Seduced by Him(3)

“Oh God, are you going to have sex with him?” she asked, her voice low. I knew she was at work and she wasn’t one to talk openly with strangers around about anything to do with sex.

“Wanting to and getting to are two different things,” I answered.

“Ansiley, if you sleep with him it could cost you your job.”

I hated hearing reason when all I wanted to hear was confirmation dinner was a good idea and that I was forgiven from having to bail out on girls’ night. I should have called Lisa. She’d have told me to show up at dinner naked to be sure I got sex out of the night. Stupid me, I picked the more repressed of my best friends as a phone-a-friend-helpline.

“What are you going to wear?”

“Exactly what I’m in,” I replied. “He said it was fine.”

“How late will you be?” Worry coated her voice.

I smiled. “I’ll be home before curfew, Mom.”

“Wench,” she teased.

“Love you too. Gotta go.” I hung up and returned to my task at hand—my job.

At the one-and-a-half-hour mark from when Hoates had arrived, the voices from Jeremy’s office became louder. Things were heated, more than normal when the two of them were together.

“Ansiley, bring me the Gates file,” Jeremy said from his office.

I grabbed the file he’d requested and slipped my T-strap heels back on. It took practice to be able to ease in and out of them, but I managed. I had a bad habit of slipping them off whenever I sat at my desk. I entered Jeremy’s office and moved past William Hoates as fast as I could.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” I asked, my gaze on Jeremy.

He didn’t look up from the papers before him. “No.”

He was pissed. Glad it wasn’t at me.

“I’ll take a tall glass of you,” William said smugly. He whistled between his teeth and stared me up and down blatantly. “I can see why Jeremy spends so much time at work. With a secretary as hot as you I’d never leave the office either.”

“William,” Jeremy said sternly. “She is an administrative assistant and not up for discussion.”

“Come on, Jer,” William returned, sounding whiny. “We’ve known each other a long time. She’s exactly your type. You like them with dark hair and blue eyes—creamy pale skin.”

“Enough,” said Jeremy.

William couldn’t seem to leave well enough alone. He’d never been this overtly inappropriate to me before. “You vanished from the scene months ago and we all wondered what happened. I didn’t realize you were getting your kink on here at the office. Damn. She is fine. Tell me, does her ass pink up as quickly as her cheeks do? I bet she creams every time your hand meets her sexy ass.”

Normally, I was great about keeping my mouth shut and doing my job. William had always rubbed me the wrong way, and before I knew it, I was speaking without thinking. “Mr. Hoates, I’m two seconds away from taking Mr. Dermott’s letter opener and committing a felony. I’ll end up in prison and you’ll end up one nut short, so I’ll ask again, do you want anything to drink?”

When I finished, I realized what I’d done and who I’d done it to. A man Jeremy had been working for months with to broker a deal. Tensing, I looked toward my boss and found him standing, his heated gaze on William.

“Out,” he said clearly and with so much force I jolted slightly.

Nodding, I turned to leave.

He caught my wrist gently. “Not you.”

William balked. “Wait. Me? Jer, you can’t be serious. You’re going to let a two-dollar tramp…”

Releasing my wrist, Jeremy growled a second before he leaned forward fast. He snatched hold of William and lifted him out of his seat. “Get out.”

He released William’s jacket and William fell backwards, barely managing to stay upright. William’s heated gaze found me. It hardened. He adjusted his tie and pivoted, exiting quickly.

I went to the chair he’d been in and straightened it before turning to look at Jeremy. “I’m sorry I said what I did to him, Mr. Dermott.”

He rubbed his brow and bent his head. “Ansiley, call me Jeremy.”

“Sorry,” I said softly.

He looked to me. “I’m the one who is sorry.”

My brows knit.

“For William’s behavior.”

“Oh, okay.” I tipped my head, my long hair falling over my shoulder. “It’s not your fault he’s a douchebag.” Cringing, I lowered my gaze. “I mean, well, um, it’s not your fault, sir.”

He came around the desk and stood before me. His forefinger caught just under my chin. He forced my gaze up. “You’re right. He is a douchebag, and I’d prefer it if you called me by my name, not sir. At least not now.”