2. Izzy

Istepped into Oliver's office and shut the door behind me with a clink. His space had bachelor written all over it, just another testament to his playboy ways. The room was complete with leather chairs and a bar with expensive scotch. My favorite.

I walked to it and poured us both a drink.

"It's nine a.m.," Oliver chastised as he watched my every move.

It made me suddenly uncomfortable. I could practically feel the lecture he was building up to.

I shrugged my shoulder in faux ease and brought him a glass.

He took it without further comment and gestured for me to sit. I threw the scotch back before taking a seat. I should just sip it, savor the flavor and whatnot, but oh well. The mahogany woodsy flavor was reminiscent of the man currently judging me. I gulped the burn away.

Settling into the chair, I attempted to be my most professional self.

"I know what Harry did was awful," Oliver paused as if searching for the right words, "but can you please stop watching that video on our internet? Our IT team keeps informing me every time a lewd image appears. You know how they are after we had that incident with Peter."

Shit, rookie mistake. Never use public Wi-Fi when watching your ex dick-down someone else. "Apologies, boss man. I know you don't want another Pegging Peter incident."

Let's just say I left all cylindrical objects alone on his desk after he was fired. His sparkly stapler was on mine now though—right on top of my pile of manhwas—it was one of my favorite possessions. I may have a bit of an obsession with anything bright and colorful.

Oliver's brow wrinkled and his full lips flattened into a line. He sighed, exasperated. "Look. You have two more weeks of this moping bullshit. Then you need to cut it out. You didn't even love the man."

"Oh, so it's tough-love-bestie Oliver then?" I straightened in my seat and gave him my most cantankerous expression.

His face finally relaxed into a smile. He brought his scotch up, sipping it slowly. How incredibly proper of him."We both know I'm only the figurehead, not the actual boss here. Why you choose to work amongst the lot still confuses me."

He wasn't wrong. This company was technically mine, but I didn't especially like it. When I started, we were a marketing platform to promote the underdog. Now it felt like all we did was help schedule posts and keep up with trends on social media. I enjoyed the back side of it: finding patterns, tracking algorithms, projecting shifts. Unfortunately, I didn't particularly have the model beauty that sold—tall, skinny, and all sharp angles—so early on I asked Oliver to be the face of the company.

"Why do I feel hated by my coworker…" I wracked my head for the woman's name that sat next to me. "Sue," I decided on.

Oliver's shit-eating grin somehow expanded. "Well for starters, her name is Kathy."

I shrugged; he couldn't convince me those were different names. Sues and Kathys were the same. If you know, you know.

"And secondly, you really don't know the rumors?" He was holding in his laughter at this point.

"Rumors?" I questioned.

"You're fucking the boss to keep your job." He was full belly laughing now.

"Ha. Ha. Ha," I replied humorlessly. So maybe occasionally I would get drunk and leave when I felt like it. What's wrong with working from home?

Oliver sobered. "Are you sure you're going to be okay? We have our reunion coming up."

I growled out loud, "Oh, exactly what I need. Why are we going to that again?"

Oliver placed an elegant finger to his beautiful lips. "Marketing perhaps?"

"You've got jokes." At this point, I might rather wear beads out of a New Orleans puddle on Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras than go to this reunion.

"Room is already booked, luxury suite and all. Adjoining rooms. A spa. It'll be a vacation." Oliver was clearly enjoying my misery.

Hah. Our high school was exactly the last place I aspired to go. I was the overweight scholarship girl that wore hand-me-downs, but Oliver had a point. This would be an excellent marketing opportunity. Half of our old classmates were D-class celebrities that could switch to our company for all their self-promotion needs. More importantly, I could flaunt as the confident epicurean businesswoman I became.

Another unfortunate annoyance was my step-sister; she would undoubtedly be at the reunion. I wondered if she would bring precious Harry as her date. No, thank you.

When my father passed unexpectedly, my mother immediately upended our lives and moved us across the country. During that period, our relationship deteriorated, and we grew incredibly distant. We hadn't fully unpacked into our new home, when my mother met my step-sister's dear old dad at a school event. After they married, I only spoke to my mother at our sporadic family dinners, and even that felt unbearable.

My father. Fuck, I missed him. I was the queen of pushing my feelings deep into the recesses of my mind and I still hadn't processed his death even after all these years. It might have something to do with the lack of closure. My mother didn't bother to plan a funeral for him before we were hightailing it across state lines and changing our last names to further "distance" us from the pain.

I rolled my head between my shoulders to release some of my anxiety and relinquish the memories of him.

I would go to therapy. One day.

The last reason I so desperately didn't want to go to the reunion? Well, that was a secret I planned on keeping. And another point towards me needing professional help.

At least I would have Oliver and my other friend, Yara.

