Strange, I think as I watch Felicity disappear behind the elevator doors. I feel like the woman I've just spoken to is completely different from the one I've been working closely with for the past two years.
It's not just because Felicity looked different. I've only ever seen her in stiff dresses or colored silk blouses and tight-fitting skirts, but tonight she was wearing pants and a white top that seemed to hang from her shoulders. The topmost button was left undone, too, and though her cleavage remained concealed, I could see her black bra through the thin fabric. I had to keep myself from staring at it, in fact. Then there's her hair.
Apart from that first time I met her, I've always seen her with her cappuccino mane all combed back and tied up, which is attractive enough, but nothing compared to when she has her hair down. There's just something sensual about a woman whose shiny locks are flowing freely past her shoulders, like they're inviting me to run my fingers through them. I nearly did. I wanted to make even more of a mess of them.
That's the thing. Tonight, Felicity was a mess. Well, not really a mess, but she didn't look as organized or composed as she usually is. It made me realize how hard she's been working. I know she works hard, but to go through the trouble of making it look easy? I don't give her enough credit.
I admire her even more now, but at the same time, I want to see more of this side of her. This unguarded, innocent, disoriented Felicity. I want to mess her up even more and then hold her and tell her everything will be alright. I want to be the one to pick up her scattered pieces and put them all back in place. I want to pamper her and protect her.
I want her. I always have, but this is different. I want her so badly my chest feels like a ton of steel.
But nothing has changed.
Felicity is still my assistant and I'm still her boss. The line between us may have been blurred earlier, but it's there and I still can't cross it, though God knows I just had to summon every ounce of self-control I had in me not to.
Fuck.
I slam my palms on top of her desk in frustration. The pen holder and the pad of sticky notes bounce. The pile of papers fans out.
As I fix it, I notice the leather-bound notebook hidden beneath and my curiosity gets piqued.
What's this? Her own planner? A phone book? Or maybe it's her personal collection of affirmations and inspirational quotes that help her get through each day. My grandmother used to have one.
Whatever it is, it can't be that private if Felicity left it on desk. I'm just going to take a peek. Just a peek.
I open the book to a random page and find it filled with handwritten lines. I read.
Entry 4.5: I can't go to sleep. I'm grateful that I'm alive, that I have a job and a roof over my head, but I can't help but feel it's not enough. I feel so alone.
I stop. Whoa. That's private.
I close the notebook and scrutinize the cover. Is this Felicity's diary?
I know it is, I know those lines were in her handwriting. I also know it's not right to read someone else's diary. I should just put this down without reading another line. I should put it back where I found it. But I don't.
I can't.
Those words I just read were like a doorway to a whole new world — the world of Felicity's thoughts. If tonight I saw Felicity out of her usual element, without all her walls up, this diary is Felicity laid bare. The real Felicity.
Just from those few lines, I caught a glimpse of her.
I never knew she felt lonely. I know she didn't have any friends when she first started her job because she had just moved in from New York, but it's been two years. I imagined her having fun with friends on weekends, catching a late night movie, going to a 24-hour spa or a bar. I didn't think she was spending her weekends alone or that she felt so alone that she had trouble sleeping.
I want to know more.
I sit in her chair and read the journal starting with the first entry.
Entry 4.7: Today was my first day at work. The job is as tough as I thought it would be, but I'm not going to crack. I'm going to do my best. My hot boss is counting on me, after all. He has these intense black eyes and this perfect dark brown hair, like really dark. And don't get me started about how his body looks, especially in a suit. You know I have a thing for men in suits, but I swear none of them can rock a suit like Shawn Colby can.
I grin. So, she thinks I'm hot, does she? I have caught her staring at me on a few occasions.
Now, I know why.
I keep reading. Some of the entries are just ramblings. Some are just a line long, like how she's tired from work or she's craving for ice cream. And surprisingly, some are about me.
Entry 5.1: I don't think Shawn knows it, but he's nailing his new job. He works harder than anyone in this building. And his head is full of brilliant ideas. He knows what he wants, and he makes it happen. I'm proud to call him my boss.
Entry 5.2: Shawn is so serious. I wish he would smile more. Then again, I also like his serious expression. I think he looks hotter when he's frowning or when he's deep in thought.
Entry 5.4: Shawn and I have started this habit of chitchatting for a few minutes after work. I look forward to it, but I wish we could have real conversations. I wish he'd open up to me more.
Funny. I've been feeling the same way.
Shawn is away on a business trip. He's in Berlin. I wish he'd taken me with him.
My eyebrows arch. Felicity wanted to come? I never knew. I always figured that when I'm away on a business trip, Felicity has less work so she can relax and go home early. I thought that by leaving her behind, I was letting her take a break. It never occurred to me that she'd be happier coming along. She definitely never mentioned it.
