Curvy(19)



Seeing that my time has now become limited, I walk past her and push open both doors.

“Cindy I told you—” his words cut off when he looks up and sees me. Jaw clenching, nose flaring as he takes in my attire, or lack thereof. Today, like every day, he’s wearing a three-piece suit, which is the same grey as his eyes. He’s always so neatly put together. Even his stupid handsome face is all straight, perfect lines. Every time he came into the coffee shop I wanted to mess him up. I always want to run my fingers through his hair and give him that freshly f*cked look. I thought about rubbing my lips across his neck, leaving a smudge of my lip gloss there so he didn’t look so perfect. The first time he came in, he gave me a half smile and ordered a plain black coffee. No cream or sugar. Not even a flavor. Seems that’s how he likes everything. Every day he would come in and get his coffee and engage me in a little bit of conversation. I looked forward to seeing him. He was different than the other suits. Most either treated me like I could be a quick f*ck for them, or gave me a look of distaste.

Then one day he came in with a woman. I had my back to him, but I could hear them talking. Taking a quick glance over my shoulder, I could see the woman with him was beautiful. She was elegant in a way I can never imagine being. She said to him, “She looks out of place. I’m shocked they let her work here looking like that.” His only response was “I’m sure she would clean up nice if she actually tried.” It had been a long time since I’d been hurt by someone’s words and it pissed me off. So, that day, the games began. Gone were my sweet smiles and my excitement at seeing him. I know I look different. I like my pink and purple hair, my loud nail polish, and lip gloss. It’s me. I stopped trying to fit into other people’s molds when I left the foster system. I didn’t have to pretend to be anyone but me.

I tried to make his life hell whenever he came into the shop after that. Maybe if I was a big enough bitch he would stop coming. I am pissed that I let myself believe that he liked me.

Glancing around his office, it’s all so cold—glass and chrome. It makes goosebumps break out on my exposed skin. Everything in his office is perfectly in its place, just like him. I keep looking around, not wanting to meet his eyes yet.

“Well, Bray, I didn’t know you hired entertainment for the meeting,” says the man sitting across from Mr. Vanilla aka Bray. He never gave me his first name, but I kind of like it. Only after he pissed me off, and I started calling him Mr. Vanilla, did he tell me who he was. They’d poked fun at the way I looked, and I know it was childish of me, but I wanted to do the same to him. So when he asked me why I called him that, I told him “Because you couldn’t be more plain and boring if you tried.” That’s when he informed me he was Mr. Spencer. When I didn’t respond, he added, “Mr. Spencer as in Spencer Holding, the man who owns this whole goddamn building.” This still got nothing more from me than an eye roll. Like I gave a shit.

I look over at the other man, and he looks just as put together as Bray. That guy seems more laid back, with a smile playing at his lips. He’s attractive, but not as handsome as Bray. I’m starting to think no one is.

“I can be some entertainment for the right price, if that’s what you’re looking for. It turns out I’m in the market for a new job,” I say, shooting Mr. Vanilla a hard look before turning back to the other man and winking.

“Is that right? I’d be more than willing to help out a woman in need,” he says as he adjusts himself. I’m not a promiscuous girl. In fact, I’m a virgin. But I know how to use my body to get what I want. A little flirting can go a long way to getting things when you need them. I’m not holding on to my virginity, I just never had a reason or desire to give it up. I don’t think I ever felt attraction until I met Bray. Then he reminded me he’s just like the rest.

Glancing back over at Bray, I can see his mouth has fallen open in shock. When his eyes lock with mine his anger shines through. That’s a first. This might be the most emotion I’ve ever seen from him. I want to push it. I want him as mad as I am. He comes into my job and gets me fired. Well, I’ll come into his office and cause havoc. Maybe even mess up a business deal.

As I make my way towards the other man, I run my finger along one of the shelves that line the wall. One by one I start pushing things off the shelf with a soft shove. The trinkets hit the marble floor, their crashes ringing out in the room. Things break but I don’t skip a beat.

A loud female gasp behind me lets me know that Cindy is back.

“Security is on their way, Mr. Spencer,” she squeaks in that same voice as before. How he deals with that every day is a wonder. He doesn’t acknowledge her, he just keeps staring at me while I continue my assault on his shelves. When I reach the end, I turn and make my way over to the other man, stopping when I’m standing between his legs.

I make my intentions known by raising my eyebrows and looking down at him in his seat. When he pats his lap I straddle him.

“Want a taste?” I ask huskily. “You know, before you buy it.”

I glance back over at Bray who is now white-knuckling his glass desk. He looks to be gripping it so hard it could actually shatter under his grasp. Turning back to the guy I’m sitting on, I lean in to kiss him. I feel his breath hit my lips, but before he makes contact, I’m in the air. I feel myself fly off his lap and land behind Bray, who now faces his friend. I can tell he’s enraged without having to see his face. His fists are clenched at his sides and I can see him taking long hard breaths as if he just ran a marathon.

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