Mine to Keep, page 5
six
Caine
I pull into the parking garage and the first thing I spot is her SUV, which makes me grip my steering wheel even tighter. “Get over it,” I mutter, putting the car in park before getting out. I walk past her SUV and stop to look inside, seeing that it’s empty, which is a far cry from Friday when it was busting at the seams. All week I kept to myself. I spoke to her only when I needed to speak to her. I never asked her a question I knew I shouldn’t ask her because the little minx had gone to human resources about me.
Was she wrong? No, no, she was not. I asked her questions I shouldn’t have asked her and were of no concern to me. She was of no concern to me, except she was all I fucking thought about all fucking weekend long. Which pissed me off even more. The whole time I’m walking to the elevator, I have to remind myself that she’s way too young for me and in a different league. She’s probably dating some university kid who graduated with her. You were whacking the mole all weekend, thinking of her while she was probably planning your murder.
“I’m not going to let her get to me,” I tell myself as I press the button. “I’m not going to let her get to me.” The minute I know I’m going to see her soon, my palms get sweaty. I step into the elevator and press the floor button and then look up at the numbers.
My heart speeds up even more, which is the stupidest thing that’s ever happened to me. Maybe this is a sign I’m having a stroke. Or maybe it’s the fact all you want to do is fuck her. Maybe it’s the fact all you see when you look at her is her sucking your cock or her bending over your desk and telling you how hard she wants it. Just the image of these thoughts gets my cock at half-mast.
I step out of the elevator and nod to the receptionist, who smiles at me, turning and walking into the office space. My eyes scan the room, and I want to tell myself I’m just doing it to see who is here, but I’m lying. I’m scanning the room to see where she is. I spot her right away talking to Brian or Ryan or is it Kevin? I can’t remember his name. He works as Jaret’s PA. The two of them are walking out of the kitchen area, both of them with a coffee in their hand. He gives her a nod before she heads down the hall and he just stands there watching her walk away. His eyes are straight on her ass as he lifts the cup to his mouth. He watches for a second before he must sense my eyes on him. He lifts his eyebrows, trying not to panic in an I got caught staring at her ass moment.
My eyes watch him walk away before I turn and watch Grace walk down the hallway like it’s a runway. All I can see is legs, lots and lots of legs. That and her fucking sky-high heels she wears to taunt me. Her green skirt is mid-thigh, which should not be worn at work. She’s wearing a white shirt underneath that shows off a bit of her midriff, which again should be covered. Then she has a suit jacket that is white with some peach flowers and green, I have no idea. I just know that it looks like an hourglass. I make a mental note to redo the employee handbook before turning to see her sleeves are pulled up and I can see her wearing some gold bracelets today. Her hair is down and curled perfectly. “Good morning,” she greets when I approach her desk.
“Good morning,” I mumble. “I guess you being here means your OnlyFans didn’t take off.” My head screams what the fuck is wrong with you the minute the words are out of my mouth.
She smirks at me, putting her cup on her desk and leaning over. Another thing I should add to the employee handbook is no bending over desks. She’s constantly bending over the fucking desk, leaving her ass on display. “That isn’t how OnlyFans works,” she informs me. “I want to have five hundred subscribers before I quit.”
“Well, you should tell your feet people.” Again, I inwardly groan and tell myself to shut the fuck up.
“Good idea.” She picks up her phone. “Going to send out the email right now.” She taps on her phone for a second before she turns and laughs at me; the little shit. “Would you like a coffee?” She now sits slightly on her desk, making her legs look like they need to be wrapped around my waist.
“No,” I snap before walking into my office, really wanting a coffee. I grab my phone to place an order for coffee when the phone rings in my hand, and I see it’s my mother calling. “Hello, Mother,” I answer, putting the phone to my ear, as I look out and see Grace is sitting at her desk.
“Caine,” she says, and I can hear she’s walking in New York because all I hear is honking in the background. “How are you, dear?”