There are other things she's never mentioned.
Entry 6.1: I miss Mom and Dad. I wouldn't mind going back to being a child again if it meant I could have them back.
Entry 6.2: I hate tacos. They're impossible to eat.
Entry 6.5: I wish I had more money in my bank account so I could start planning for that trip across Europe. I wonder if it's too soon to ask for a raise.
Entry 6.7: Today, I realized what I want to be more than anything — a mother.
That last one takes me by surprise even more than the rest.
I had pegged her as a career woman, someone who would eventually go for another position in the corporate world and climb the ladder, maybe even become a top-ranking executive who would sit beside me at important meetings, not stand behind me taking notes. I can imagine her sitting behind a desk, being the one giving orders.
I can't imagine her pushing a baby stroller through the park.
But I don't have anything against the idea of her being a mother. If anything, what I'm struggling to accept is the fact that someday, she might get married, get pregnant and leave.
I guess I was hoping she'd stay single and stay by my side like Roseanne did for my father.
I keep reading, wondering what other secrets Felicity had buried between the pages. I have a feeling there's more, but I never expected what I discover next.
Entry 7.0: I want to have sex. I want to know what it feels like to have a man inside me.
Entry 7.1: When I have sex, I want it to be a little rough. I want to experience it fully. I want to lose my mind.
Entry 7.3: I wonder how it feels to have sex while blindfolded or in front of a mirror.
A lump forms in my throat.
For someone so shy, Felicity sure has some wild sexual fantasies. It's turning me on.
And there's more.
Entry 7.4: He'll pin my hands above my head and demand my surrender with his mouth, claiming my lips and worshiping my breasts. With his fingers, he will make me melt, pressing the secret button that transforms my excitement into ecstasy.
That's the last line of her most recent entry, which is a good thing because I don't think I could read any more. In spite of the air conditioning in the room, I'm sweating. And I'm hard.
If I hadn't wanted Felicity so badly already, I would now. I have an urge to go to her apartment and teach her what sex is all about. All weekend.
But my conscience won't shut up. It's like an alarm blaring through my head, telling me over and over that I'm Felicity's boss and I should act like it, reminding me of all the things that could go wrong if I let my dick make my decisions for me.
No. The answer is still no.
I close the journal and put it back where I found it, hiding it well so no one else will. I almost wish I hadn't read it. I'd be in less pain now. Then again, if I hadn't read Felicity's journal, I would still be clueless about her.
I'm glad I know more about her now. I swear I'm going to treat her better.
But first, I have to distract myself with work to make my 'not so little problem' go away.
Then I'm going to have those midnight drinks with my brothers and get drunk.
"Another," I tell the bartender after setting down my empty glass of Scotch for the fourth time. He refills it from the bottle within seconds."Same here," Ryker says, pointing to his empty glass of gin tonic."Looks like the two of you are having it rough," Asher remarks as he takes a sip of his martini. "It's that Swiss acquisition, isn't it?""The question is: Why don't you seem as anxious?" Ryker asks him. "Or have you forgotten that if this acquisition doesn't push through, it will be bad for the whole company?""I know, but it will still be worse for the two of you," Asher says.Ryker frowns."Maybe we should just leave him here when we go to Switzerland," I say."What do you think, Ryker?""Hey!" Asher complains. "No fair. I've already made plans for Switzerland."Ryker raises an eyebrow. "Plans?""I've heard Swiss women are gorgeous."Ryker rolls his eyes. I know what he's thinking — that some things never change."We are going to Switzerland for work, you know," I remind Ashe
Shawn is taking me with him to Switzerland? I can't believe my ears.He's never brought me along on his business trips before. Why now? Why all of a sudden? If he was planning on bringing me along, he could have told me weeks ago. I've already made all the arrangements. He didn't think of it then, so why think of it now? What made him change his mind?"I know it's a bit sudden," Shawn tells me. "But I've realized that this trip is even more important than I thought. I've never handled an acquisition this big. I want to be prepared for anything, so I need you there."Perfectly understandable, but I still can't bring myself to believe it. My fingers clutch the edges of the tablet in my hands, afraid that like this dream come true I've just been handed, it might slip away and shatter.Can this be real? Is it really alright for me to go to Switzerland with Shawn? I mean, we'll be traveling together and we might find ourselves alone together. What if I lose my composure again like I did la
