The Trading Game

Chapter 5

"Hand me the land survey again," Alix orders, as he paces the floor.

"Please," I grumbled, quietly.

I dig through the files in front of me and find the one he wants.

When I locate it, I hold it up from my position on the floor and he snags it as he walks by.

Seconds later, I heard the familiar rustle of a candy wrapper and rolled my eyes.

We leave tomorrow for New York and it can't come soon enough. It’s not that Alix has pestered me about sleeping with him.

He hasn't even brought it up again. At this point, I started to think he was teasing.

Which does comfort me somewhat.

It’s just every time I hear or see him eat candy I get uncomfortable knowing that he's horny.

Not to mention what it does to my own libido, I think to myself, dipping my head lower to hide my blushing cheeks.

It doesn't help that he hasn't even tried to pick someone up and he's had two opportunities that I know of!

Last night, I came up with the perfect plan involving the hotel bar after his binge on chocolate cake at dinner. It’s not that I was stupid enough to ask him to have a drink with me. He'd see right through that and know I was up to something, nope. I casually opened my hotel door, leaving my room and walked to the elevator.

As predicted, he followed minutes later and sat next to me at the bar, watching my every move. I ignored him until he was approached by a beautiful woman in a killer dress.

I tried to slip away as he turned slightly to her initial, "Hello." but he stopped me quickly, bringing his arm around my waist and kissing my cheek.

"No." Was his only response. I pouted until I finished my drink.

Sulking even more when he refused to engage another woman in conversation, who was also clearly interested.

Then we left to go to our separate rooms, not saying a word to each other.

Now, its Friday and I have all afternoon to watch him eat his heart out, literally.

"Let’s cross reference these dates, times and shipping costs with the previous year." He says, starting to lay out spreadsheets on the table.

I stood up from my position on the floor and walked my skirt down as I walked to his desk, sitting across from him.

I started writing down and referencing the correlating facts he wanted on paper. I stop writing and start seeing red when I hear another piece of candy open. My jaw clenches and, without thinking, I lean over the desk, snatch the offensive chocolate bar out of his mouth and throw it across the room. I definitely shocked myself more than I did him.

He raises his eyebrows, looking smug and amused.

"Don't look at me like I'm the crazy one." I told him, pointing my finger at him.

"If I hear one more candy wrapper today I'm going to lose it." I threatened, still standing.

He smirks, "I think you've already lost it."

I took a deep breath. "I need you to get laid. At this point, it’s a matter of life and death," I stated, seriously.

Putting my hands flat on the desk.

"Life and death?" He smiles, sounding very interested.

"Yes. I'm going to kill you." I replied, glaring.

Holding out my thumb and index finger, showing how close I am to murder.

He stops smiling and raises an eyebrow in question, "How would you do it?"

This is the type of question only Alix would ask.

I shrugged. "I've thought of so many different ways. Push you into oncoming traffic, rat poison. My most creative and satisfying thing was shoving a candy bar down your throat." I answered, honestly.

"So dark." He replies, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"You have no idea."

"I don't want to have sex." He states, simply.

I threw my hands up in frustration and sat down.

"You're joking, right? You've been through at least 4 candy bars today." I pointed out, annoyed.

"Let me rephrase. I don't just want to have s*x with just anyone. I want to have s*x with you." He clarifies.

My eyes narrow. Of course he does. Alix loves a challenge and prefers conveyance.

"You're just being difficult. We've been through this, it’s not going to happen. Now, let's find you someone more...accommodating." I suggest, not phased by his statement.

"Have you thought about it?" He asks, not willing to move on from the conversation.

"Yes! All week! Now, I think maybe I've been going about it all wrong. You obviously have a preference. What is the usual type of woman you choose?" I asked, sitting down and clicking my pen, posed to write it all down on my notepad.

"You know what I meant," he stated, calmly.

I shrug, "I'm choosing not to respond to it, because you know the answer. Now, let’s move on to type. What hair color do you prefer?"

When he doesn't reply, I move on.

"How about certain womanly measurements? I bet you're a boob guy, you look like a boob guy." I teased.

"200 thousand." He states.

"No." I replied, firmly.

"250."

Again, I shook my head, no.

"I'm going to get you one way or another." He says, sounding downright ominous.

"I'm not a company looking for a buyout, Alix." I pointed out, glancing back down at my notes. I got nothing.

I hear the rustle of a candy-wrapper, I groan and drop my head on the desk.

"300." He comments.

"Kill me." I replied, sitting up and pushing away the attempted list from my mind and getting back to work.

The plane lands and I gather my purse and briefcase. I'm excited to be home but irritable because I haven't gotten any sleep. Alix insisted on working late into the night perfecting and fine-tuning budget proposals and expansion plans.

"You're tired." He noticed.

"Yeah, that's what happens when your boss makes you work late," I snapped.

He smirks. "And feisty, 350."

I roll my eyes at his teasing and don't respond. "I need to stop and get a gift." I say, offhandedly.

"You haven't gotten her anything?" He asks, surprised.

"I haven't had time," I stated, defensively.

"I can add your name to what I got her." He offers.

I looked up shocked, "You got my niece a gift?"

He nods, and we walk down the aisle of the plane to deboard, smiling and thanking the pilot and stewardess.

"What did you get her?" I asked, when we got to the waiting car.

"A card with some cash." He says, opening the car door for me.

"Cash? She's 4. I replied, then thought of Alix's definition of some cash.

"How much did you give her?" I asked, suspiciously.

"5 grand."

My mouth drops. "You're joking."

"I figured that was enough for her to get whatever she wanted." He shrugs.

I laugh, he has no idea how much a simple toy costs.

"You cannot give a child that much money! Are you crazy?'’

"Too much?" He asks, confused.

I scoffed. "Yes, we're stopping for a gift. We're not giving her cash."