I’m writing this because I’m heartbroken.I’m writing this because I’m in love.I’m writing this because more amazing, astounding, mind-blowing things have happened to me in the last two months than in my whole life before I met him, combined.I’m writing this because I’ve lost more than I ever thought I would be able to bear.And even though I hate myself for doing it, I pray to God I can hold him… …kiss him……make love to him……just one last time.• • •Okay, enough of mopey beginnings. I’m really not that kind of girl, I swear.I guess I should say ‘woman,’ not ‘girl.’ I am 24, after all, and, well, you know – ‘yay feminism,’ right? It’s just that I never really felt like I was an adult. In a lot of ancient societies, they had some sort of ritual that women go through where you know you’re a woman afterwards. ‘You passed the ritual? Congratulations, you’re a woman by definition!’In the 21st Century United States of America, getting married or having a baby probably qualifies. Al
It was 5:55 PM on Friday when Anh stopped by my desk and put on her sad, hesitant face. Anh (pronounced ‘On’) is this adorable little Vietnamese American girl whom I’ve known since I was a sophomore in college and she was a freshman. At barely five feet in heels and a year younger than me, I feel okay calling her a ‘girl.’ She wouldn’t mind.I envy how thin she is; I like that she’s one of the few people who makes me feel tall; and I love her for getting my sense of humor, for having been my therapist/mom through a couple of wretched breakups, and for generally putting up with me.Plus, she lets me pay less in rent even though our bedrooms are the same size. I think she does that because, even though she got me the job, she feels bad that I wound up working for Herr Klaus.I refer to him as ‘Herr Klaus’ because ‘the Exec Comp Nazi’ might get me fired. Yes, I know, I know, I shouldn’t go around comparing my jerk boss to actual, real-life monsters who destroyed millions upon millions o
I think I can safely say it was the sexiest voice I’d ever heard.George Clooney sexy.Barry White smooth.Clive Owen without the British accent.And young. Much younger than the men I just mentioned – but I can’t think of any hot actors my own age with a voice like that.Deep. Rumbling. Powerful.And confident.You could tell from the first few words that this guy was used to getting his way. Not a demanding prima donna, but just kind of a ‘the king has spoken, now make it so’ kind of way.You could also tell he was trouble from the get-go.“This is Connor Brooks from LMGK. Please put Klaus Zimmerman on.”I just sort of sat there, hypnotized.If his voice was wine, I’d want to drink it all. night. long.Pour it all over me, please.After a couple of seconds of me being a silent doofus, he spoke again, more impatient this time. “Hello? Is anyone there?”I snapped back to reality. “Uh… I’m sorry, Mr. Brooks, but Mr. Zimmerman left just a few minutes ago. I can make an appointment with
The crowd in the marble-floored, exquisitely decorated lobby was thinned out by the time I stepped out of the elevator. In Los Angeles, anybody who has a modicum of power or money jumps ship by 4PM so they can get a head start on traffic. To home, to drinks, to dinner, or maybe out of town to Vegas.Everybody else pretty much calls it quits by 6PM and accepts their lot in life is to suffer on jam-packed freeways.The peons, like me, are stuck watching all the other people get on with their lives.So when I walked out of the elevator, there weren’t that many people to get in the way of my seeing him.Oh.My.God.He was standing at the desk chatting with Stanley. It had to be him. No way that one man that gorgeous, and another guy with the voice on the phone, could simultaneously coexist in the same building and not be the same person. The odds were too high. Even if they were two people, their combined sexiness would pull them together and fuse them into one perfect male, like two sta
Connor saw my face and laughed. “You should see what you look like right now.”“You did not just hang up on my boss,” I almost shouted.I’d gotten my voice back, which was good. Basically, my overwhelming fear of losing my job – and my irritation at Connor losing it for me – overrode all the physical attraction that was keeping my tongue tied.He held out the phone to me and grinned. “You’re adorable when you’re angry, you know that?”I snatched it out of his hand. “How are you even going to call him when you – ”And then I knew. When I had initially handed my cell to him, he’d glanced down at the screen.And seen the number.CRAP.He saw that I’d figured it out and winked as he pulled out his own cell. “Yes, I saw it – and yes, I remember it. I have a good head for numbers – 3.1415926, 186,000 miles per second…”And here he glanced up and down my body with a devilish look.“…34, 24, 35.”Then he winked at me with that grin. I blushed fire engine red.Those are my measurements. Well,
I must have been staring at him like he’d grown an extra head, because Connor gave me a mystified expression.“…what?”“What do you mean, ‘what’? What the hell was that?!” I fumed.“My only entertainment on a boring Friday night,” he grinned, then turned around and stuck out his arm. “Stan, a pleasure. Good to meet you.”Stanley just nodded his head in stunned silence as he shook hands.“Shall we?” Connor asked me as he gestured to the elevators with one hand and put the other on the small of my back.Oh.My.God.Just that firm pressure there – the warmth of his hand, of his very large hand pressed in the curve of my back – sent a pleasurable jolt of electricity up and down my spine.And his fingers slipped a little farther down as he pushed me gently forward. Just an inch or so.He didn’t touch my rear end or anything, but… it was headed in that direction before his hand stopped and his fingertips pressed a little harder.My knees got a little weak.“Okay,” I agreed feebly, and we w
We made our way back to my desk and Klaus’s office.The silence was a little uncomfortable.They have a saying in sales: the first person to speak, loses. Imagine a salesman is making a pitch to an undecided customer. When the salesman finishes his presentation and asks for the sale, he has to stop talking and wait for an answer. If he says something before the customer does, it looks like he’s desperate for the sale, and we all know how attractive desperation is. Whereas, if the undecided customer says something first, there’s this unspoken balance of power he’s bought into and acknowledged. Psychologically, he’s given the power over to the salesman, which usually results in the customer signing on the dotted line. Whoever speaks first, loses.In this scenario, I lost.“You still haven’t said what’s so important about these files that you have to waste a perfectly good Friday night,” I said, if for no other reason than to get the conversation flowing again.“Actually, I believe I di
Connor spent another hour intently examining file after file. He asked for the companies by name, and he seemed to know exactly what he was looking for.I didn’t do much except look for folders as he sat in Klaus’s designer office chair, his rock ‘n roll boots propped up on Klaus’s desk, and read and read and read.At the end, he tossed the last file on Klaus’s desk and leaned back, his fingers steepled in front of his face as he thought.I looked at him. He looked at me.“I feel like a cappuccino. You feel like a cappuccino?” he asked.“Uh… I guess I could go get some Starbucks if you want,” I agreed, feeling a little let down. I’d spent the first ten minutes of our acquaintance fielding passes from him, and the last thirty minutes playing Susie Secretary. Now I was demoted to Gidget Gopher.“Screw that,” he said. “Last time I was here, there was a pretty nice machine up in the boardroom. Want to check it out?”My heart caught in my chest.Exerton rented the penthouse of the building