The flight from Chicago to Zurich takes a little less than nine hours.I spend the first half hour marveling at the inside of Shawn's jet - well, it's owned by the company, actually, but this one is for the exclusive use of the CEO.It's a Gulfstream, or so Henry, the lone flight attendant on the plane, tells me. It's supposed to carry only eleven passengers, so I thought it would be small and cramped. Boy, was I wrong.Sure, it definitely looks like a dwarf on the outside compared to the gigantic commercial planes, but inside there's enough space for a kid to run and kick a ball around. And that's just the seating area. There's a dining area with a bar, a kitchen, a bathroom with a shower and a conference room.More than the space, it's the atmosphere of luxury that has me gasping and gaping in awe. The soft leather seats that come with neck massagers and convert into flat beds. The thick, burgundy carpet. Ambient lighting. My own 15-inch TV. Then there's the service designed to make
"I don't think I've ever eaten anything quite like that," I say as I dab my lips with the table napkin. "Is this what you eat all the time?""Not all the time," Shawn answers. "But it's one of my favorites. The chef who designed this, he was serving his food in a small hut when I first met him. Now he has an empire not just all, over Asia but all over Europe, to — ""And he's here?" I ask with arched eyebrows."No. He hates flying, But the chef who cooked for us this evening trained under him, among many others. He's very skillful,"I put my hands up. "No need to convince me. If the next dish is as good as this, I'll be very happy."Shawn grins. "I think you will be."Moments later, the second course arrives — a pair of pot stickers with a bit of salad on the side and a dark dipping sauce.The moment I see it, my chest tightens. I grip it as I draw a deep breath."Is something wrong?" Shawn asks me.I shake my head but fail to conceal my emotions. "It's just that this is one of the th
I guess those heaps of energy ran out.I turn off the light above Felicity's seat and press the button to push it back a bit further so she'll be more comfortable. She stirs but remains asleep. I drape the fleece blanket over her, Wrapping it around her shoulders. She gives off a sound of contentment like the purring of a cat. It makes me smile, but at the same time I feel a sliver of anxiety as I stare at her sleeping face.Felicity, what am I going to do with you?I've never met a woman who could make me feel so many emotions all at once. Earlier, while she was working, I couldn't help but admire her for working so hard. Her fingers were punching the keyboard like crazy, her eyes boring holes into her screen. It made me feel almost ashamed because it felt like she was working harder than I was. But it also inspired me to keep working hard myself. At the same time, I wanted to wrench her laptop away from her and tell her to stop working so we could continue with the conversation we h
The first thing we do is take a cruise across the sparkling lake, which is right next to the hotel.Afterwards, we head to the Old Town. We explore it on foot, starting from the Bahnhof on Main Street. Then we take a stroll past the colorful houses on Augustinergasse, drop by the Lindenhof and stop by the Uraniastrasse Police Station to see the vibrant murals by Augusto Giacometti.Through it all, I notice that Felicity still seems wary of my company. She keeps her distance from me and doesn't speak unless spoken to. Every now and then, she slips and drops her guard, especially when something interesting catches her attention and she forgets that I'm there, but when she remembers, she's quick to put it up again.I still don't understand why, but I don't mind. I'm still glad I decided to accompany her. It's evident she's excited to explore Zurich, even though she's trying her best to hide it, and the more she sees, the more she seems to fall in love with the city. As she takes in the s
I shouldn't have offered to share my umbrella with Shawn.It was a bad idea, a recipe for disaster. My umbrella is designed for one person, not two, and Shawn is a big guy, so right now my shoulder is getting wet from the rain, which means it's getting cold, though I'm trying hard not to draw Shawn's attention to it.Also, Shawn's taller than I am, more so since I'm not wearing heels, so he's the one holding the umbrella. In one way, that's good: I think my arm would fall off if I was the one carrying it. The problem is that every time the breeze blows, drops of rain land on my cheeks. Thank goodness the rain isn't that hard — a gentle shower rather than a downpour — or I'd be completely soaked from head to foot by now. But that's not why I think I made a bad decision.Shawn wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer to him.His hand rests beneath my armpit, close to my breast. "You're getting wet."I pull my arm tighter towards my chest so it doesn't bump against his firm stomach in
I smile at him. I give up. There's no way I can still act so composed around him when he's just seen me with caramel between my teeth, nor can I act distant towards him when he's just told me an embarrassing moment from his past to make me feel better. I don't know why he's being so kind, but I know I have to return the favor."Don't worry." I tell him. "I won't tell anyone about your mustache if you don't tell anyone about my...""Chocolate tooth cap? Deal."He glances at the display. "So, do you want to try something else? I'm guessing you're not buying the one with the caramel.""I am actually," I reply. "But not for me. For a friend.""A friend?""Randy from IT."Shawn's eyes narrow. "I thought you didn't have any friends from work."I touch my chin. "Did I say that?"I don't remember."You just haven't mentioned anyone before," Shawn says.Well, until last night, we'd never really talked about each other's personal lives."But I'm glad," he adds. "I'm glad you have friends."I no