Read Online A Previous Engagement by Stephanie Haddad - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stephanie Haddad
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isn’t good, I can’t make you look good. Got it?” He nodded. Someone knocked on my office door, but I kept going, seconds from dismissing Jake. “This has to stop. If you ever want to write another word, you won’t let this kind of bullshit hit Marty’s desk again. Everything comes straight to me until I deem it worthy to move up the chain.”
“Wow, buddy,” said Christian, letting himself in. “If I were you, I’d listen to her.”
Jake looked up, surprised, and nodded vigorously at Christian. “Yes, sir.” Poor kid. He’s only twenty or so, just out of college, and here I am reaming him out for something that probably just needed a few edits. But you know what they say: Shit rolls downhill. I was just moving the capitalist machine forward, since that’s what I get paid to do. I liked to think of these sessions as my civic duty.
I dismissed Jake with a curt nod and waved for Christian to shut the door behind him.
“God, you’re sexy when you crush the souls of your young underlings. Hey—remember when you were an intern?”
“Shut up. I really hate doing that. I feel just like Marty.” I crossed to my mini fridge—yes, I had one of those—and extracted two bottles of water. I tossed one to Christian, who curled up comfortably in the same wingchair where Jake may or may not have just wet himself. I opened the second bottle for myself and took a long swig.
“But you’re good at it,” he said, stretching his legs over one arm. “I was totally scared. Of course, the big-time outfit only adds to your authority.”
My nicest skirt-suit and my long, neat pony tail was a look Christian never failed to comment on. “I have client meetings this afternoon.”
“So you need to look like a movie star?”
“It certainly helps.” I swatted his feet down. “If Marty finds you in here sitting like that—”
“What?” he said daringly. “He’ll smite me? Imprison me in corporate servitude?”
“Don’t you have some pictures to take?” I gestured to the only wall in my office not decorated with an original Christian Douglas print. “That wall looks awfully naked, Mr. Fancy-Pants Photographer.”
“Hey, don’t be jealous that I haven’t been suckered into capitalist America’s lies and pointless drudgery like you have.” I knew he was only kidding, but the words stung. I hadn’t told him how I’d been feeling about things—my life, really—lately.
“You know, you’re a pain in the ass. I’m big and important, and you are wasting my time.”
“No, this is wasting your time.” He crossed towards me, setting our water bottles on my desk. “May I have this dance, Anne Hathaway?” Christian wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing our bodies together, and led me in a slow waltz across my office. He swayed expertly back and forth, sweeping me around several pieces of furniture and then into a deep dip. With his face just inches from mine, I could see the perfect crystal blue of his eyes and smell his cologne—a sweet citrus with spicy undertones, a scent as familiar to my senses as air. He held me bent backwards like that for a moment, then grinned and said, in his mock sexy voice: “Go to lunch with me.”
“Oh! Oh, my God,” said a third voice. “I’m sorry, Tess. I thought we were meeting—”
“For lunch,” I said pointedly, righting my posture and subtly pushing Christian’s hands away. “Christian, Savannah. Savannah, this is Christian.”
I was embarrassed for sure, but having Christian and Savannah face to face was too good to be true. I hadn’t planned for it to happen like this, but it suddenly seemed perfect. Even with the dancing, Savannah knew all about my friendship with Christian. I hoped she wouldn’t get the wrong idea like all the other girls before her. She couldn’t be jealous if she knew the deal going into it, right?
I stood back and watched them, waiting to catch that
“Wow, buddy,” said Christian, letting himself in. “If I were you, I’d listen to her.”
Jake looked up, surprised, and nodded vigorously at Christian. “Yes, sir.” Poor kid. He’s only twenty or so, just out of college, and here I am reaming him out for something that probably just needed a few edits. But you know what they say: Shit rolls downhill. I was just moving the capitalist machine forward, since that’s what I get paid to do. I liked to think of these sessions as my civic duty.
I dismissed Jake with a curt nod and waved for Christian to shut the door behind him.
“God, you’re sexy when you crush the souls of your young underlings. Hey—remember when you were an intern?”
“Shut up. I really hate doing that. I feel just like Marty.” I crossed to my mini fridge—yes, I had one of those—and extracted two bottles of water. I tossed one to Christian, who curled up comfortably in the same wingchair where Jake may or may not have just wet himself. I opened the second bottle for myself and took a long swig.
“But you’re good at it,” he said, stretching his legs over one arm. “I was totally scared. Of course, the big-time outfit only adds to your authority.”
My nicest skirt-suit and my long, neat pony tail was a look Christian never failed to comment on. “I have client meetings this afternoon.”
“So you need to look like a movie star?”
“It certainly helps.” I swatted his feet down. “If Marty finds you in here sitting like that—”
“What?” he said daringly. “He’ll smite me? Imprison me in corporate servitude?”
“Don’t you have some pictures to take?” I gestured to the only wall in my office not decorated with an original Christian Douglas print. “That wall looks awfully naked, Mr. Fancy-Pants Photographer.”
“Hey, don’t be jealous that I haven’t been suckered into capitalist America’s lies and pointless drudgery like you have.” I knew he was only kidding, but the words stung. I hadn’t told him how I’d been feeling about things—my life, really—lately.
“You know, you’re a pain in the ass. I’m big and important, and you are wasting my time.”
“No, this is wasting your time.” He crossed towards me, setting our water bottles on my desk. “May I have this dance, Anne Hathaway?” Christian wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing our bodies together, and led me in a slow waltz across my office. He swayed expertly back and forth, sweeping me around several pieces of furniture and then into a deep dip. With his face just inches from mine, I could see the perfect crystal blue of his eyes and smell his cologne—a sweet citrus with spicy undertones, a scent as familiar to my senses as air. He held me bent backwards like that for a moment, then grinned and said, in his mock sexy voice: “Go to lunch with me.”
“Oh! Oh, my God,” said a third voice. “I’m sorry, Tess. I thought we were meeting—”
“For lunch,” I said pointedly, righting my posture and subtly pushing Christian’s hands away. “Christian, Savannah. Savannah, this is Christian.”
I was embarrassed for sure, but having Christian and Savannah face to face was too good to be true. I hadn’t planned for it to happen like this, but it suddenly seemed perfect. Even with the dancing, Savannah knew all about my friendship with Christian. I hoped she wouldn’t get the wrong idea like all the other girls before her. She couldn’t be jealous if she knew the deal going into it, right?
I stood back and watched them, waiting to catch that
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