“What did I do?” I ask her right away, and she chuckles. “Every single time you call me dear, it’s not a good thing.”
“Nonsense,” she denies. “Anyway, I’m calling because I just got off the phone with Nash.” I look out and see Jaret has walked in and stopped at Grace’s desk. I watch him as my mother goes on and on. He lifts his hand when he catches me watching him. “So, what do you think?” my mother asks, and I have to stop glaring at Jaret and look down at my hand.
“What do I think about what?” I ask, getting up and taking off my jacket.
“Nash was telling me that your new PA knows someone who can help plan the gala,” she huffs. “I need you to set up a meeting and let me know. Gotta run, love you. Kiss Meadow for me.”
She hangs up before I tell her no, making me groan. I pull up the thread for my brother.
I’m about to text Nash when the phone rings in my hand, and I see Marylin has messaged me. She actually messaged me last week, and I never opened it. I click her name and see that she sent me over five texts.
Marylin: Caine, I’m thinking of coming to town and would like to know if I can visit Meadow.
Marylin: Hey, Caine, circling around to my previous text.
Marylin: Good morning, Caine, I’m coming to town sometime this week. I’ll let you know when I land.
Marylin: Caine, I’ll be in town on Monday night. I was thinking maybe we can do lunch on Tuesday.
Marylin: I’ll be at your place Tuesday morning instead, see you then. Please tell my daughter I’ll be visiting.
I scoff at all the texts.
Caine: Marylin, just got your texts. Call me when you land, and we can figure out when it’s a good time for Meadow.
I’m about to press send when there is a knock on my door, and I look up to see Grace. “You’re late,” she informs me, and I stare at her. “Meeting was supposed to start five minutes ago.”
“Shit,” I swear, getting up and grabbing my files with me. “Thanks.”
She stands there, and when I get close enough to her, I can smell her perfume. “My mother would like you to set up a meeting with the event planners.”
“Your mother?” She folds her arms over her chest, and it pushes her tits higher.
“Yes,” I confirm, stepping away from her and her smell.
“Well, if it’s for your mother, I can’t say no, can I?” She walks toward her desk and bends over. This time, one of her feet comes up just a touch. “I’ll see what I can do.” I just stare at her like I’m under this fucking spell.
“Caine!” Vinny shouts from the conference room. “Are you coming?”
“Have the information ready for me when I’m done,” I snap before I turn and walk toward the conference room.
“Sorry for the delay,” I say, walking in and pulling out my chair.
“Why don’t we have any juice boxes,” Steven says, “and the animal crackers? Who did the snacks today?”
“Kayla,” Vinny reports. “I’ll add it to the list for next week.”
“Are we going to start?” I say to the table, and not giving them a chance, I start the meeting.
“There is that dinner tonight,” Vinny reminds me when we end the meeting, and I nod my head. “We’ll head down together,” I tell him, walking out of the office and seeing Grace at her desk, her eyes on the computer screen in front of her.
“Grace,” I say her name before walking into my office, tossing my jacket on the couch, and walking to my desk. I look up and find Grace is still at her desk. “Grace?” I watch her look over her shoulder at me, and I raise my hand to tell her to come here. She gets up and slowly makes her way to my office. “What are you doing?”
“I was emailing my feet customers,” she deadpans, pointing over her shoulder, and it makes her shirt rise a bit on the left side.
“I called you,” I tell her.
“No.” She comes into the office farther. “You said my name.”
“Twice,” I remind her.
“Okay, you said my name twice,” she admits. “You didn’t say anything after that, so how was I supposed to know you wanted me to come to your office?” I glare at her. “I just thought you were reminding yourself what my name was.” My eyes squint even more. “Or like a ’sup, Grace.”
“I know your name. When I call your name, it’s because I want something,” I grind out between clenched teeth.
“Well, now that we’ve got that figured out.” She claps her hands. “What can I do for you?”
