Page 14

FOURTEEN

Wyatt

“Are you okay? Are you going to faint again?” My eyes widen as I watch her face turn as red as her hair and then go completely pale. I can’t help it if she skips lunch, but I’ve been leaving snacks on her desk—anonymously, of course—so I know she can’t be completely without food.

Again.

She sways on her feet, and I lurch forward, holding my hands out toward her but careful not to make contact because one of two things could happen. Either she topples over and cracks her head open on my glass coffee table. Or I’m some creeper who can’t keep his hands to himself.

“Do you need some water? Something to eat? Kelsey, are you okay?”

She makes a choking noise as she bats away one of my hands and stares down at her phone like it’s a lifeline. Fuck. Maybe it is. For all I know someone just died and I interrupted her moment of processing.

I really should check it out to make sure she’s okay to drive, but as I move to glance down, she makes that noise again. She sounds like she’s dying inside and while I don’t know shit about medicine, I know that can’t be good.

Making sure to keep a watchful eye on her, I bend down and grab her phone. She pales even more and this time when she opens her mouth, her words come out in a jumbled mess.

What the hell is wrong with her? Is she having a stroke? Should I call 911?

I glance down at her phone and manage to see two cherries dangling next to each other and Cherry Bid before she snatches it from my hand and tosses it into her purse. She makes no further attempt to explain or give me any reassurance to her wellbeing.

“Are you having a nervous breakdown?” I take a step toward her, my gaze never leaving hers. “If you are, I’m not sure I’m the best equipped to take care of you.”

She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and bites down so hard I’m worried she’s going to draw blood. “Did you see anything?”

Maybe it’s the lawyer in me. Maybe I’ve always been a curious fellow, but I have to know what in the fuck Cherry Bid is. It’s obviously significant to her…or it’s something she really didn’t want me to see.

What if she’s in trouble? What if she’s doing something illegal?

Obviously, I have to get to the bottom of this, and if she’s up to no good, she’s not going to be admitting shit to me. So, I shove my hands in my pants pocket and rock back on my heels. “I see you. I see my freshly cleaned suit.”

“Nothing else?” Her voice wavers, her hand gripping the handles of her purse so tight her knuckles are turning white.

My brows raise as I study her face. She’s still chewing on that bottom lip, her eyes are darting around the room, and her breaths are coming in short pants. She’s nervous as hell. Definitely doing something she’s not supposed to.

“Obviously, I saw your phone, but not what was on it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She gives me one curt nod, her entire body deflating. “I’ve got to go.”

And that’s it.

She turns around, shoves my freshly pressed suit against my chest, and fucking runs away from me. If she had been on the other side of my couch, I have no doubt she would have hurdled that bitch like a pro athlete. She doesn’t look back. She doesn’t say goodbye. She doesn’t tell me she’ll see me Monday.

Just fucking slams the door.

There’s no way I’m not looking this shit up.

I wait a few seconds, making sure she’s not coming back, and pull my phone from my back pocket.

I type in Cherry Bid but the first few results are completely unhelpful. I doubt she was freaking out about instructions on keeping your cherries fresh in the fridge. But then I scroll halfway down the page, and something catches my eye.

Holy fucking shit. I click that bitch open so quick I might have broken my finger, and now I’m waiting very patiently for the seconds—no, the minutes it takes the website to load. I think I aged seven years.

And there it fucking is.

The damn illustrated cherries.

No wonder she didn’t want me to see this. I have so many questions, none of which are appropriate for a boss-employee relationship. I really want to know if she’s really a virgin and if she is, how is that possible? She’s a knockout. Her silky waves beg to be wrapped around my fist, preferably while she’s bent over my desk, looking at me with those crystalline blue eyes of hers. And those curves? Please. I spend at least two hours a day trying not to undress her in my mind. It’s nearly impossible. She was made for my hands, my mouth, my?—

Okay, obviously I need to pull myself together. The status of her virginity is none of my damn business.

But her safety is. Right?

I wouldn’t be a very good boss if I wasn’t looking out for her welfare. Meeting some stranger off the internet is risky business. Someone needs to keep her safe.

First, I need to tell Maverick and Brantley.

Me

Come over.

Mav

No offense, but I had to look at your face all day. I need a break.

It’s not me. It’s you.

Brant

Everything okay? Please don’t tell me you tried to cook again.

Me

Why does everything have to be so difficult with the two of you? This isn’t about me. It’s about our secretary.

