*Author's Note:
For those who have read my first submission, this one involves the same characters; however, it would take place at least a year prior to that story. Also, this one is a lot more story driven than "Mark's Surprise".
Again, comments and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy.
***
I return to work on Monday with dread. As great as the conference in Vegas was, and the days home with Mark after, I know all the work from the past week would be piled on my desk. Sometimes I wondered if taking time off work was worth it.
As I boot up my computer to see how many emails I need to go through, my phone rings. I look at it, confused and angry. I'm not supposed to be back until tomorrow, who could be calling? I answer on the third ring, "hello?"
"Ah, Nicole," Thomas, the head of our HR department, says through the phone, "I thought I saw your car outside. Could you come down here for a moment?" I should start taking a cab to work.
I groan inwardly. The last thing I want to do first thing on a Monday morning is go see Thomas. Especially a Monday where work is piled on my desk, I'm supposed to be still off, and I had an argument with him last time I was in the office. "Yeah," I say, "I'm on my way."
I walk down the flight of stairs, muttering to myself, annoyed at the fact that I was already being interrupted. It was going to be one of those days where I get nothing accomplished. I can just feel it. So much for coming in for an hour or two just to get a jump on things.
I walk into Thomas's office and stop short. To my great surprise I see the tanned skin and blond curly hair I became familiar with in Vegas. Thankfully, Katrina looks equally surprised to see me.
"Nicole, meet your new assistant Katrina. We hired her while you were off, since you were so adamant that you need one," Thomas says, completely oblivious to the shock on both our faces. I've never been more thankful for his lack of observation skills. Thomas continues, "She does have some experience in inventory management, so training her should be quick and easy."
"You hired me an assistant without involving me in the hiring process?" I ask, tearing my eyes away from Katrina and focusing on Thomas.
Thomas shrugged, "You said you needed one ASAP. In fact I believe your exact words were 'if I don't have an assistant by the time I'm back from Vegas, I'm fucking out of here'. So, here's your assistant. Don't worry Nicole. She's great, you're going to love her."
Katrina smiles at him, "I'm sure she will." With that Thomas waves his hand in dismissal.
I look back to Katrina, "follow me."
"Absolutely boss," Katrina says.
I lead Katrina back up the stairs in silence. How is this my new assistant? It was supposed to be one night, then I never see her again. That's how these things are supposed to go. That's what a fling is. She's not supposed to become a part of my life. I most certainly am not supposed to become her boss.
Upstairs I am greeted by James, a member of our IT department. "Hey Nicole," he says smiling right past me at Katrina, his eyes slowly shifting down as he takes in her curves ending at her long alluring legs. "I'm here to set up your new girl. New cubicle has been added, very close to your office. Computer was just brought up. It's going to take me about an hour, so you have some time to get her acquainted."
"That sounds great," Katrina says from behind me, "it would be nice to get acquainted boss." I resist biting my lip. That needs to stop. I'm not sure what it is; but, I can't have her keep calling me boss.
"Thank you James," I say, and I motion Katrina into my office. As we enter I continue, "I'm not sure what exactly you were told about the job. Primarily, I will need you to answer the phone, track down late deliveries, and run several reports for me." I sit in my chair and motion for Katrina to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. "Once you have that down we will see about adding additional responsibilities."
Katrina sits in the chair and leans on her arms, giving me a view of her cleavage. She raises an eyebrow. "Are we not going to talk about ..."
"Be quiet," I harshly whisper, forcing myself to look at her gorgeous face, "these walls are paper thin. Vegas didn't happen, do you understand? I can't have anyone finding out about that."
"Why didn't you say anything? Tell them not me or something?" Katrina whispers back with a smile.
"What would I say?" my voice still harsh despite the whisper, "I desperately need an assistant; oh, but not her. Why not? Good question. Um, because I FUCKED her while on a company paid trip. I don't have a leg to stand on for refusing you. Not after I fought for an assistant. So now, I am your boss, and you answer my phone. And we never speak of Vegas. In fact, we met 10 minutes ago. Understand?"
Katrina smiles sweetly, twirling her hair around her index finger, "whatever you say boss."
I open my mouth to demand that she drops the whole 'boss' thing; but, can't seem to find the appropriate words. I don't think my day can get any worse.
I spend the next hour showing Katrina our computer system, where to find current inventory levels on hand, what's expected to come in and when, etc. I show her how to run the reports I will need and I take her through the rough flow of our inventory. I am surprised at how quickly she seems to pick it up and at how thorough her notes are.
