I frown as I imagine getting part of my vagina lips cut off, and how much it would hurt.
He shrugs casually, as if he has this conversation every day. "Men have very different tastes as to what they desire their sexual partner's labia to look like. The one I'm doing tomorrow, for instance. I'm trimming the edges of the labia and filling it with a filler." His eyes hold mine. "She wants it plump and juicy to look at and touch." He pauses. "Hormones sometimes discolor it to a darker shade so we are also going to bleach it down the track so it's a perfect pink."
My face falls. This is a thing?
"It varies," he continues. "Plump, thick labia are to my taste. Personal choice, I guess." His eyes meet mine. "It comes down to how you like it to feel during sex."
"Men can feel the shape of your labia during sex?" I frown. "I had no idea."
He chuckles. "Yes, it's very different from one woman to the next. All a part of the experience, I suppose."
I stare at him, lost for words, and he chuckles.
"Welcome to the world of plastic surgery, Eliza."
I shake my head with an embarrassed smile. "Wow. Okay. Who knew?"
He stands. "Happy you're here, welcome to the team."
"Thanks."
"Oh." His eyes widen. "We have two conferences next month. One in Dallas and one in London. I think the first one is two weeks after you get back from your vacation. The dates are marked in your new calender." He gestures to the calender on the desk.
"And you want me to come?"
"Yes, of course."
"How long will we be away?"
"A week each time."
"Okay." I nod.
"Will that be a problem with your boyfriend?"
"Not at all," I lie.
"Good." His eyes hold mine for a moment longer than they should. "Conferences are a great way to get to know one another properly. You really learn a lot about a person when they depend on you for everything." He gives me a slow sexy smile. "I look forward to it." He turns and walks out of the office, and I sink into the chair. "Eliza?" He pops his head back around the corner.
"Yes?"
"Come and get me any time you need me. I'm at your disposal." He winks.
"Sure." I force a smile. "That's great."
He disappears, and I exhale heavily and look around my office.
Shit…
I really need to get laid before I go on those conferences with him. I could get drunk and ask him for a labia appraisal. This could be a fucking nightmare waiting to happen. I open the calender and flick through to the conference dates that are marked in. I search through the drawer and find a lead pencil, and I scribble the words:
No drinking at conference!
At the end of the day, I walk out into reception. The girls have all left. I take out my phone and text Nathan.
Coming now
A message bounces back.
I'm downstairs.
I smile.
xo
I push the button on the elevator. It arrives, and I step in.
"Hold the door, please," someone calls.
I put my hand in the door to hold it, and Henry rushes in.
"Thanks." He smiles. He's undone his navy tie, and it is hanging loose around his crisp white shirt
"How was your first day?" he asks.
"Great." I smile. "I had a wonderful day."
"Wait till I get you into surgery. I can't wait to fry your brain."
I giggle.
"Penis enlargements are my specialty." He holds his hands apart to signify twelve inches and I laugh out loud just as the door opens.
Henry puts his hand on my waist to lead me out, and I look up into the gaze of Nathan. He's leaning against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his expensive charcoal suit trousers.
He clenches his jaw at Henry.
"Nathan." I smile awkwardly as I walk over to him. "There you are."
He snaps his arm around my waist and bends to kiss me. His lips are a little open, and he sucks with just the right amount of suction. My knees weaken from under me.
Oh, wait, what?
"Hello," Nathan says.
"Good to see you again, Nathan," Henry replies. "She did fantastic." He smiles down at me. "She's like a dream come true."
"Is that so?" Nathan says dryly.
Oh crap.
Eliza
Henry's gaze holds Nathan's for a moment longer than he should, and then he smiles.
"Have a good night, you two."
Nathan gives him a smug smile. "We always do." He puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me to him.
I'm still reeling from his kiss. My lips are tingling. What kind of kiss was that?
Nathan watches Henry walking across the road. "I don't like him."
"You don't even know him."
His attention comes back to me. "Why did you tell him I was your boyfriend?"
"Good idea playing along with that kiss, by the way," I say quickly to try and distract him. "I think it looked realistic."
Nathan takes my hand and begins to power walk up the street. "Why did you tell him you had a boyfriend?" He demands as he pulls me along. "Did he make a pass at you?"
"N-no," I stammer, nearly running to keep up with him.
"Did he make you feel uncomfortable?"
"No."
"What is it then?" He growls.
"Nathan, I just thought it would make me sound more reliable and grounded, you know?"
He turns toward me and stops. "That's fucking bullshit, Eliza, and you know it."
"You know what?" I huff. "Why the hell did you come and pick me up from work if you just want to be a jealous jerk?" I rip my hand out of his. "Screw you, I'll go celebrate my first day by myself. Go home. You've ruined it now." I storm off. If he wants dramatics, he can damn well have them.
"I'm just saying that I don't like him," he says as he follows me.
"Well, it's lucky he isn't your boss then, isn't it? First, you don't talk to me because of Samuel, and now you want to whine about my boss. Is there anything that doesn't piss you off, Nathan?"
"Nope. You've pretty much got it fucking covered right now, Eliza."
I turn on him like he's the devil himself. "What the hell does that mean?"
"Don't give me that tone." He growls.
"Oh, but you can give me that tone, and that's perfectly fine?" I turn and storm off, once again. "I don't know what's come over you lately; you're acting fucking weird," I bark. "Hot, cold, angry, sulking. Your mood swings are giving me whiplash."
"I just want to protect you," he calls from behind me. "Where are we walking to?"
"To a bar!" I snap. "I told you to go home. I'm not in the mood for a three-hour temper tantrum from a two-year-old."
"You want to go to the bar by yourself so you can pick up a fuck, is that it? Am I in the way, Eliza?"
I roll my eyes. "I'm not even joking now. Go the fuck home."
I see a place that looks nice, and I storm inside and sit down at the bar. Nathan follows and sits down beside me.
"What will it be?" the bartender asks.
"I'll have a margarita, please," I say as I try to calm my anger.
The bartender looks to Nathan, who holds up two fingers. "Make it two."
We sit in silence as I watch the bartender making our drinks.
"Sorry," Nathan finally mutters.
"For what?"