Chapter 24

Archer wasn't at work the next day.

Lucas explained that he had meetings scheduled all morning. Grace suspected that Archer hadn't told his assistant what had happened the previous night.

Grace wasn't sure what she expected. A part of her thought they would have this beautiful reunion that morning. Fall into each other's arms in a life-affirming embrace. If not that, since that would be entirely inappropriate to do at work, just a quick exchange of hellos, asking if each other were okay, but with a secret brush of the hand, and knowing smiles.

She suspected he wasn't handling his near-death experience well. She took a chance and sent him a text.

Grace

Hey! Lucas told me you have meetings all morning. Just wanted to check in, see if all is well…

She noticed he saw the text, but didn't answer. After a few minutes, she put her phone away, feeling frustrated and a bit deflated.

"Definitely not handling it well," she said, as she powered on her computer to start her day.

A half-hour later, Scarlett came into the office to give Grace her messages. No doubt, a few days old.

"Morning Boss," Scarlett said, as she placed the stack of messages on Grace's inbound tray. Sh e gave a polite, but awkward smile then turned to leave.

"Scarlett, please sit down," Grace said.

"I really should be getting back to my desk," Scarlett replied, with a slight quiver in her voice. "The phone could ring."

"Oh now you're concerned about missing calls," Grace said sarcastically. "What's wrong? No morning gossip? No detailed description about what or who you did last night? You haven't even told me what's wrong with my outfit today."

"That blazer would look better with a skirt, and you should wear higher heels," Scarlett blurted, then slapped her hand over her mouth.

"There she is," Grace chuckled.

Scarlett, for once in her life, didn't reply.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Grace asked directly.

"Is what going to be a problem?" Scarlett asked unconvincingly.

"You know I'm not allowed to ask about your personal life, even if we cross those boundaries daily. But I need to ask, because it happened on company time, on company property. Yesterday could have gone so much worse, or could have been handled sooner if you and Lucas were…around."

"Grace, I'm so so so sorry. It just happened, it wasn't planned, I promise. Does the office know? Does Mr. Kennedy know? Am I fired? Did I get Lucas fired?" Scarlett asked in rapid-fire questions. "I'll take all the blame."

Grace pinched the bridge of her nose, considering all the implications of what happened and what should happen. The truth was, she had forgotten about the entire incident until just now, when Scarlett came in.

"Honestly, Scarlett, I haven't had the chance to even think about this, or how to handle it. I don't want to fire you, but you need to know that this wasn't good. It can't happen again."

"I t won't, I promise."

"Because if it does, I'll have to let you go," Grace warned.

"I understand, really I do. I'd deserve it," Scarlett agreed.

"Great. I'm glad we understand each other."

"So…" Scarlett started, mischief and excitement shined in her eyes. "Now that it's out, do you want to hear how it happened?"

"I mean, if you want to tell me," Grace answered, trying to keep the anticipation out of her voice. Because she did want to know, desperately, all the details, and she hated herself for it.

"Okay, so you know how Lucas has been obsessively in love with me since the day he started?"

"He pretty much hated you," Grace reminded her.

"Well, that's probably what he wanted everyone to think. He even had me fooled for a while. At one point I thought he might have been gay, which you know I am one hundred percent fine with. You know that I've had a few same-sex relationships. Do you remember Rachel? She was so–"

"Focus!"

"Yes, right. Anyway, we all know the sexual tension has been so high. Almost as strong as you and Archer?" Scarlett threw the question out there, cocking a brow.

Grace shook her head to let Scarlett know she wasn't going to go there.

"So the first time you sent us away to write up contracts, we figured out that working at separate desks wasn't very efficient. We were constantly messaging and running files over to each other. So to finish them off yesterday, we grabbed one of the small spare offices that we give to visitors to use. The only one free was the small office without windows at the end of the hall, with the weird curved desk. So because of the small setup, we had to sit side by side.

"I noticed we started to get closer to each other as the morning went on. When my arm brushed his, he wouldn't pull back , or move over to have more space. I started finding excuses to brush his arm, his hand, and lean in close when going over notes. At one point my leg touched his. He pressed his leg firmly against mine in response. Then he made the most genius, sexiest move I've ever seen."

"I don't have all day," Grace said, replying to Scarlett's long, dramatic pause. In truth, the suspense was killing her, and she needed to know.

"He dropped his pen. He made it look real too, like it was an accident, and I appreciated his commitment to the move. He fumbled it in a way that it landed not only under the desk, but between my feet. He told me not to move, that he had it, and bent down to get it. He bent in a way that his shoulder and arm were beneath the desk, but his head stayed above, leaning sideways against the surface of the desk." Scarlett demonstrated to Grace.

"Yup, got it, go on."

"He kept eye contact with me as he reached for the pen. He grabbed it, and as he picked it up, he slowly ran his hand up the inside of my leg; starting at the ankle, continuing past my knee, and stopping at my lower thigh."

Scarlett sat wide-eyed with an eyebrow raised, waiting for Grace's response.

"That's a pretty sexy move," Grace replied, unable to hide her enthusiasm for this story any longer. "What did you do?"

"I spread my legs wider," she shrugged, like the answer was so obvious.

"Of course," Grace added, urging her to continue.

"This is why you should wear more skirts," Scarlett lectured. "Especially if you're single. I easily shimmied my skirt up, he pushed my panties aside and he made me come twice! So naturally, I had to return the favour, with my mouth," Scarlett said.

