Me
You too, I reckon?
Sexy Redhead
Yeah. I haven’t gone through two years of misogynistic jokes just to let the position slip away from me months before his retirement.
Me
Ah, so he’s a twat. Well, if you need any cheering up, let me know.
Sexy Redhead
I’ll probably have to work afterward to compensate for the lost time. Thanks for the offer, though.
Why do I feel used? Actually, do I feel used, or am I disappointed that she isn’t as eager to meet again as I am? I think it’s both. And frustrated too, because I’m usually the one in control—or I havesomecontrol, at the very least. But in this situation, she holds all the cards. All I can do is wait for whenever she wants me to help with something from her list, ready and willing.
And I don’t even know what those things are, which adds to my feeling of powerlessness.
Me
Would you mind sending me your list so I can mentally prepare for what’s to come?
Sexy Redhead
Sure. I’ll type it out and send it to you whenever I have time. See you around, Jake.
I officially feel usedanddiscarded. For the first time since my teenage years, I question my sexual abilities. With a frustrated groan, I drop the phone on the desk and lean into my chair. Genevieve fucking Kensington.
The chemistry between us is undeniable, raw, electric… But as soon as there’s some distance, she acts uninterested. I’m not used to this. Women always come back for more. They often beg for it even, and I have to set boundaries to ensure they don’t start getting ideas.
This time, I’m the one about to beg, and I fucking hate it.
The door to the office opens without a knock first, and Eli takes a step in. “Did you mute us again?” he asks. Mulli springs up as soon as she recognizes the voice and stumbles out of her bed to welcome him.
“Yes, you two need space for your little foreplay,” I reply while he bends down to enthusiastically pet my dog.
“Ha-ha. Kill wants us to be there on Friday so we can help pick the best bottles. I think he just wants to spend some quality time with us. He’s been working like a maniac for weeks.”
“The ransom of glory, I reckon. I’m up for drinks, yeah.”
“When are you not?” he says with a chuckle. When I don’t respond to his fit of humor, his eyebrows twist and come together. “What’s up with you? You’ve been moody.”
“Just the bloody quarterly reports.”
He examines me for several seconds and then shakes his head. “Nah, it usually doesn’t frustrate you this much. Is it because of a certain red-haired beauty?”
My first instinct is to deny, but I can sense the way my jaw ticks, betraying my thoughts before I can fabricate a lie. Eli doesn’t miss it, a smile splitting his face in two as he comes in and closes the door behind him, Mulli bouncing for more of his attention.
“Okay, tell Uncle Elijah everything. What did the little redhead riding your hood do to you?”
“You know I’m circumcised.”
“And I’m paraphrasing. Don’t try to change the subject. What’s going on?” He comes to sit on the sofa opposite me and looks at me over the desk. The Rottie comes between his knees, still in the mood for more head scratches.
“What is this? Therapy? I’m not telling you shit, Eli.”
“Don’t be shy, now. We’re above this toxic masculinity crap—we communicate our feelings in this house.”