James knocks and peaks his head in. "All set up. You're ready to go Katrina."
"Her email is set up?" I ask.
"Sure is," he says, still looking at Katrina.
I look at Katrina, "Go and log in to your computer and get comfortable with it. I am going to go through my emails, then leave as I'm not supposed to be here today. I'm sure I'll forward enough of them to you to keep you busy for today."
"You got it boss," Katrina says, jumping up and following James out. I catch myself staring at her swaying hips as she leaves and mentally chastise myself.
I really need to request that she stops calling me boss. Something about the way she says it sends my head spinning.
***
Katrina settled into her new role with ease. Just two weeks on the job and she's handling enough of my workload that I can actually start looking into alternative suppliers and other cost saving ideas.
She is also amazing with the staff, going out of her way to help others and learn items well outside her job description. I think she has made friends with every single person on staff. Absolutely everyone seems to love her.
Unfortunately, working with the woman hasn't become any easier. I constantly need to stop myself from staring at her, and I know I take any excuse to call her into my office. My head swims when she is around and I loose my focus too often.
I was in my own mind, trying not to think of that night in Vegas, when Katrina walks into my office. I snap out of it, and look up at her.
"Mail call, boss" Katrina says, placing three manilla envelopes into my inbox.
"Thank you Katrina," I say. I try yet again to request that she does not refer to me as boss; but, yet again the words will not pass my lips.
"You probably should know a delivery of fabric is running late; however, I am on it. I've been assured that it will be here by 4. It will cause a minor delay in production; but, I've already checked and the shirts will still be delivered to the customer on time," Katrina says
"Good work," I nod, staring at Katrina's soft lips. I find myself drawn to them, wanting to kiss them. I blink, making myself focus. "Anything else I should know?"
Katrina shakes her head, shaking her blonde locks around her face, "not that I can think of boss." I picture myself running my fingers through that hair.
"Thank you. Dismissed," I say. Katrina turns on her heel and walks out. Once she closes the door behind her I let out a sigh and put my head in my hands. "Pull yourself together Nicole. It can't happen. It was one night, period. Think of Mark."
I shake my head and lift it out of my hands. I sigh again, and turn my attention to the envelopes Katrina brought in. I pick up the first manilla envelope and open it. Literature from a new company, looking to obtain us as a customer. I look at the price list and make a note for Katrina to obtain samples from them.
I open the second manilla envelope. It's a statement of apparent overdue invoices. I stick it back in the envelope and write Ruth on it. I'll have Katrina take it over to accounting. On second thought, I'll take it over to accounting and ask Ruth about the unpaid invoices.
I grab the third envelope and feel that there are fabric samples inside. I notice that the front does not have our address on it, nor any stamps. Samples that were dropped off maybe. I open the envelope and am distracted by the faint smell of sex. Damn it. I really need to get a grip on my daydreaming if it's going to have that strong of an effect on me. I turn the envelope over so the samples fall out on my desk.
I gasp and stare at the contents of envelope now on my desk, the smell I thought was me now overpowering. It can't be. She wouldn't. I pick up the cloth and verify that is in fact the dark purple panties that Katrina was wearing that night in Vegas. It is also the source of the smell. I close my eyes as my hand subconsciously caresses my inner leg, pushing my knee length skirt up.
The door to my office opens, and I quickly shove the panties between my own legs. I smile and look up just as the general manager walks in. "Hey Richard," I say, hoping I am keeping my composure. I can now feel that Katrina's panties between my legs are still wet, causing more than small trickle onto my own.
"Hello Nicole" he replies, taking a seat in the chair across my desk. Why is he sitting? No, no, no. This is bad. "How is Katrina working out?"
I feel my panties get a little wetter at the mention of her name. "She's great," I answer quickly, praying my voice is level, "Picks things up quickly, goes out of her way to help others, and shows initiative. Absolutely nothing I could complain about." Please leave. You need to go.
"Nicole," Richard says, getting a concerned look on his face, "are you feeling okay?"
"I am feeling a little off; but, I'm sure I'm fine," I bluff.
Richard gives me a skeptical look before saying, "if you're sure; but, if you're not feeling well perhaps you should go home. Please do if it gets any worse."
"Absolutely," I smile, "if it gets worse, I'll be sure to let you know." Richard smiles at me, then gets up and walks out.