look she gave me told me she was dead serious.
“You’re going to be late if you don’t move now.”
“Thank you for your guidance,” I tossed over my shoulder as I raced to the elevator, needing to head two floors up.
After pressing the button several times, I gave up and shoved at the stairway door. Despite my heels, I hoofed it up the two flights to my new desk.
What I needed was a positive outlook.
He must not have known who I was last night.
The paralegals whispered all the time about gossip they’d heard from some of their friends about men in the firms they worked at having their girlfriends in their offices after hours. I never thought anything of it. It wasn’t my business, and I was usually elbow-deep in old case files looking for precedents.
The personal lives of lawyers around town didn’t concern me, but maybe I should have paid more attention.
As I struggled to catch my breath after the stairs, I raised my chin and marched to my desk. It was a legitimate mistake that got way out of hand. That was all. Best forgotten and never mentioned.
He thought I was someone else, I reasoned.
He only knew me by my work, not by name or appearance, which if you thought about it, was extremely flattering. Most women would kill for the validation of being judged only for the quality of their work and not their looks.
And as any opposing counsel would argue, I had been half naked in his bathroom when he found me. So there was that to contend with.
It wasn’t right for him to jump to the conclusion that I was a freaking escort, but strictly speaking, that was more of a hop than a jump under the circumstances. Also, I really shouldn’t have been in his bathroom. I should have found somewhere to change outside of the office.
Mistakes were made on both sides.
Mrs. Lakeson was right. If I could make this work, then it would do wonderful things for my future career. It wasn’t like I would be working closely with Mr. Astrid. He would work in his office, I at my desk and the law library. If we were both working late, I would stay in the library.
I decided it was best to disregard everything that happened, never mention it, never think about it at work.
I would wait until I got home to fantasize about it.
To think about the way he made me feel dainty, trapped between his body and the wall. The way it made him seem even bigger, more imposing, and how part of me liked it. I could indulge in fantasies of him doing the things he threatened me with.
Then I could touch myself, trying to remember how it felt to have him touch me. Pretending I knew what it would feel like when he used more than just his fingers.
When I was home, safe in my bed, my secret cloaked in darkness under the covers, I could let my mind roam to those forbidden thoughts, but only then.
In the light of the nine-to-five workday, only the most professional thoughts about this man would be allowed to cross my mind. I would be the poster girl for professional conduct.
I finally made it to my desk. Shoving my purse in the bottom drawer, I opened my computer.
There was an e-mail from Mrs. Lakeson letting me know if something else happened and I couldn’t deal with the assignment, she would do what she could to reassign me within the DA’s office, but there were no promises.
I sent her an e-mail thanking her for her time and telling her I would do my best to make this post work for as long as I could.
If I couldn’t make this work, then I had no business being in a law office.
I pulled up the case that had been assigned to me last night.
With steady determination, I dove into the file in front of me, intent on making a much better second impression.
From this point forward, our relationship would be strictly professional.