Mav

What about her? Did you hit her over the head and drag her to your cave?

Brant

Would you two leave that poor girl alone? She’s practically half our age.

Mav

Fifteen years younger. Don’t be so dramatic, and let’s not forget, I’m not the one kidnapping her.

Me

For fuck’s sake, no one has been kidnapped.

“Miss Rhodes, if you’re in trouble, I need you to knock twice,” Maverick calls out as he opens the door to my apartment, my brother hot on his heels.

“She’s not here.” I flop down on my couch, flipping my phone between my fingers, and stare at the forbidden red fruit.

Brantley lowers himself in the chair across from me. “What about her?”

“Okay, so when she was here dropping off my suit, I caught her looking at her phone?—”

“That’s hardly a big deal.” Maverick crosses his arms, leaning against Brantley’s chair. The look he’s giving me tells me how ridiculous he thinks I’m being.

With a sigh, I loosen my tie. “It’s not a big deal, but when she realized I was here, she nearly jumped out of her skin. I thought she was having another panic attack and had dropped her phone in the process. Because I’m a gentleman, I went to pick it up for her when she snatched it out of my hand and asked if I saw anything on it.”

Brantley leans forward, his hands clasped between his knees. “She was on her phone at the office earlier today. As soon as she saw me, she tossed it in her purse and ran off. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but this seems like it’s too coincidental.”

“Did you see what was on the phone?” Maverick asks, his thumb scraping along his jaw.

As soon as I nod, Brantley stiffens. “What are we talking about here? Is she a spy for Anderson? A drug dealer?”

“Nothing like that.” I unlock my phone and hold it out toward them.

Brantley grabs it, his eyes widening as he looks at the screen. Maverick’s mouth pops open, and the two of them stare down at it for several beats before Maverick’s gaze meets mine.

“Is this for real?” Brantley glances between us. “She’s looking at auctioning off her virginity?”

Maverick shifts, blowing out a puff of air, and runs a hand through his hair. “There’s no way she’s still a virgin. None.”

“Not all of us are as cavalier with our sex lives as you are, Mav.”

“Was that your polite way of calling me a manwhore?”

“If the shoe fits.” Brantley sits back, crossing his legs at the ankle. “Regardless, we're getting off topic. How do we know Miss Rhodes was looking at this place for her and not a friend? What if she just wanted to know if a place like this existed?”

“We don’t.” I lean back on the couch, mirroring his position. “But if it’s legit, don’t you think we have an obligation to protect our employee?”

He studies me for a second, his brow raised. “From what? If she wants to meet some random stranger off the internet, who are we to stop her? We are her bosses, Wyatt, not her boyfriend.”

“I’m with Wyatt. It could be dangerous.” With a sigh, Maverick pulls out his own phone, no doubt going back to this website. “It looks like everyone wanting to participate in the auction needs to be registered by Monday.”

Brantley glances back at Mav, his frown deepening. “And what are you suggesting we do? That we register as bidders?”

“It’s not the worst plan.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Brantley scoffs. He pushes up from the chair and heads toward the front door. “The both of you need to leave that poor girl alone. If this is something she’s legitimately doing, then it’s her business, not ours. Now, I’m going to eat my dinner and pretend we didn’t have this conversation. Jesus. HR would have a field day with you guys.”

As soon as the door closes behind him, Maverick laughs as he slides down in the chair, taking Brantley’s spot. “ Don’t be absurd . It’s like he doesn’t know us at all. He may want nothing to do with this, but there’s no way I can let this go. We need to register.”

“Let’s say we do register. Then what? What if she has a profile? What if she puts herself out there next week?” What am I supposed to do? Just continue working like nothing is going on, like my secretary isn’t trying to bang some random stranger for money?

Absolutely not.

I can’t do it.

“Then we bid.” Maverick shrugs like it’s no big deal. “We both have millions sitting untouched in our bank accounts.”

“But what does that do? If she’s genuinely looking for someone to fuck, placing the winning bid and ghosting her isn’t going to do anything. There will be another auction on another site.” One that we won’t have access to. There could be hundreds of these sites; it would be next to impossible to monitor all of them.

“Who says we’re going to ghost her?” Maverick leans forward, a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes. “We’re going to win that auction, we’re going to book a fancy room at a swanky hotel, and then we’re going to fuck our little secretary so good she’ll forget what decade it is.”

“We?”

“We.”