ELLIE
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Mr. Morgan entering the bar with a man who wasn’t one of our mutual friends.
“Do you know the guy with him?” I asked, shrinking back.
“I don’t think so. Why? Are you jealous?” Anna teased.
“Haha, very funny. Let’s go. I don’t want him to see me.”
“Why not? Maybe this is the perfect time for a quickie in the bathroom.”
“I’m serious, Anna. Let’s go!”
“Okay, but I’m using the bathroom first.”
“Seriously?”
“Relax, he won’t see you,” she said, getting up from the table in front of me. “I’ll be right back.”
I grabbed my wine glass, hoping it would help hide my face. Mr. Morgan was sitting near the bar, wearing a black overcoat and gloves. His hair was perfectly styled—not at all like the soaked mess he’d been in my apartment this morning. Whenever his hair was so neatly arranged, it made me want to run my hands through it, feel it between my fingers, and tug on it.
A blonde approached his table at that moment, interrupting my fantasy. He stood to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. For a moment, he seemed uncomfortable. The blonde was stunning and smiling. She wore a black dress with tights and stiletto heels. She had a model-like figure—small breasts, slender legs, and not much of an ass either. She was the complete opposite of me.
Were they close? And why did I care? I was thinking about sleeping with him, so maybe it was normal to care. When she touched his arm, I knew for sure. Something about the gesture wasn’t casual at all, maybe the way she was stroking him. I tried to ignore the surge of anger that washed over me. Don’t be ridiculous, Ellie. You have no right to feel this way.
When Anna returned from the bathroom, I grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the bar.
“Who is she?” she asked once we were outside.
“Why would I know?”
“Ellie…” I knew exactly what she was about to say from the sympathetic look on her face.
“Not a word! I can’t believe I even considered sleeping with that bastard! It disgusts me that he tried something with me earlier.” Anna stepped closer and put her arm around my shoulder as we waited for a cab.
“You’re right, you can find someone better and less of a bastard.”
*
The next day, everything I did was fueled by pure anger, from getting up to go to the gym to driving to work. Not even a strong, black coffee was enough to improve my mood. And things only got worse when I received flowers in the morning. Apparently, Todd thought sending me flowers would somehow make me hate him less. But the effect was exactly the opposite.
I crumpled the card in my hand with a clenched fist before letting it fall to the floor. It read: "It's always worth starting over; I just need a chance to do better." Bastard. He could go to hell. Seeing Ethan Morgan’s name in the email I responded to earlier had already been enough. I left the flowers on my desk and grabbed my lab coat before heading to the research room. I would do what I always did—focus on work and forget that anything else existed.
I didn’t stop for lunch and only left the research room when Eve, my intern and assistant, came to get me, saying that Mr. Morgan was waiting for me in my office. I silently prayed it was Bennett Morgan while walking back to my office. But I wasn’t that lucky.
When I entered my office, he was sitting in the chair across from my desk, staring at the flowers. Why hadn’t I thrown them in the trash? He was wearing a suit, as usual.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Morgan,” I said after closing the door and taking a few steps toward my desk. I didn’t sit down. I stood next to my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Good afternoon,” he said, running his thumb over his lower lip. “Nice flowers.”
“I thought I responded to your email this morning. What brings you here?” I ignored his comment and maintained the strictly professional tone I had decided to adopt.
“Precisely. There’s a discrepancy between the reports you sent me and the ones Alice had passed along.”
“May I take a look?”
“Of course.” He opened his black leather briefcase and pulled out some papers. “Here,” he said, placing them on the corner of the desk.
I leaned in just enough to see the paper.
“In long-term investments, under operating expenses. See?” He pointed with a finger.
I leaned in a bit more to better see the numbers. There was a slight difference in the amounts. It was likely just a typo.
I was about to respond when my entire body froze as I felt his hand land on the back of my knee. I couldn’t move a muscle. My heart raced as his palm slowly slid up, sending shivers down my spine and stirring desire deep between my legs. His hand moved dangerously to the inside of my thigh, climbing even higher under my skirt.