Chapter Fifteen
Jenna
I still couldn't wrap my head around the size of the place. A fresh-faced intern named Greg showed me around the offices, babbling enthusiastically about every department and every feature. I could hardly tune in to what he was saying, but I smiled and nodded, trying to pretend like my mind wasn't back in the office with Ben, trying to figure out what he hadn't said to me.
I was anxious for lunch, but not because I was hungry. In fact, I wasn't sure I could eat at all. My nerves were jangled, my stomach tied in knots, and I really didn't know why. After Greg proudly showed me the fancy employee gym, which included a bank of blood pressure monitors, he got an important phone call and had to dart off for a few minutes. To avoid chewing my fingernails down to the nubbins, I plopped myself down in one of the monitors and stuck my arm in the cuff, just for the hell of it.
According to the machine, I was in Stage 2 hypertension and my heart was racing like I'd run ten miles on a Stairmaster.
Briefly, I wondered if fresh-faced Greg would run and fetch me a damn Xanax.
I quickly cleared the display before Greg came back, lest he insist on driving me to the hospital. If possible, he seemed even more perky than usual.
"So, do you want to tour I.T. next?" he asked me.
"Actually, um, I have to make a few phone calls." I cleared my throat, hoping I didn't look as pale as I felt. "Is there somewhere quiet I can go?"
"Absolutely." He ushered me down the hall, towards some empty-looking offices. "We reserve these spaces for any contractors or consultants who might need a place to work. Please, take your time, and page me if you need anything."
I sat down in the office and closed my eyes, focusing on deep, steady breaths. At first, all I could heard was my heart racing, but eventually I began to calm down.
The place wasn't nearly as nice as Ben's, or as expansive, but that was probably just as well. I didn't think full-length picture windows would particularly calm me down. It was small, and it was quiet. That was all I needed.
I sat there with my phone in my hand, thinking about calling Maddy. Things were rushing forward so quickly, and here Ben was introducing me to all of his employees as his girlfriend. Just last week, I'd told her that I had no serious intentions towards Ben. Of course she didn't believe me, and something told me that she wouldn't be shocked, but I had to play my cards carefully. At this rate, everyone in my life was going to think I'd completely lost my marbles.
By the time I'd calmed down, it was after eleven o'clock. I took a few more deep breaths and finger-combed my hair a bit, then heard a light tapping at the door just as I stood up.
"Yes?"
Greg poked his head in. "Sorry to bother you, but Mr. Chase said you had plans for an early lunch." He looked...flustered? Embarrassed? Something had clearly shaken him. Poor Greg. Frowning, I followed him down the hallway and over to yet another massive bank of elevators.
"Do you need me to show you the way back to his office?" he asked, looking like he wished I'd say no.
"Um, do you mind?" I had no idea where the hell I was in relation to my starting point. It might as well have been Antarctica.
He let out a tight breath. "Of course not," he said, falling silent as the elevator doors closed. I wondered what the hell was wrong, until we reached the right floor and I got close enough to see the look on Ben's face, loitering in the doorway to his office.
"Hello, darling," he said, in a tone that almost convinced me. I let him grab my hand and jerk me close, very close, workplace-inappropriate-close. His mouth descended on mine, and I melted to it like we'd been lovers for years. It felt so natural. His tongue sought access and I granted it, forgetting to care that we were being watched, forgetting this wasn't real. My knees buckled, and I leaned against him, feeling his body's unmistakable reaction.
A moment later, he pulled away, and glanced at poor fresh-faced Greg. He was still standing there, red as a beet, waiting for the cue to leave.
I swallowed. Hard.
"See we're not disturbed, Greg. You can go." Ben's voice was husky. Greg nodded, disappearing down the hallway as fast as his legs would carry him.
Ben pulled me inside, shutting and locking the double doors with one hasty, smooth motion. My heart was hammering again. Some part of me really thought he intended to do this - and while my brain reeled at the presumptuousness of it, I couldn't deny that I wanted it. I couldn't deny his kiss had brought my body to life.
He stabbed a button on his phone intercom. "Carol, hold all my calls."
Carol's voice squawked through the speaker. "You already told me that, sir."
"Oh, did I? Something seems to have scattered my thoughts. I apologize, Carol."
"Don't mention it, sir," she said, dryly.
I stared at him, and he stared at me. For a moment, I swear he was almost about to grab me and push me onto the desk. But the wildness in his eyes faded, and he cleared his throat lightly.
"Early lunch, huh?" I said, faintly, lowering myself into a chair. "That's subtle."
"Got to make it convincing." He cleared his throat, sitting down and adjusting his jacket. "Sorry about that display out there, I should've warned you."
"It's fine," I said. "I can roll with the punches."
He smiled. "So to speak."
"What's the, uh...what's the plan, exactly?"
"Well, we'll stay in here for a while," he said. "Then, we'll actually order some lunch. At that point, we should both look like two people who just had furtive sex at work, but are trying to hide it. But not trying too hard. It's a subtle art. But I'm sure you can give me some pointers, with your training."
I laughed, then I realized he was serious. "What, you want me to...finger-tease my hair?"
"Sure," he said. "Whatever you call it. Look disheveled, but not too disheveled. Don't worry, after lunch you can go home and try to wash the stain off your soul."
He wanted a performance? Well, I'd give him one hell of a performance. I buried my fingers into my hair and ruffled hard, then rubbed in circles with a flat hand on the back of my head, to create the illusion of sex-hair. Purposely smudging my lipstick with my hand, I was struck with inspiration. I dug into my purse. Ben was undoing his tie, looking at me with vague interest.
"Come here," I said, holding up my lipstick.
"Seriously?" He grimaced as I approached, dabbing some into my finger and smearing it along his jawline. "Nobody's going to notice that."
"Not consciously," I said, trying hard not to notice the feeling of his stubble on my skin. "But the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. It's like how they handmade all the chain mail for Lord of the Rings. Seems like overkill, but it's what you don't notice that contributes to the overall effect of realism."