The Private Diary Ep. 02

Fallout

As soon as I walked into work that day, a hush fell over the office. Yep. They'd all read my diary entry. Or at least enough of them had to make a noticeable difference. I'd only been at this job for the past two years. I got it just before I walked in on David.

Sometimes, I wonder if maybe taking this job, the first job I'd had out of the home in my entire marriage, somehow was responsible for David's affair. It would be a little ironic if I got fired from it because of my diary. The job cost me my marriage. My retelling of my marriage ending could cost me my job.

I shook my head as I began my long trek across the office building to my cubicle. This job didn't force David to sleep with someone else. He'd done that all himself. As to my job, if they fired me, I'd just have to find another one. There was nothing for me to gain by obsessing about it all day. A sense of calm swept over me for the first time since I'd read that stupid entry this morning. Not to toot my own horn, but I think my therapist would be proud of my progress.

Turning on my computer, I forced my brightest smile and opened my email. That was a mistake. My inbox was full. And not in a productive day kind of way. More of a slut shaming, barely veiled innuendo kind of way. Yep. Today was going to be a difficult one. No doubt about that. Still, I couldn't control what other people said about me, I could only control the way I reacted. I planned on reacting like the total professional badass that I was.

My plan, however, started to fall apart almost immediately. Buried in my inbox, nestled between an email propositioning me and one telling me I was going to hell, was a request from my boss to see me as soon as I got in for the day. Dread made my stomach tighten and my hands sweat. Of course, I realized that I could be called on the carpet. I'd just given myself a pep talk about the possibility. I hadn't, however, expected it to happen first thing in the morning.

No use putting off the inevitable. He had, after all, said he wanted to see me as soon as I got in. After putting my computer to sleep, I started the slow walk to his office. A steady hum of wipers seemed to follow each step I took. Every time I turned to spot the culprit, though, the noise would stop and everybody would abruptly return to their workstations. After the fifth time of this scene playing out, I decided not to bother looking anymore. I had the feeling I was starting to appear paranoid.

When I got to the office door, I took a deep breath and tried my best to relax. No matter what happened on the other side of this door, I was going to be a professional.

Nodding to myself, I raised my fist. The wood was cold and hard against my knuckles, but it didn't hurt early as much as the unexpected burst of laughter from behind me. It was bad enough when they were whispering about me. But laughing? Seriously? Like I wasn't going through enough already?

"Enter." The one-word command made my knees weak. And it wasn't with desire. Don't get me wrong, my boss, Juan Carlos, was a sexy man. At this moment, however, fear was making my stomach turn and my fingers tingle. There was absolutely no room in my psyche for desire. Seeing as how it was the one particular emotion that got me into this trouble, I doubted I'd experience it ever again. Goodbye, libido. It had been a good run. I had the stories to prove it.

The small joke made me smile as I pushed open the door. The moment I saw Mr. Carlos sitting behind his desk, however, the paralyzing fear swept through me again.

He was going to fire me. True, I didn't have a morality clause in my contract or anything, but I happened to be one of those poor souls working in a right-to-work state. Basically, my job could fire me for any reason and, as long as it wasn't discrimination, there was nothing I could do.

"Good morning, Mr. Carlos." I cringed as my voice faltered a little. "You wanted to see me?"

It was very distracting the way he never once looked up from his computer screen. What did he find so fascinating that he couldn't even be bothered to acknowledge my existence?

Walking the rest of the way into his office, I shut the door behind me. That was about as far as my wobbly legs would take me, however. My courage had given out. Maybe my therapist wouldn't be so proud of my progress?

"Please, come in. Have a seat." He gestured to the chairs on the other side of the desk from him, but still didn't look up to greet me. "I just need to finish this one thing... There." Finally, he looked up at me and smiled. The genuine warmth of his expression melted a little of my fear. Just enough so I could make it to one of his chairs and sit.

"So...um..." Where did I start? Did I apologize for my sex life being all over the internet? I cringed as I thought of future installments that would most likely go up. The first one was downright tame compared to some of the adventures I'd lived since my divorce.

