It's 11:25 on Monday, and I haven't talked to Ella since she got into the Uber I called to get her home on Friday morning. I wanted to. I wanted to stand next to her desk and wait for her keys to stop gently cracking when she noticed me. I wanted to ask her what she was working on or what she was going to do on the weekend or just say hi and see a smile flare in her eyes. I wanted to say so many things to her, but I knew I couldn't or I'd find myself grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her into my office so we could repeat what we'd done until both of us were spent and sated, and Jules from HR was banging down my door in outrage.
Instead, I spent the past three days putting a plan in motion. One that will let me do what I said I would tonight. It's a plan that will give Ella a chance to see how much I respect her. She'll have a choice that I know she's never going to have at our company, even with the promotion. She'll have a chance to use all of those amazing skills of hers to be more than a particularly talented cog in a corporate machine. And if she doesn't want that choice, I'll show her the letter of resignation I have in the drafts folder of my email, ready to send at her command.
Last night, once I made sure everything was in place, I texted Ella for the first time since Friday. Meet me at the place where you swore off heels 'for good, or at least until they became less of a fucking trip hazard'. Wear that grey skirt with the pleats and your pink silk blouse. You know the one. Heels optional.
After what felt like hours but was actually less than 15 minutes, she texted back a single word. Okay. Okay.
My lungs ache and my heart is trying not to stutter as I wait next to a wide, open staircase that looks out at an urban greenspace through three story floor to ceiling windows. I stare at pink flowered trees instead of glancing back at the lobby or down at my phone, trying to calm my breathing.
At 11:29 Ella walks through big glass doors and climbs the half flight of stairs. She looks incredible in the skirt and blouse I told her to wear, the skirt clinging to her generous ass and hips before flaring out slightly into wide folds that reach just above her knees. The silk of her button up blouse is just opaque enough not to be sheer, the right balance of tasteful and sexy. I want to dart over and kiss her hard, feel her melt into me and my demanding tongue. I want to grab her ass and claim her body the way I did a few days ago. I want so many things when it comes to Ella. I want everything.
She crosses the polished granite floor, her knee high, wedge heeled boots clacking just slightly on the stone. She's stunning, and I'm not the only one to notice. A few people sitting at the cafe tables nearby stare at her as she approaches me. I smile, all the giddy energy that has me tapping my foot and fiddling with the cuffs of my crisp dark grey dress shirt fading into a slightly nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach. Ella's sparkly blue eyes meet my brown ones and for a moment everything fades out around us. A tiny smile curves on her lips as she takes the last few steps to where I stand.
Before I can say a word she asks, "Why so cryptic about the location?"
"It wasn't cryptic." I reply with a laugh. "I just wanted to see if you remembered. It was the first time I got to talk to you outside of work."
"It was the first time you touched me, too. I nearly fell up the stairs and you caught me." Ella throws back. She frowns in thought, then adds, "There was static. I felt the shock on my arm for the rest of the party."
"Me too," I murmured.
She stares at me for a second and then shakes her head. "Why are we here, Noah?"
I take a deep, centering breath and ask, "Where do you see yourself in five years, Ella? Where would you work? What would you do?"
"You know that already." Ella replies, irritation starting to color her voice. "I know you've heard me talking about it with Rhea and Tony and the rest of the team."
"I do know," I smile again, letting out some of the excitement that's been building since she walked through the door. "I want to hear you say it. Tell me about this dream of yours."
"Fine." She takes a deep breath and begins, "I'm leading the logistics team at a place that's just getting started. I'll be building something alongside great people who love what they do." Ella pauses and her eyes dart up to mine before slipping to the floor. In a much quieter voice she adds, "I'm not worried about what people think of me. I know I'm good enough to do the job. I know my own worth."
It hurts like a thorn piercing my heart to hear her say that last part and to know I contributed to making her feel that way. I rest a hand on her cheek, coaxing her head up so that she's looking in my eyes and command, "Don't you dare ever think that you're anything other than amazing."
A small smile, the secret one that goes straight to my cock, curls on her lips. She asks cheekily, "Are you going to spank me if I do?"
"For such naughty thoughts? Of course I will." I reach out to take her by the wrist with a firm grip and pull her up the first few steps.
Once we move, the intimacy of the moment is broken. She pierces me with an irritated glare. "Are you going to tell me what that has to do with us being here."
"We're meeting a friend of mine for lunch." I reveal. "Margot Kinkaid."
Ella stops as her whole body twists into a tight, compressed, coil. "Margot...Margot fucking Kinkaid is a friend of yours?! And you're just mentioning this now?"