As 4pm rolls around, I'm already filing away Stacy's mounds of documents, then jotting down a memo for myself of all the things I need to get done over the weekend. Being an assistant wasn't exactly what I had planned after graduating college with a degree in Art, but when Smith Studios closed ...the job I had lined up went with it. Working for Stacy Ward isn't all too bad, and it's a means to an end for the time being.
"Amelia?"
I look up from my desk to see Stacy powering down her computer. I quickly finish writing out my sticky note, slap it onto my planner, and make my way through her glass office doors with my company iPad. I take a seat into one of her cream colored leather chairs, opposite of her.
"I know it's only fifteen past, but I thought we could get an early start to our weekend. So with that said, shall we go over next week's schedule?" I nod with my stylus and iPad in hand. She gives me a bright smile before pulling out her own tablet and continuing. Next week seems to be busier than the last two, but it doesn't surprise me. Stacy is a very successful employee here at Linden Ad Co., a well established advertisement firm. She's also done this for a long time, which gives her experience and making her a damn good bet in this sort of business.
I continue taking notes on upcoming projects and filling in her appointments. Every now and then I look up and see her slowly pacing behind her large executive chair as she gives me important information on certain clientele. For a woman in her late thirties and two kids, Stacy has a killer bod. Tall, lean, and curves in all the right places. A sleek blonde bob frames her face, and bright blue eyes finishing off her modern Barbie look. Though, I do have to admit that I've got her beat when it comes to being stacked. That's due to my mother being Brazilian. Because of her not only am I well endowed in the breast department, but also naturally tan, set with big hazel eyes, pouty lips, and a backside that puts Beyonce's song, 'Bootylicious', to justice. The only thing I got from my father's Germanic blood was his height. I stand at a good five feet seven inches, while my poor mother barely tops five-one.
I stride back to my desk a half hour later. As I'm gathering my things, Stacy locks up her office, and then passes by me with a friendly wave. "Have a good weekend" I yell behind her. I really do enjoy working for her.
Ok, computer off ....planner, iPad, and cell phone.
I'm mentally marking through my list to make sure I don't leave anything behind, when I notice Adam Price walk into his office. My eager eyes follow and watch him speak casually to a fellow colleague. This man can make every female in the building swoon on their feet with his boyish charm; me being no exception. I can't hear what they're talking about through the glass sectioning of his office, but I hold my stare as he removes his hand from the pocket of his fitted gray suit to shake hands with the other male. Adam's head slightly tilts back when they say their goodbyes on a laugh. A full megawatt smile with dimples on this fine man is all it takes to have me clenching my thighs together.
Oh, the things I'd let him do to me.
I watch him move with ease as he rounds the corner of his desk and sits into his chair. The chair is the same leather chair Stacy has in her office, but it looks ultimately smaller with his large sculpted frame leaned into it. I feel the sudden urge to straddle him in that chair and smash my lips down onto his, all the while running my fingers through his thick black hair to keep him under me. At the moment I wouldn't even care that we would be on full display to everyone on the floor with the lack of real material for office walls and doors.
I feel my panties becoming moist with the onslaught of heat my daydream is bringing between my thighs. Biting down on the inside of my cheek to prevent a moan from escaping, I take a deep breath of the cool air in the building to steady my pulse. Pulling myself back from my fantasy, I watch Adam talking on his cell with his brows slightly knit together in concentration.
"I don't see why you haven't given him your number already. You've been drooling from across the hall for the last six weeks."
Without looking away, I know its Rebecca who is perched up on my desk. She has fast become a good friend of mine since I started working here. She's helped fill me in on all the ins-and-outs of the company: where to eat, the quiet hiding spots when you need a second to yourself, who to trust, and who to steer clear of. She's especially filled me in on Adam Price. He's worked for Linden since he was twenty-two, and in the short seven years that he's worked here, he has definitely made a name for himself -- not only within the company but along with the women as well. Rebecca would know ...she's his assistant.
"Becca, what are wearing tomorrow night?" I ask looking at her flip through my planner, as I blatantly ignore her comment. Becca, the nickname she insisted I call her by, slips my planner back into my purse and slides off the edge of my desk; now only leaning into it with her equally as plump behind. The full ear-to-ear grin that appears on her porcelain face tells me she's planning to go all out. "I found the hottest black baby doll dress yesterday, and I plan to pair it off with my six inch white Channel pumps." She continues on about her accessories, while I try to figure out my own ensemble. I give up trying to imagine all the clothes I own, and decide to stop by the mall on my drive home instead. Apparently Ben from the third floor throws the "best parties."
"Lia, do not show up in church clothes. You have one amazing body and you need to flaunt it!" Lia being a nickname she insisted on using for
me
. She just has a way of making everything seem so easy and carefree, which is something I loved about her from day one.
"Alright, I'll dress up too then." I laugh while putting my hands up in a surrender motion. "I'm actually done for the day and was just heading out to pick up an outfit for the party."
