Rated R, NSFW
Read previous chapters or from the start here: Blythe and Mac’s story
Pink Silk Ribbon
I promised Lawrence a full play by play (mostly) if he brought wine by later. He agreed since Kevin was out town until tomorrow on business and he didn’t like staying home alone.
I hunkered down at my desk and didn’t even realize it was time to leave until Elisa tapped me on the shoulder. I copied my files to my laptop and rushed home to finish the rough draft and source out the lighting. I had an idea and the entire project hinged on the lighting. Part of me wanted to get as much done before Seagate found out I pissed off the client.
All afternoon I expected to be called to his office and given the proverbial axe. Regret and doubt were my new best friends. What if I simply played along and sought advice about what to do about him later? What if I didn’t listen in and betray their privacy? My mom always said no good comes from listening when not invited. This is why I don’t break rules. Usually.
I worked as fast as I could so that if I was fired at least maybe my idea might still come to be. Maybe. That’s if Mac even wanted to bother with it. He was so impulsive who knew what he would do. I certainly didn’t. When I was satisfied with my idea layout, I sent it to Clancy so he could proof it and forward it to Tom as per the protocol.
Lawrence came over and we snuggled on the couch drinking a lovely fruity white as I told him everything minus how incredible the one little kiss had been. By the time I was done with the story he saw things differently than I had.
“I’m so proud of you.” Lawrence kissed my cheek. “Jill would have been blowing him in the john before the food was served. Good for you for having morals.”
“Some measuring stick.”
“Hell I would have been blowing him in the john before the food was served. That man is the whole package.”
I sighed. “I know. Though Tom killed the romance of the whole thing with his Slum if you have to comment.”
“Ah what does he know Bly baby? If you ask me, your luck didn’t run out. It’s a good thing you heard what you did. Save yourself the heartache.”
We watched an old black and white classic. Lawrence crashed on my couch and was in my shower when I woke up. He had spare clothes in my closet since this happened often. I was heading out the door for my jog when he came out.
“I’ll see you at the office honey.”
“All right dear.” I giggled and took off down the stairs.
My run went the same as it had yesterday only shorter so I could take the edge off before I went to work. After yesterday’s events and last night’s wine, I was worked up and I’d fallen asleep before I got around to it. I don’t mind being horny but I didn’t want to spend another day with my mind wandering down between my legs.
When I got to my door, I saw a black box wrapped with pink silk ribbon and a small card. “What?” I picked up the card it simply said my name scrawled in the nicest and prettiest handwriting I’ve ever seen. I picked up the box, shook it, shrugged and went into my apartment.
I set the box down and pulled the string after wiping sweat from my brow. The lid lifted easily and another card sat on top of pink tissue paper. I picked it up and in the same beautiful writing was written; ‘Sorry about your shoe, my restaurant, my fault. Please accept these replacements. -M’ I hastily pulled back the tissue.
Nestled in the tissue were a pair of Jimmy Choo nude printed leather glitter round-toe pumps. I could have drooled. I actually might have. They were gorgeous and my size. I was planning on wearing my navy blue Capri suit with a bright magenta top and sadly these were perfect. I picked one up and caressed the texture of the print. They were of course my size.
I’m not an idiot nor one of those romance novel damsels who will refuse a gift out of modesty or whatever feminist-I’m-above-gifts moral point they’re trying to prove. I ruined my favorite pumps at Mac’s hideous restaurant and he’s replaced them. With nicer ones and I’m not about to say no to prove a non-existent point. Besides my dad would be livid if I refused an honest gift. That and they are Jimmy freaking Choo’s.
I don’t know how long I stood there admiring the pieces of art, but I ended up rushing to shower, dress and groom myself. Once again, I looked amazing. I ran my hands through my newly blow-dried straight brown hair, grabbed my purse, slipped into my new shoes and went to see if I was still employed or not.
For the record, I felt like a million bucks walking into the office, despite my secret fear. As went around the corner to my cubicle I nearly puked. There was a cardboard banker’s box on my desk. The kind you get when you’re… “Shit. Shit. Shit.” I whispered the word and forced my gorgeously clad foot forward.
“Ah there you are Miss Parks.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin when Mr. Seagate came out of nowhere. Well to me he had, all I could see was my future being tossed into a cardboard box.
“Good morning Mr. Seagate.” I gave myself a mental high five for not sounding like I was about to throw up and cry. I was precariously close to both actions.
He cleared his throat. “I would like you to have your things cleared from your desk within the hour.”
At least I looked good, feeling good, not so much. “Yes sir.” I threw up in my mouth a little.
To be continued…
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