“Do you have the information for me?” I ask, and she nods her head.
“I’ve set up a Zoom call,” she says, saving me a step. I should be thankful, but because I’m an asshole, I’m not. “I’ve already set it in your calendar.”
“Good. Do you have the file I gave you on Friday?” I ask, and she nods. “Can you get it so we can go over it?”
“I can,” she agrees, turning around and going to her desk. Now I’m the one looking at her ass, but the jacket covers most of it. She stops by the side of her desk and bends over again, making my cock wake up. I’ve never been at work with so many hard-ons in my life. I’m too old for this shit. She turns, coming back into the office with the file in one hand and a pad in the other.
“Okay,” she says, sitting in front of me, “give it to me.”
“Excuse me?” I reply, my heart beating so fast I hear it echo in my ears.
“I’m ready for it,” she rephrases, looking at me, and I swear all the blood in my body goes to one place and one place only, my cock, like the dirty old man people are going to call me. “Are you okay?” Grace asks me.
“I’m fine.” I look down at the paper in front of me. “Now let’s go over the client so we can get everything we need for the meeting in two days.”
seven
Grace
“‘I can buy myself flowers.’” I sing along to the radio as I head to work. I pull into the parking lot and go to the spot I always use even though I said I would stop using it, but I’m a creature of habit, so I’m sticking to my guns.
Turning the car off, I grab my purse from the passenger seat before I snatch the phone off the middle console apparatus my father installed in my car when he was here this weekend. Opening the door, I hold up my long flowy skirt before putting one foot down and then the other. I lean in, grabbing the white takeout coffee cup I picked up this morning on the way to work. I’m dragging ass today. School is beyond a doubt much harder than I thought it would be. I mean, I knew it was an intense program. I just didn’t know how intense it would be with me working full-time, then doing class five days a week for four hours every night. Plus doing homework until the wee hours of the morning. If my family hadn’t been here this weekend, I would have tried to get ahead in my homework, but they stayed until Sunday evening. The good news is I’m officially all moved in. Every box has been unpacked, and it’s starting to feel like home to me.
I shut the door with my hip before pressing the button on the door handle, hearing the beep, and seeing the side mirrors turn inward. I look around like I always do, in case I spot someone hiding between the cars, ready to come and attack me—something my grandfather Casey put in my head. Everything looks like it’s supposed to, so I walk to the elevator and press the button. The doors open the minute I press the button, and I step in, moving to the side.
It's a quiet ride this morning since I’m the only one in the elevator. I step out and see Kayla getting out of the other elevator. “Good morning.” I smile at her, and she looks me up and down.
“You hands down win for the best wardrobe.” She shakes her head. “I have wardrobe envy.”
I look down at my outfit today. I went with a long floral chiffon skirt that reached my ankles. It looks like it’s a baby blue but has pink and green pastel flowers. The top is a tight, sleeveless light-blue crotchet top with ruffles on the front. I called it the butterfly shirt when I got it. Of course, the shoes match the top because otherwise, I’m called a savage by my grandmother. “I wish I could take credit,” I tell her, “but my grandmother buys me all my clothes.”
“Your grandmother?” she states, shocked. “Mine got me a sweater that had tassels and fringe for Christmas.”
I chuckle at her as we make our way over to our desks. “Yeah, my grandmother is very special in that department.” I also don’t add she was a supermodel because that is just awkward. There is that, and then they go down the rabbit hole, and I have to explain who my family is. And let’s be honest, ain’t no one got time for that.
“See you later,” she says when she gets to her desk before I walk over to mine. Caine is obviously not in his office because, unlike me, he doesn’t have to be here at eight. No, Mr. I Expect You to Be Here at Eight Every Day saunters in closer to nine. It doesn’t really bother me since I get a full hour without him breathing down my neck in the morning.