When I let the thought die unfinished and fidgeted in the chair, Juan appeared to take pity on me. "I suppose you're wondering why I wanted to see you this morning."

My cheeks heated at the insinuation. There was only one reason I could think of. "I think I have a pretty good idea."

"Good. I hate to spring these things on people." He closed his laptop and folded his hands together on top of it. "It's come to my attention that you have a skill set you didn't let us know about."

Was he serious? Was sex in a parking garage considered a skill set? Not that I wouldn't mind exploring that skill set with him. He was hot in a buttoned down, controlled kind of way. With his jet-black hair, warm brown eyes, and his perfectly pressed suits... Every time I see him, I can't help but imagine what he'd look like messy. His perfectly styled hair hanging over his eyes as he looks down at me. Him holding his weight on his arms. One braced on either side of my body. His chiseled abs right at my fingertips. Maybe even a little stubble on his perfectly sculpted face.

I shook my head to dispel the momentary lapse of judgement. He was probably going to fire me. This was not the time to start indulging in fantasies about him. "Skill set, sir?"

Was it my imagination, or did one of his eyebrows lift ever so slightly when I called him sir?

"German." He stood and walked around his desk. When he reached my side of the desk, he leaned back against it so his hips were at my eye level. "Personally, I would've thought a beautiful flower such as yourself would've learned a romance language. But the powers that be need a German translator. Imagine their surprise when it was brought to their attention you majored in the language."

How had that been a surprise to any of them? It was on my freaking résumé. My German advisor in college was the one who'd introduced me to the company. I might have asked him about this, but as my mind kept replaying his words, trying to make them make sense, something else he said seemed more important. "Beautiful flower?"

"What?" He blinked at a rapid speed, as if I'd shocked him with his own words.

I could play it off and let it drop, but I didn't want to. It'd been a horrible day. A horrible day that had just gotten a little brighter. I wanted--no, I needed to hear his explanation. "Did you just call me a beautiful flower?"

His cheeks turned the lightest pink with a blush. The look gave him a vulnerable, adorable quality that did nothing to diminish his sex appeal. "I did. Are you going to report me to HR?"

"No." Even if he was saying what I hoped he was saying, there was nothing to tell anybody. As far as I was aware, sexual abuse required one party to be unwilling. I was about as willing as they came. "I enjoy compliments. Especially when given so poetically."

"That's good to hear. I was really hoping we could work together on a couple of projects I had coming up in the near future." He crossed behind me to run his fingers over my shoulders as he spoke. His touch, combined with the deep timber of his voice, gave me chills.

"Projects that require a working knowledge of German?" I didn't expect his upcoming projects would, we didn't have any German clients right now, but I wanted to tease him back a little.

His soft laughter was filled with warmth. I didn't dare turn back to look at him though. My body was already warm with his nearness. I didn't want to take the chance that looking at him would make me even hotter. Hadn't my libido already caused enough problems today?

"No. The clients actually are from France and Italy. They don't like traveling, so it would be up to us to go to them. Rather frequently."

"So how does my background in German help again?" I wished I could let it go, just accept his flimsy excuse for calling me into his office. Especially if it meant I'd be flying to France and Italy with him over the coming months. But I just couldn't. It wasn't my style.

He trailed his fingers over my other shoulder as he continued to walk. "You caught me. The whole German thing was a guise to get you to agree to work with me. I was trying to butter you up."

"As much as I love butter, I have to ask, why?" I turned to follow him as he walked back to his desk. This time, when he leaned on the desktop, I could make out a very noticeable bulge in his slacks. Unable to resist, I stretched as gracefully as I stood. He followed my movements. That was a good sign. My earlier feelings of insecurity and shame melted away at his look of appraisal. He wanted me. Something deep inside me reacted to that desire. "I've been wanting to work directly under you for years." There.

No more beating around the bush. I'd just called his bluff. To punctuate my intent, I leaned forward until my body was just a whisper away from his. "All you had to do was ask."