She grabbed the stapler to demons trate, but Grace stopped her, yanking it out of her hands.

"Then one thing led to another and he had me bent over the desk, showing me exactly how much he ‘hated me.' When we were finished, we saw that we both had a few messages from you and Mr Kennedy and, well, you know the rest."

"That I do."

The two women sat in quiet contemplation. The room felt a few degrees hotter by the time Scarlett finished her story, and Grace was desperate to take off her blazer.

"Are you two still…? I'm sorry, I shouldn't ask," Grace apologized.

"Grace, we're friends, of course you can ask. And yes, he stayed at my apartment last night. He said his place was too far to walk and was worried he might miss the curfew, and asked to stay at mine. We both knew it was an excuse. Tonight we're staying at his place. He's going to cook me dinner," Scarlett said excitedly.

"So this isn't just an office affair?"

"I really don't think it is. But what about you? I see you smiling down at your phone here and there. Are you still talking to that guy without a face?"

"Against my better judgement, I am, but he said he wants to meet this Friday."

"Really? That's great. Wait, why don't you seem happy about this?"

"Ugh," Grace said, as she placed her forehead against her desk. "Because I sort of started seeing someone else, I think."

"You fucking slut," Scarlett burst out laughing.

"I haven't slept with anyone," Grace corrected her.

"It's Mr. Kennedy, isn't it?" she asked excitedly.

"I'm not going to answer that. "

"So what's wrong? Do you feel guilty? For what? Talking to someone and barely dating another at the same time?"

"No, you're right. But I still feel like I need to let Ar…one of them know that I'm talking to the other. The mystery man knows and seems fine with it, but now I think he's getting jealous. Wants to meet me, so I can choose, maybe? He knows I'm having a hard time with my guilt, so it's sweet that he's trying to help."

"You like them both, don't you?"

"Yes. But I need to know who Mystery Man is before I can move on. What if I don't like his voice? His mannerisms? What if he chews with his mouth open? What if he breathes obnoxiously through his mouth? No amount of abs can cancel any of those out."

"Yeah, and he could be ugly. Or have a weird dick. Oh my god, could you imagine?" Scarlett gasped tracing weird shapes in the air.

"I can always count on you to bring up the important things that matter," Grace said sarcastically.

"That's why you keep me around," Scarlett said, slapping her hands on the arms of her chair, then standing up. "If I'm not fired, I'll let you get to work. You might not want to fire me, but Mr. Kennedy still could, so I'm in damage control mode. I'm going to be the best assistant anyone has ever had," she stated before leaving Grace alone with her thoughts.

Scarlett had become the best assistant anyone could ask for.

She anticipated Grace's every need, answered every phone call, made the right copies, and even kept Grace hydrated, (which Grace insisted wasn't necessary, but Scarlett wouldn't take no for an answer).

It was too bad that it took an office scandal to get her to do her job properly. Grace knew that once the dust settled on their affair, Scarlett w ould return to her typical laid-back, gossiping ways, so she would enjoy having a competent assistant while it lasted.

By early afternoon, Grace had still not heard from Archer. From the business perspective, she found it odd, because he has made it a habit of letting her know how meetings went soon after they concluded. From a personal perspective, she started to freak out.

Has he changed his mind?

Is this his way of letting me down easy?

Did he not like being saved by a woman?

Did I have bad breath the last time he tried to kiss me?

He mentioned he was involved with someone. Am I the other woman?

Her mind was bombarded with questions and intrusive thoughts, but the last question stuck with her. She needed to have a talk with him before things escalated. They could end things now, and still salvage their professional relationship. Over time, any awkwardness would be forgotten.

"I'm just going to text him," she said aloud, as she retrieved her cell from her bag. "I have a right to know what's happening with the campaign, and he needs to know other things. I need to know other things," she murmured as she typed her message.

Anxious to know how the meetings are going

Also, when you return to the office, we need to have a chat

"Straight to the point, but whatever. I'm not interested in playing games."

She put her phone face down on her desk, so she wouldn't be left staring at it, and went back to work .

An hour later, when her phone failed to vibrate with a new message, she looked and found that Archer had not read her messages.

"Scarlett," she called over their shared intercom. "Can you ask Lucas to either call me or come see me in my office, thanks."

There was a knock, not thirty seconds later, then Lucas entered her office.

"I heard the intercom," he started.

"Because you were visiting Scarlett at her desk," she finished for him. "It's fine, really. That's not why I asked you in here. I'm hoping you can tell me when Archer will be out of his current meeting."

"Um…well…" Lucas said, while nervously swiping through his tablet.

"What is it, Lucas?" she asked sternly.

"Mr. Kennedy never made it to any of his meetings. And he won't answer my calls. I've been covering for him, saying it was my fault that he wasn't there, that I double booked him," he explained.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath. "When was he expected to return to the office?"

"Around an hour ago."

"And you didn't think of telling me any of this?"

"I should have, I realize that now, sorry. I guess I was in full cover-for-him mode. This isn't like him," Lucas admitted, worry in his tone.

"Have you talked to him at all today?" she asked.

"No."

"What about last night? After he got home?"

"No, the last time I saw or spoke with him was when he sent us all home yesterday."

So, he isn't handling things well , she thought.

"Text me his home add ress, and clear his schedule tomorrow. I'll handle this."