In His Service

assisting

"Virginia, get Patrick Shikai back on the phone and transfer the call to me immediately. Then I need you to go through these reports from the last three months and see if there are any areas we can reduce loss by at least 5%. Also, have you made my reservation at DiSano's for that business lunch I have scheduled for tomorrow?"

I spun my desk chair around to dial the number as I answered Derek. 

"Yes sir, your reservation is made for 7 pm like you asked." I paused to wait for the call to connect, told Patrick Shikai's office who was calling, and put the phone on hold until Derek was ready to answer it. 

"And I looked through your reports for the last six months earlier when I had some free time. I'd be happy to share my thoughts about where you can cut a few costs."

Spinning back around to my computer, I continued typing the press release I had been drafting. I could feel Derek's stare on the back of my neck, so I stopped and slowly spun back to face him again.

It was my third day working in his office building downtown, and so far my job had been busy, but not at all difficult. I had the sneaking suspicion he was trying to test me, though.

"Yes, sir?" I asked sweetly, gathering my hair over one shoulder to expose the deep neckline of my slim-fitting, pewter gray dress. Derek's eyes sank from my face, skimmed over my neck, and settled on my cleavage where they stared hungrily. 

In my multitude of positions in the hospitality industry, I was used to men staring at my body, attempting to use their positions as a bartering tool for me to succumb to their whims. It had always made me feel varying degrees of disgust, but this was different.  

Warmth pooled in my center as I realized with Derek, it made me feel empowered. When he didn't say anything I added in a purr, "If there's nothing else you need from me, Patrick Shikai is waiting on line 3."

Derek's eyes widened, and he gave a mechanical jerk as he remembered the phone call he had requested, and he shook his head 'no' to my question before disappearing into his office, which was connected to mine. I sighed and propped my elbows on the sleek glass desk, glancing at my to-do list. So far it consisted of drafting emails and press releases, managing vendors and suppliers for his multiple restaurants and clubs, plus the ranch, and fielding calls. Easy peasy. 

My eyes drifted into Derek's office where they found him kicked back in his leather desk chair, a stack of papers in his hand and the phone tucked between his neck and shoulder. He looked powerful and in control in a pair of designer slacks and a button-down shirt, with a tie loosened at his neck. His dark hair had been freshly cut, short on the sides and longer on top, just enough to run my fingers through it and give it a tug. 

Teeth on my lips caught my attention with a nip, and I startled. I had been biting my own lip seductively and hadn't even realized. Glad no one saw that. Oh...

No sooner than the thought materialized in my head, it dissipated in  a puff of embarrassment as my gaze landed on the figure sitting across from me at a desk identical to my own. 

A compact, trim body, clad in pristine white slacks and a pastel yellow shirt, with a quaff of strawberry blonde hair and a look of glee on his face, Martin, the office receptionist, stood watching me, watching the boss. 

I held his gaze defiantly for a moment, but when he waggled his eyebrows at me suggestively I let out an exasperated huff and dropped my forehead into my hands. I could feel my face growing crimson. 

Since I had started in the office a few days ago, Martin and I had quickly bonded. He was flamboyantly gay, which I loved, and I also loved that Derek and the other bosses were confident and secure enough in their manhood to work closely with him. Martin, of course, was furiously jealous of me and my position, but only because I got to spend so much time with Derek and the guys, whereas Martin was usually strapped to his desk, directing the calls that came in continuously. 

He had been at lunch earlier when Derek was talking to me, so I had been spared his constant suggestive comments and innuendos. No one else in the company knew the extent of my job description yet (they would, undoubtedly, find out eventually if I chose to stay in the position long term, but until then we were being very discreet about the whole thing), so Martin felt he had a sister-in-arms to chat about our hottie superiors. 

Which he did. Constantly. At first it had been awkward, especially when Derek would walk into the room in the middle of one of Martin's very detailed fantasies, but it didn't seem to phase Martin in the slightest bit, and Derek kept his professional demeanor at all times when we were in this building, so I had quickly adapted. Sex fantasies and innuendos were now a part of my daily routine. 

Honestly, it helped me ease into the position a little more. No need being a prude just when hearing about sex with the boss, if soon I would be expected to act on it. 

Still, I had slipped up thinking that he would take his full hour lunch and allow me a moment to fantasize about Derek without him. And now that I had been caught red-handed, gazing into the office and biting my lip as my legs pressed together with need below my glass-top desk, Martin knew he wasn't the only one who was totally affected by Derek's looks, power, wealth, and commanding presence. 

My hair hung around my face in curtains, hiding me from Martin's eagle-eyes, but I still felt the burn of my blush as I whisper-yelled, "Martin, you sneaky little mole, what are you doing back from lunch?"

"Watching you go into heat at the sight of our boss in those delicious sharkskin slacks," Martin answered simply, slurping his meal-replacement shake through the straw as his eyebrows continued their ridiculous dance over his long nose. The noise made me grate my teeth in irritation. 

Dragging my head up off my hands, a comeback ready to roll off my tongue, I sucked it back in as the entry door opened, allowing more than six feet of solid, caramel colored muscle to come strolling idly through the door. 

Martin's slurping stopped abruptly, followed by a cough and wheezing sound as his liquid lunch caught in his throat at the sight of Jake's form. I spared an eyeroll for him once I knew he didn't need the Heimlich, and then focused all my attention on Jake. 

"Hey beautiful," he drawled in that deep resonating voice of his as he made his way to my desk and stopped directly in front of me, his broad shoulders and thick arms blocking Martin's sputtering from my sight. "You free for lunch?"