"Is Yara staying with us?" I lifted myself off the chair, peeling my thighs up as I went and deemed it was a two glasses of scotch kind of day. I poured another finger, threw it back, and resettled in his uncomfortable chair. Leather did not make a sweaty girl comfy.

Oliver once more followed my every move with his eyes. I could practically taste his judgment and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Floor below, so you won't have to hear the gremlin." He snorted. "That is if she doesn't end up passing out drunk with you. Again." He narrowed his eyes in annoyance. Yara and Oliver never did solidify a good friendship; they were amicable and liked to fuck with each other like siblings. I knew that was for my sake, I was the common ground that kept them in each other's orbits.

I had two friends from high school. Well, there was a third, but we weren't exactly friends. I shook my head clearing my thoughts of the man, I hadn't heard from him since the summer after I graduated. He was just another secret I had kept from Oliver and Yara. They were the only two that really counted. Oliver and I ended up owning this company together. But Yara? She had a completely different career path.

She basically ran a dating service, but for those with special interests. Specifically bordering on the taboo. It was something I always found intriguing, but I'd never had the courage to pursue the ventures she provided. I almost did once, but then Harry dug his way into my life.

He and I met at a party, and while I wasn't immediately drawn to him, he love-bombed me until I gave in to a date. He kept at it until I agreed to be his. It was at that point Harry completely shifted to shine through as the asshole he truly was. I should have noticed the red flags, but I was desperate to meet a good man, so I ignored them. Once again. He kept me from Yara's dating site before, but nothing would stop me this time around.

The last time Yara and I booked adjacent rooms, she brought her work home with her. Needless to say, the noises kept me from getting much sleep. And I would never admit it out loud but listening to the activities had made me horny as hell.

I swept my hair back, removing it from the hole it had fallen into AKA my cleavage. For a moment, I thought I saw something akin to lust sweep through Oliver's eyes, but I dismissed it. He had always drawn a very firm line between us.

Business and pleasure never ended well anyway. Just ask Pegging Peter.

"You have two weeks to accept that we're going." Oliver raised a challenging brow.

"Okay dad. Now can I go back to work, boss man?"

Oliver's deep chuckle followed me as I exited his office. I determined it might be best to not actually do any work in this condition. A video call to my bestie was in fact the primo decision.

She answered on the third ring as I exited the building and made my way to my car. My driver/friend, Maddox, somehow always knew when I was enroute and he held the back door open for me.

I let my eyes meet his guarded smoky gray ones for just a moment, before I redirected my attention to my phone. He was another man that was definitively off limits.

Yara's golden hair and beautiful face filled my phone's screen as I settled into the backseat. Her striking cerulean eyes always held a glint of her inner deviance.

"Yara, I'm ready. For real this time. Help a girl out."

"I thought you'd never ask!" Yara's angelic face immediately darkened, turning her into a predator.

I shivered involuntarily at her reaction.

"Fucking finally!! No take backsies." Her high-pitched animated voice was at odds with her calculating eyes. "No more falling on these trash men. It's time." Her excitement was palpable through the phone. It was contagious.

Yara was right. It had been too long; the internet and shitty porn weren't enough. I wanted to fulfill myself. I wanted to delve into my fantasies.

Harry had never given me close to anything I needed, and the one time I tried to communicate with him? He shut down and shamed me. I didn't dare bring it up again.

I thought he only liked missionary, but apparently, I could have gotten a dry dick in my ass, too. God, he fucking sucked. What was I even thinking dating him?

If a man was a walking red flag AND he couldn't make you come? Leave his ass.

I needed to go outside my comfort zone and try something that even just the thought of, had me clenching my thighs together needily. I rubbed my legs against each other, trying to relieve some of the tension that was building up. I had an idea for how this evening was going to play out.

Yara set her phone down, balancing it, and steepled her hands together jokingly. "You're going to go home and rub one out, aren't you?" she cackled loudly. "Good, prep yourself. I am about to help facilitate the ruination of your sex life. You will never be able to go back to these useless men again."

Fuck, she knew me too well. I flicked her off before ending the call.

I had felt the weight of Maddox's eyes during the entire interaction, and I finally met his gaze through the mirror. "You heard none of that!" I poked him in the back of his broad muscular shoulder.

The man was a sexy giant, but unfortunately, he made his intentions clear when it came to me.

Friends only.

I still remembered the night we met, when he kissed me in a bar all those years ago. It was soul crushingly hot, and the thought had me burning. I needed to get out of this car. Now.

"Izzy…" His voice held its typical warning tone. He was supposed to solely be my driver, not a bodyguard or my dad, but he obviously didn't understand the job assignment.

One lecture from Oliver was enough. Before Maddox could make it two, we pulled up to my house, and I hopped out of the car. I offered him a mocking salute before quickly making my way inside.