Before I realized what he was about to do, he had spun me around so I was pinned between him and his desk. "Know what the best thing about being a boss is?"

"No." My voice was husky as my heart raced. My concerns from this morning had melted away under his heat.

"As a general rule, I don't have to ask for anything. I tell people what I want, and they bend over backwards to make it happen." He picked me up and placed me on the edge of his desk. His intent was crystal clear--he wanted to fuck me. Damned if I was wet with my own need.

"Does my job depend on what I do next?" I needed to know before I committed. "Does flying to Italy and France depend on it?"

He backed up an inch and looked me straight in my eyes. "No. Granted, the international flights would be a little more uncomfortable if you say no. But you'll still be there with me. Sitting right next to me on that eight-hour flight, with me wondering what your skin tastes like every second we're in the air."

I smiled. "Well, I wouldn't want to cause you any discomfort." I slid my hands around his neck. "I don't see how us getting closer could be a bad thing. Especially since we're going to be working together."

"You don't have a problem mixing business and pleasure?"

With him? Never. It didn't escape my attention that I was in the exact same position with Juan as I'd been in with Mike in my diary. Only I was on a powerful executive's desk instead of a Porsche. What was it with me and men of power? "Got a condom?" Yeah. I'd learned a couple of things over the past year.

He produced the protection as I hiked up my skirt. "I'm always prepared."

"Good to know. It'll make the long flights so much more enjoyable." I stilled as a realization hit me. "Unless, of course, this is a one-time thing for you."

"Would that be a problem if it was?" His soft kiss on my shoulder made my skin pebble.

I thought about the answer honestly for a second before I answered, "No." Juan wasn't the one, and he wasn't the type to tell a girl poetry and buy her roses.

"You think having me once will be enough for you?" There was an edge to his voice, almost as if I'd hurt his feelings.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Do you think having me once will be enough?"

He cocked his head, "Why don't we find out together." The condom in place, he pushed my panties to one side. "You ready?"

"I'm always ready." I smiled as I threw his words back at him.

When he slid into me, I sighed. There it was. For one brief moment, I was complete. I was happy. I felt alive. I braced my weight on my elbows as I absorbed his thrusts. If this was what he had in mind over the next couple of months, I was more than game.

A scream worked through my body as I neared my climax. As if sensing my impending call, he lowered his mouth to mine and swallowed the sound as he came with me. Still wearing his suit jacket, my nails didn't have any skin to dig into, so I bit down on his bottom lip. Not enough to make him bleed or even leave a mark. Just hard enough that he'd remember me over the next couple of days. When he pulled out, he met my curious stare. "And?" I asked. "Am I out of your system?"

He ran a palm over his bottom lip before he smiled. "Crazy, but I don't think you are." He disposed of the condom before doing up his pants. "Am I out of yours?"

I studied him carefully, as if I was giving serious thought to his question. "I'm not sure yet. How about I give you a call if I decide I want another round."

He scoffed. "You can't be serious."

I fixed my hair the best I could and then jumped off the desk. My business skirt swirled around my thighs gracefully. "Why?"

"Seriously? I know what I bring to the table."

His statement did intrigue me. "Really? And what would that be? Besides six inches and five seconds of passion?"

"Eight inches," he corrected. "And I'm a successful, good-looking man. Every woman wants a piece of me."

I leaned forward to kiss the tip of his nose. "I guess I just got my piece, Mr. Carlos."

"Now I'm certain."

Opening his office door, I turned to ask, "Certain of what?"

"I'm not done with you yet."

"Then you better work hard at trying to convince me I'm not done with you." I smiled as I let the door close behind me.

The warm feeling of contentment lasted until I got to the first cubicle. The look the guy shot me chilled me to the bone. My diary entry sat open on his monitor. I had no idea who he was. It didn't seem fair that he should know so much about me.

"I don't have a fancy car, sweetie, but I can give you more than five minutes worth of dick." My skin crawled as he looked me up and down. "You give me a call when you want to know what a real man feels like inside you."