The Ceo Son

8

Britt didn’t get any more emails from Jack, the guitarist, but he was in her thoughts, her dreams. She woke up often, breathing hard, remembering. She stopped wanting him so much during the day. The madness receded. She figured it had just been a natural derangement following the best s*x ever. Probably most people acted goofy after an amazing hookup, but they were, in all fairness, in college and not her age, not just some staid accountant who’d never been laid like that before. For days, she put it out of her mind during the day, only to have fragments of her hook up appear in her dreams. She couldn’t explain away his eyes, the blue so deep it was almost black. She couldn’t get past the way he’d looked at her, treated her like she wasn’t a one off, like she was someone who mattered to him. Britt couldn’t believe she was so insecure that one night with a guy who was fairly nice to her left her with days of besotted hangover. She was slowly but surely developing a crush on a man whose email she deleted, whose interest she’d refused. He wasn’t right for her, she knew. He was just a hell of a lot of fun, and fun had been missing from her life for a long time.

She stopped by Marj’s desk one afternoon.

“Babe, you look like s**t, what’s wrong?” Marj asked.

“I’m pining. I am PINING AWAY for the guy I hooked up with. That’s what’s wrong. I can’t eat, as in I don’t get hungry. Unless I see donuts like this morning, then I eat like three. But I can’t eat normally. I’m not sleeping unless you count s*x dreams that are just exhausting at this point...what can I do, Marj?”

“You’re a hot mess today. I think you need to hydrate. Here, have some water,” she handed Britt a bottle of water and Britt obediently drank from it.

“That didn’t help. I still want to find out his number and text him.”

“So do it. Who says a one-nighter can’t turn into a relationship?”

“I don’t want a relationship with some slacker guitarist who picks up girls.”

“So why would you text him. I thought you were hung up on him.”

“I’m not hung up on him. I want him to restore my sanity.”

“Did he steal it?”

“Yes. He was too good in bed. I’ve never slept with anyone and been distracted by remembering it afterward.”

“You’ve been with the wrong guys, then,” Marj observed.

“Probably, but the point is now I have this, I don’t know, s*x drive that I never knew I had. I want him. Again. And again and again.”

Marj laughed.

“Oh, honey. Maybe join a gym.”

“That isn’t going to give me the kind of endorphins I want.”

“I meant maybe you can hook up with a hot guy from the gym,” Marj joked.

“You’re not exactly helping. I need to refocus on my work and catch up on my voicemails and, I don’t know, clean out my closet.”

“Get rid of that ugly shirt you have on. You’re not seventy years old, Britt. Stop dressing like it.”

“I have the one sexy dress and just look at the trouble that got me into. I’m mentally undressing the UPS guy now, I swear.”

“He has nice legs.”

“He’s bald!”

“Okay, point taken. Thing is, Britt, if you want to get laid, go get laid. If you want to get over him, then do that. But make up your damn mind! You can’t divide your focus between wanting him and whining about why you don’t want him.”

“You should maybe not become a therapist. That was mean.”

“No, it was true!” Marj insisted. “You’re all oh-I-am-so-ashamed and then the next thing you’re pounding donuts and fantasizing about any man who walks by. Good thing Freeman’s out of the office today or you might take the creep up on it.”

“I’m not that far gone. Thanks for the water and the tough love. I’m going to go pee now.”

“At least all that water gave you something else to think about,” Marj replied.

The retirement day dawned, and she put a scarf on with her button-down as a tribute to the festive mood. In eight short hours, Freeman would be gone, and his reign of chauvinistic groping would be over. She arrived at work more cheerful than she’d been in days. She churned out spreadsheets and double-checked numbers. She updated the business deductions file. When two o’clock came, time for the party, she was beyond ready. In the conference room of their firm, they came together with two-liters of lukewarm soda, plastic cups, a sheet cake and what appeared to be leftover Christmas paper plates. When Marj called for a knife to cut the cake, a surprising number of female employees announced that they had one in their desk drawers, and they all laughed except for Freeman who failed to get the humor.

He made a windy speech about his time at the firm and how he’d come to care about all of them as family. Then he accepted his cuff links, said thanks and announced he was going to introduce Phillip Fitzsimmons, the new chief operating officer.

“Phil is slowing down from his days heading up the FZ Communications conglomerate, and wanted a new challenge...a boutique consulting firm he can steer into the big time the way he turned his company into a multinational force. With him, he brings his youngest son to add his graphic design talent to our marketing team. Please join me in welcoming Phil Fitzsimmons and his son Jack.”

Everyone clapped except Britt who knew instinctively that no matter how common the name Jack was, it was destined to be the one Jack she didn’t want to see again, the one she dreamed about at night and who had the potential to screw up her professional life the same way he’d invaded her fantasies. There he was, in a suit and tie, no faded tight jeans and button down. His hair was slicked back and he looked like any other suit, a little more handsome perhaps. Okay, confession time. He looked so damn hot!

Jack.

Oh my gosh!

Her heart was beating a million miles a minute. What were the chances she’d run into him again? This was like something out of a Lifetime movie. And out of all the places to run into him, why work?

His dad gave a speech about how his doctors told him he had to cut back on his work, but he was bored at the golf course, so he took on this new project.

The whole time, Britt stared at Jack. There he was, the man who had sent her over the edge with only his fingers, who had kissed her mouth until she forgot who she was. A man she would now have to work with. Their company only had one floor of the building. She was bound to run into him. Right then, she resolved to give up coffee, so she didn’t have to go in the break room. She’d bring a bottle of water from home. It would be fine. Marj worked in marketing. She’d have to stop visiting Marj’s cubicle. There went what passed for her social life. She groaned.

“You okay?” Marj whispered. Britt nodded, eyes wide, trained on Jack, never swerving for a second.

“Got a crush on the new guy?”

“No, he just reminds me of a guy I knew in school.” Britt lied, never taking her eyes off of him. Those dark blue eyes, the long fingers, the bit of dark hair on his wrists and hands that sent her licking her lips. It was sensory overload. She was afraid she’d fling herself at him and beg. So she pretended he reminded her of a classmate, tried to appear detached.

/> “Nobody I went to school with looked like that. Bunch of losers doing keg stands,” Marj snorted. Britt nodded without bothering to laugh. She was too focused on him.