It’s fucking karma.
For the first time in my twenty-seven years I spent the entire morning feeling used.
She’s good, that Odessa. I spotted her the second she slinked up to the bar last night and ordered herself a lemon drop martini. We spoke for a while, swapping stimulating conversation laced with sexual innuendos. All I remember after that point is I couldn’t get her home fast enough. By the time I got her to my bedroom, I was two seconds from ripping her dress clean off if she didn’t stop fumbling with the zipper.
I just want the upper hand back.
That’s all.
She’s a microscopic shard of glass stuck under the top layer of my skin. I can’t see her, but I sure as hell feel her.
I rotate my office chair, staring out the floor to ceiling windows at the building across from me. A cute little marketing executive with nice tits and long blonde hair likes to eye fuck the hell out of me most Friday mornings. Not that I can see her eyes from this far away, but in my mind that’s what she’s doing.
Today she’s nowhere to be found.
I slink back in my chair, running my palms along the slick wooden arms and taking in the view of the city in the morning. While my half-brother, Dane, is stationed in Salt Lake City ensuring the business end of our joint venture is running smoothly, I’m posted in the greatest city on earth, focusing on our brand and making valuable connections.
Dane was never a people person. He could command a room with authority and solemnity, but I could charm the pants off any high-powered female executives and get a chuckle from the crustiest of CEOs.
“The consultant is here.” The saccharin voice of my assistant comes over the phone system.
I twist around and press the call button. “Send him in, Julie.”
Our New York branch is small, consisting of Julie and myself, but Dane and I decided to bring someone on to set up our social media and handle press releases while I’m out hobnobbing with the people who matter. Besides, Facebook and Instagram have never been my thing. While everyone is busy posting about how much fun they’re having, I’m actually out having fun.
Never one for patience, I smooth my tie and head to the door. Clearing my throat, I check my breath quickly, and yank the doorknob.
Hell.
Fucking.
No.
The girl before me freezes mid-step, and for a split second I’m not sure which one of us is more shocked. She picks her jaw up off the floor and pulls her shoulders back, zipping her spine.
“Good morning, Beckham.” Odessa Russo pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose, those familiar pink lips tightening.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I lean against the doorframe, ramming my forehead against my clenched fist.
Her arms fold and cinch against her chest.
“My brother hired someone named Sam.” And I was expecting Sam to come equipped with a set of standard issue cock and balls…
“Samantha is my first name.”
“Why’d you tell me your name was Odessa?”
“Because the last thing I need is some crazy one-night-stand Internet stalking me.”
“Lucky for you, I have better things to do with my time.” I inhale the perfume-scented air that envelops us.
Funny how she stands there in cream and pearls like she wasn’t riding my cock all last night. I can still feel the way her tits felt cupped in my hands as she rode me backwards, her pointed nipples grazing my palms.
“So you don’t go by Odessa?”
“Not usually. No.”
I can’t call her Sam. Sam is a girl next door. Sam is benign. Sam is cute and harmless like a fluffy Golden Retriever puppy. That name doesn’t belong on the smart-assed firecracker shooting poison darts my way behind thick-rimmed glasses.
“We going to get started?” She clears her throat and glances over my shoulder. “I assume you have an office for me. I don’t do shared workspaces.”
“You’ll have an office.”
“You have me for three weeks.” She pushes past me, our shoulders brushing in the doorway, and takes a seat in my chair. Her leather satchel rests on top of my desk as she retrieves a thin tablet and swipes her finger across it. “You going to stand there or are we going to get started? I charge by the hour, and the first one began about five minutes ago.”
Fucking Dane. I told him we needed to hire someone fresh out of college, someone young, competent in social media, and obsessed with branding. Bonus points if their degree is in marketing or advertising.
He didn’t listen, claiming I was looking for a hot piece of ass to fuck, and that’s when he took the reins and found…Sam.
I slip my hands in my pockets and take my time walking back to my desk. She may charge an exorbitant hourly rate, but she doesn’t get to bark orders at me or run my office.