Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“You’re welcome. You don’t have to give us an answer right now. Take a couple of days. Email me the signed offer if you decide to take it, and we’ll go from there.” It’s not easy to not take over this interview, but if I did, it’d be Tessa on my desk, legs spread open, my head buried between her thighs until she gave me the answer of yes. Which is fucked, I know it is, especially with the spiel I gave her nearly twenty minutes ago.
“I don’t need a day or even an hour. I’ll take the job.” She snags an Ayala & Thomas Entertainment Law Group pen we all keep on our desks, in some kind of cup thing that Mace’s wife said we all needed. When we first started moving in, Tyra went apeshit when she saw two men trying to organize and decorate. The woman was a whirlwind. It paid off in the end even if it hurt our wallet at the same time.
“Welcome to Ayala & Thomas Entertainment Law Group. We look forward to watching you grow.” Tessa slides the paper back, we all shake hands, she agrees to start tomorrow, and then she’s walking out of Mace’s office with my eyes glued to her heart-shaped ass. It isn’t until she is completely out of view that Mace makes the statement.
“King, you may as well stake your claim on her now because you’re sunk, man,” he states. Hands in my pockets, I turn around and see the smirk on his face.
“Fuck, this isn’t going to be easy,” I reply.
“Nothing worth having ever is.” Mace would know. He and Tyra are finally back to the place where they live in harmonic bliss.
“I hear you. I’m getting back to work. See you later.” Since we changed our Monday morning from the weekly staff meeting to interview Tessa, that means next week, the meeting will be even longer. Fuck’s sake. Half the time, the meeting could be done in an email, and if it weren’t for our firm still being fairly new, that’s what we’d do.
“Later.” I know work is going to be hard to concentrate on after having Tessa in my presence this morning.
5
TESSA
“Hey, you’re back from job hunting early. Do you feel like having dinner with us old people?” Mom asks as I’m making my way up the stairs to my place.
“Hi, Mom! You won’t believe the day I’ve had.” I walk towards her. Mom’s arms are already out and open, ready to pull me in for a hug. Honestly, she gives the absolute best hugs. They’re the type that make you feel better even if you’re in a great mood like I am, filled with love and meaning, holding you tight, letting you know you matter. “And dinner, that depends on what you’re cooking and if Dad is going to be naked.” I still shudder thinking about my dad carrying on about being retired, able to walk around naked in the house, and being one with his wife.
“Your father will be clothed. He only talks like that to get a rise out of you.” We pull away from one another. I roll my eyes because that couldn’t be further from the truth and she knows it. Not that they don’t deserve it. Having a child later in life, they worked hard in order to afford to play harder. There’s a reason I’m walking away from college practically debt free, minus the credit cards that are a product of my own idiocy at times that I’m paying off, and having a free place to land afterwards, though I’ll be paying rent because it’s the right thing to do.
“Sure, we’ll go with that, but yes, as long as clothes are required, I’ll be at dinner.” When I was growing up, everyone would say, ‘You look just like your mother,’ and I’d cringe internally. Now that I’m older and realize how beautiful she truly is, after all the nagging to use moisturizer and sunscreen on my face, I understand it. We truly are the spitting image, and now I’m praying to the skincare gods that I age as gracefully as she has.
“Your father and I both will have clothes on. Now, tell me what has a smile plastered on your face. Plus you’re back before lunch. It has to be good news.” The weather is beautiful today for sitting outside around the pool.
“Come upstairs? I only wore these clothes for a few hours, and I’d rather not have to wash them, let alone steam the wrinkles out.” I scrunch my nose. Ironing is not my thing. So, I learned a year or so ago from another girl who hates ironing as much as the next person that a great steamer is where it’s at—it’s easier, and you don’t have to worry about burning your clothes near as much. Not only that, but I used a hair straightener on one of my skirts for work while wearing it. Yeah, that was a disaster. And needless to say, the inside of my thigh had a nice little scar for a hot minute.