A Single Touch
974 Words
The moment I stepped out of the elevator, I headed straight for the café instead of the cafeteria.
I couldn't bear the thought of running into anyone.
Especially after what had happened. No... After what I'd done.
I ordered the first thing I saw on the menu—a mortadella and cheese sandwich—and carried it to the quietest corner I could find.
My appetite had disappeared hours ago, but I forced myself to take a bite anyway.
It tasted like cardboard.
I pulled out my phone and called Claire.
She answered almost immediately.
"So..." she said, dragging out the word. "How's life after throwing yourself at your ridiculously hot boss?"
"I did not throw myself at him."
"You literally ended up in his arms."
"I tripped."
"You landed on his chest."
"I know."
"You texted me that he was a walking temptation."
"I didn't know he was going to read it!"
Claire burst into laughter.
I buried my face in one hand.
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"No..."
I sighed.
"I really don't."
"So... what happened after that?"
"He picked up my phone."
"Mhm."
"He read the message."
Claire stopped laughing.
"Oh."
"Exactly."
"Oh, Blair..."
"I know."
"No, seriously..."
She laughed again.
"I can't believe Leonard Parker actually read that."
"I wanted the ground to swallow me whole."
"I would've paid to see his face."
"He didn't even react."
"What do you mean?"
"He just looked at the screen... handed me my phone... and walked away."
Claire fell silent for a moment.
"That's worse."
"I know."
"I don't think I'd have survived."
"I'm still not sure I did."
We talked for another ten minutes before ending the call.
By then, I felt slightly better.
Not because the embarrassment had faded.
Because talking to Claire always reminded me the world hadn't ended.
Even if it felt like it had.
The afternoon dragged on at a painfully slow pace.
Laila continued treating me like I was the least competent employee in the company, assigning me every last-minute task she could think of while I reorganised meetings and answered emails almost non-stop.
Normally, I'd have rolled my eyes and ignored her.
Today...
I barely noticed.
My mind kept replaying the same scene over and over again.
His hand around my waist.
His chest against mine.
His eyes.
Those impossible blue eyes. The way he'd looked at me...
As though he'd forgotten the rest of the world existed.
No.
Don't be ridiculous.
You're imagining things.
Leonard Parker doesn't look at women like that.
Especially not women like me.
Hours slipped by unnoticed.
The office gradually emptied. The ringing phones stopped. Conversations faded. Computers shut down one after another.
Eventually, even Laila packed her bag. She didn't bother saying goodbye. Not that I expected her to.
When I finally looked up at the clock, it was already eight-thirty.
I groaned.
My neck hurt.
My shoulders ached.
My hair had completely escaped the clip I'd given up trying to fix hours earlier.
I glanced down at myself.
My blouse was wrinkled.
My skirt had creases from sitting all day.
I'd kicked off my pumps nearly an hour ago because my feet were throbbing. They now sat abandoned beneath my desk.
I wasn't doing another minute of work.
I saved my files, shut down my laptop and slipped it into my bag before grabbing my shoes.
Barefoot, I walked toward the elevators.
As I passed Mr. Parker's office, I noticed the blinds were completely closed.
He'd already gone home.
Good.
One humiliation per day was more than enough.
The cafeteria was almost deserted.
I finished the rest of my sandwich while enjoying something I rarely experienced inside Parker Wines Headquarters.
Silence.
Real silence.
No ringing phones. No conversations. No hurried footsteps. Just peace.
Exactly what I needed.
I glanced at the time. Still too early to go home. Then I remembered the company gym.
More importantly...
The showers.
A smile spread across my face.
One of the few things everyone agreed on at Parker Wines was that the employee facilities were incredible.
The locker rooms felt more like an exclusive spa than part of an office building.
A long corridor lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors led to an elegant lounge where a marble fountain stood beneath warm amber lighting. At its centre, a graceful statue of Venus poured water endlessly from her pitcher.
Private shower suites stretched along the far wall.
Each one had its own locker, vanity mirror, hairdryer and luxury toiletries.
Rainfall showers. Body jets. Soft music. Dim lighting.
Everything designed to help exhausted employees forget they worked for the most demanding CEO we will ever met.
Almost.
I walked to my locker, collected my clean clothes and smiled when I realized the room was completely empty.
Perfect.
Exactly what I needed.
I chose my favourite shower in the middle of the room and switched on every water jet.
Steam immediately began filling the cubicle.
Since I was alone, I didn't bother closing the glass door.
I hung my towel on the hook and reached for the buttons of my blouse.
For a brief moment, I stopped.
His scent.
It still lingered on the lilac silk.
Warm. Woody. Clean.
The place where he'd caught me earlier that afternoon still carried the faintest trace of his cologne.
Ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
Yet instead of throwing the blouse into the laundry bag, I folded it carefully and placed it inside my locker.
Maybe I'd wash it tomorrow.
Maybe.
I slowly undressed, letting each piece of clothing fall into the locker before stepping beneath the hot water.
A sigh escaped my lips almost instantly.
The warmth melted away every knot in my shoulders.
Every ache in my back.
Every ounce of stress from the longest day of my life.
I closed my eyes.
Finally...
I was alone.
Or so I thought.
- Writer
