I finish up my grooming, grabbing my suit coat off the bed. The bed is an absolute mess, but my maid will be in here to clean it up. I throw my coat over my shoulder and leave my bedroom. I'll save the coat for later when I'm getting ready to go to the office.
I walk down the hall and knock on Sophie's door. She's been a sleepyhead recently, and I'm not going to let her skip school because I trusted her to get up on her own.
"Get up, Sophie," I say. "Rise and shine."
I hear a groan in the room and a creaking bed. Great, she hasn't even woken up yet. When she doesn't reply, I open the door and peek in. All I see is a spray of hair sticking out from under the sheet and what looks like her left foot hanging out below.
"Sophie, get up," I say, tapping on the door. "You've got twenty minutes."
Sophie's reply is a low, grumbling moan. "Ugh, I'm trying to sleep."
With no warning, I grab the blanket and sheet near her ankle and yank the covers.
"Ohmygawd! It's cold, you ass!" Sophie yells, trying to grab the blanket, but I pull it the rest of the way off. Her disheveled hair gives her a stringy, mop-top appearance as she looks up at me with red eyes. She must've been up late last night, and I only hope it's because she was cracking her history books.
"Get up. You have that test, remember?"
"Can't you just give me a note and call in sick?" Sophie says, reaching for the little decorative blanket over her headboard, but before she can, I snatch it up and throw it out the door. "I fucking hate that class!"
"Doesn't matter," I reply, knowing the feeling. "Get up unless you want me to get the Super Soaker."
I'm not one to be physical with a woman, but I've found the squirt gun a great way to get a teenage girl out of bed quickly. "Jerk," she mutters. She grumbles and gets out of bed. "You're the world's biggest asshole."
"An asshole who wants what's best for you," I say, holding back my grin. I know she doesn't mean anything by it. "And be careful. I don't want you to fall and crack that big head of yours."
I leave her room and go in the kitchen, indulging in one of my personal hobbies. Setting my coat across the back of a chair, I grab the cast-iron skillet and start making breakfast. Six minutes later, I have scrambled eggs, toast, marmalade, and a glass of orange juice sitting at the table. Sophie comes out, and while her eyes are still red, she's at least brushed her hair out and looks cute, in a sort of teenage high school fuck the world, I wanna be in bed sort of way.
"You stay up all night?" I ask. "You seemed to be sleeping when I came home."
Sophie nods. "I tried, but I woke up. I was on my phone."
Alarm bells go off in my head. "With whom?"
"Jax," she says flippantly, as if texting with someone that late is normal.
My stomach tightens. "Who's he?"
"Just a boy from my math class," she says. "We talk sometimes."
I bite my tongue. That's something I don't really want to touch unless I absolutely have to. "Cool," I say, trying to be nonchalant. "Bring him by sometime so I can meet him."
She's mortified. "Seriously? You're cool and all, but I don't want to scare him away."
Exactly, I think inwardly.
We finish breakfast and go out and get in my ride, a ten-year-old Maserati that I keep in tip-top shape. I could let the horses loose on her and smoke just about anything on the streets if I wanted. But it's not my thing anymore. Like I told Roxy, I had to grow up fast. I usually drive Sophie to school instead of having a driver take her unless it's unavoidable. I work so much that I don't see enough of her as it is.
The early morning traffic is just starting to get brutal on the way to Sophie's high school, but we talk about things on the way. Most importantly to me, this Jax. She tries to be as secretive as possible. I'm not liking it, but I'm not going to make a deal of it.
Sophie looks over at me as we pull to a stop light. "You look handsome today," she says, changing the subject.
"All right," I reply with a laugh. "What do you want this time?"
"No, seriously. You have an extra pep in your step or something today," says Sophie. "Something just seems different. I'm not trying to be weird or say you don't dress well usually. All my girlfriends seem to notice."
"Good for them," I say. "But I'm too old and definitely not the Prince Charming they think I am."
Sophie laughs. "Just trying to poke and see if there's something going on I don't know about. It'd be nice to see you focus on yourself for once. You've done enough for me."
I'm silenced, and I'm glad we've reached her school. It's not really something I want to talk about right now. I pull up out front, seeing the crowded student parking lot. I've considered getting her a car for her next birthday, but as crowded as that parking lot is, I'm not sure it'd do any good.
Sophie opens her door and grabs her bag, starting to get out before she stops and sits back down, giving me a half-pouting look. "For real, Jake. Chill out some. Go have some damn fun."
"I'll think about it."
She grins and jumps out. "Thanks. You're still a jerk for threatening the Super Soaker, but I'll keep you around."
"You'd better ace that test!" I call after her as she closes the passenger door.
I pull away and turn left at the first light, catching the main boulevard to head into the office. As I park and take the elevator up to Franklin Consolidated, I watch the city rise through the glass outside the elevator. It's beautiful, and I'm looking forward to the day, maybe even more than a normal Tuesday. I glance down at my Rolex as the doors open. "Just on time."
It's a bustle of activity as I walk onto the main floor. People are calling clients, and I can hear the hum, the lifeblood of business flowing through the cubicle maze. I see people hustling, and I wonder if just my presence here after one day is making the changes that I want to see.
My eyes scan the room as I walk through on the way to my office, but I'm really only looking for one person in particular. Finally, I see Roxy, my stomach going tight as I take in her dark skirt and blue blouse. She looks up, almost as if she felt my eyes on her, and our eyes meet. She tears her gaze away, but not before I see the slight flush of pink on her neck. The corner of my lips lifts into a grin, and I turn away, heading to my office.
I get in and set my briefcase aside. Pulling my laptop to me, I fire it up and get to work. There's a report request from corporate about my first impressions on the managers and who I might see being potential ‘trimmings', but it's too early for that. I send back a message saying that I need the rest of the week for evaluations, but I'll get them my initial ideas by Friday.
Elena sticks her head in ten minutes after I finish, a folder in her hands. "Here's the building inventory report Tom wanted to give you," she says, setting it down on my desk.
I glance at it, knowing I'll need to read it over but not wanting to. It's just not that important to me. "Thank you."
"Is there anything I can get for you, sir?"
"Get me the Hendricks report and the projections for next quarter. I'd like to review those before lunch."
"Right away," she says, walking briskly to the door.
My next words fly from my lips before I can stop them. "Oh, and Elena? Send Miss Price in, if you would."
Once again, she looks at me with confusion in her eyes. Roxy is supposed to be an assistant but not my secretary. She's not even high enough up the ladder to be talking with me at all. I can see Elena wonders what the hell I'm doing. But she doesn't question me. "Of course, sir."
When she leaves, I sit back in my chair, inwardly shaking my head at myself.
Was there any reason for that? I don't need anything from her right now. But I can't help myself. I just want to see her, hear her.
Several minutes later, there's a knock at the door, and I set down the pen that I've been spinning across my knuckles. I quickly adjust my tie and turn to my laptop, trying to look like I've been working and not daydreaming. "Come in."
The door opens, and Roxy walks in. I have a hard time keeping my jaw from dropping as she closes the door. She's so beautiful dressed in her tight skirt and blue blouse, her curvaceous figure seeming to taunt me with the promise of paradise. Under my desk, my blood warms my crotch as I think of the things that I want to do to her. That I almost had.
"You wanted me, sir?" she asks softly.
Sir. All business now. None of that playful spark I've noticed since first meeting her. I see how it is. She's trying to put a barrier between us by being professional. I don't like it. I want her spread out on my desk, her legs wrapped around my hips as I fill her with my cock.