“Morning,” Kevin greets when he stops by my desk on his way into the kitchen. “How are you this morning?”
I smile at him. “I’m good. How are you?”
“I’m doing great now that I saw you.” He smirks at me.
“Such a charmer,” I reply, trying to be polite. I look at him—typical frat-boy persona in a suit I know is tailored, so either he comes from money, or he doesn’t save anything. His hair is perfectly cut and styled to the side. His Rolex looks like it’s brand new, again probably a gift from his parents. Don’t get me wrong, I’m in the same boat he’s in, but nothing about him pulls me in. I wish it did. I wish I was attracted to him instead of the ogre I work for. An ogre who is married with a child. Who is scratched off the list completely; actually, he doesn’t even get a place on that list.
“See you later.” He winks at me, and I swear to God I hear eww in my head. I grab my white cup of coffee and bring it to my lips, taking a sip, when my office phone rings.
“Caine Griffin’s office, this is Grace. How may I help you?” I hold the phone with my shoulder, looking around for a pen.
“Hey, it’s me,” Caine says, and it sounds like he’s running around.
“Hi.” I put my coffee cup down and wait to hear what he has to say.
“I need you to do me a favor,” he states.
“Sure,” I reply, then I smile. “Just, who is this?” I roll my lips when he hisses into the phone.
“It’s me, Caine,” he grumbles, and I can picture his ugly face now. Okay, maybe not ugly, but I’m pretending it is to help me get through the day. “Who did you think it was?”
“I have no idea. You just said, ‘Hey, it’s me.’” I take my pen and tap it on the pad in front of me. “It could have been a whole slew of people. It could have been Justin Bieber. It could have been Pedro Pascal. It could have been, and I’m secretly bummed it’s not Jason Momoa.”
“Grace,” he snarls between clenched teeth, “I need you to do me a favor.”
“Well, sure thing, boss man,” I say, knowing he probably wanted to rush this phone conversation, and I’m pushing him.
“I’m not coming in today,” he informs me, and I secretly do a little cheer that I don’t have to deal with him for the whole day. “I need you to bring me the file we were working on yesterday.”
“Bring it where?” I look around the office to see if maybe he got in before me, but the only ones really here are the PAs.
“To my house.”
“Where you live?” I ask him, shocked.
“No,” he snaps, “where I hang my Bat costume.”
“Really, you think you’re Batman material?” I pfft and roll my eyes.
“I could be Batman material.” He now sounds like he’s defending himself.
“A Ben Affleck Batman, maybe.” I shake my head. “Definitely not Val Kilmer Batman and definitely not Christian Bale.”
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” he huffs.
“Which means I’m right and you’re wrong,” I counter. “Now, what do you need again?”
“I need you to bring me the file we were working on,” he says, his voice tense, “now.”
“I don’t have your address,” I inform him, hoping he just gives up and comes to get it himself.
“I will give you the address.” My cell phone then beeps with a message from his cell phone. “I just texted you.”
“Thank God you told me that. I thought it was one of my feet clients again. You almost got a free picture,” I goad him, and he groans. “Okay, keep your panties on there. I’m leaving now.”
“Fine,” he grunts, and he’s about to hang up.
“Question. How do I deliver the file?”
“What?” he asks, confused.
“Well, is this like The Intern where I ring the bell and place it on the floor in front of the door?” I lean back in my chair, knowing he’s about to snap, like always. He has to be the most strung-out boss I’ve ever met. “Or is it like The Devil Wears Prada where I walk in, make eye contact with no one, drop it on the table, and rush out. That is unless you have twin girls who will try to steer me wrong.”
“Grace, so help me God.” If he was in front of me, I would have to try so hard to hide the big smile on my face.
“Fine, I’ll ring the bell and wait for you.” I try not to make it known I’m laughing. “Oh, wait. Do I have to tell anyone I’m leaving to come and bring you something?” I look around. “Like, should I tell Loren or Kevin?”
