Secret Desires (4 page)

"How much longer do I have to pretend?"

The question caught her off guard. "I- What do you mean?"

"It's against company policy for you to date a client. I'm a client. How long do you think this can last?"

A lump formed in Natalie's throat, and when she tried to swallow it down it felt like a ball of sandpaper. She didn't know if by
'this
' he meant keeping their relationship a secret, or the relationship itself. It had only been a couple of months but she'd become accustomed to pretending that James was nothing more than a client, same as every other male client whose account she managed. From the beginning he seemed to understand her position, even if he didn't like it. It hadn't really occurred to her that he might grow tired of hiding and move on to someone else. Someone he could send flowers to at work or pick up from the office. Someone he could have a seriously sexy afternoon rendezvous with just for fun and not have to go through covert methods in order to do it.

"I don't know," she answered. What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I don't want to go on pretending I'm not-" He bit down on his lip as if to force him from saying something. "I can talk to Graham Martin."

"No!" Natalie recoiled out of his embrace, ignoring the sudden look of shock on James' face. "You absolutely will not talk to my boss about me in any capacity beyond my job performance as it relates to your company." She could feel the anger turning her blood hot beneath her skin.

James stood and quickly crossed the room, hands on his hips, before turning around again to face her. "Quit your job."

"No!" She wanted to scream the word. She stood and crossed to his side of the room until she was within three feet of him. "Take your account somewhere else!"

James dropped his head to the side. His eyes narrowed in on her. "I have a longstanding relationship with Brighton and Graham Martin. Not to mention a contract."

"But it would be okay for me to quit my job?" she asked, incredulous that she even had to speak the words out loud. "You really want to be with a woman who would agree not to work because you told her to? I know you like being in charge James, but you can't control me.

"I know," he sighed, frustration crinkling his face. "Of course not. But something has to give, Natalie. You saw what keeping secrets did to my marriage and I refuse to go through that again."

"Then let me be perfectly honest about something with you, James," she said as she crossed her arms, her body on the defensive after his rather ridiculous - not to mention insulting - suggestion. "I'm already putting my career in jeopardy by sleeping with you. If anyone found out about us they could make a very strong case for favoritism and impropriety and
I
would be out of a job. Not you. Not Graham Martin.
Me
. I'm the expendable one."

He shrugged his shoulders and snorted as his eyes rolled to the ceiling. "So we're at an impasse then. Great."

Without another word or so much as a glance in her direction, James walked out the front door and let it slam shut behind him. Surprised, but still on edge from what seemed to be their first fight, Natalie sat back down on the couch and buried her face in her hands, unsure of what to do.

Natalie could barely focus on anything the rest of the day. She found herself checking her phone every half hour just to see if James had so much as texted her, but every time she looked she just felt more annoyed. By nightfall she hadn't accomplished much in the way of work, and resigned herself to bed for the evening, phone charging on her bedside table. She tossed and turned. When she got too warm beneath the bedding she kicked it off and turned down the thermostat, only to wrap herself up in a scarf and blanket when she was too cold twenty minutes later. Only minutes later she was pushing the blanket and scarf away again, kicking them off the bed entirely out of frustration.

She slept lightly, waking up what seemed like every thirty minutes, each time cursing her brain for not being able to shut off. The nerve of him to ask her to quit her job. Not once, but twice! And yet the concept of him being the one to sever ties with Brighton was absolutely out of the question. He had a contract. But he was absolutely fine with her being unemployed. What was she supposed to do for money? Live off of him? Be his project? Be a trophy girlfriend whose sole duty in life was to please her man? Not Natalie Harlow.

Each time she woke up throughout the night she turned and flipped her pillow so the cool side was on her face, punching it into the right shape to mould against her head. She was absolutely listless, the lack of deep sleep merely exacerbating her anger.

It was nearly half past four when she finally abandoned hope of getting any sleep. She sat up in bed, resigned and bitter at her predicament.

Was James on the verge of giving her an ultimatum? He wouldn’t really ask her to choose between him and her career, would he?
No! No. No, he wouldn't do that
. She chewed on her thumbnail. He was a controlling man but not domineering. The fact that she was intelligent was one she knew he admired about her. Not that Celine wasn't intelligent. She probably was. According to James, Celine was about societal status, making appearances and being somebody - most notably the wife of a very young, very handsome, very wealthy businessman. But she was motivated by a different type of lifestyle - James' world - and Natalie couldn't care less about it. She wasn't concerned with the trappings of any particular lifestyle except her own. Work hard, get a little ahead, enjoy life. Rinse and repeat.

Stop!
she admonished herself.
You are not going to turn into one of those idiots who obsesses over every aspect of her relationship. James is probably just frustrated
, she told herself.
But if this is who he is then it's better to find out now before...
She took a deep breath through her nose and bit the insides of her cheeks. They'd only been seeing each other a few months. If these were James' true colors then she was lucky to find out now before any real feelings were developed. Yes, he was fantastic in bed, was likely the best lover she would ever have, but sex was not something to build a relationship on and she couldn't be with a man who casually told her to quit her job. Not for any reason.

Natalie glanced once more at the clock and groaned, sleeplessness provoking her to the bone. She grabbed for her phone and swiped it awake, tapping her way to the messages screen to angrily stab out a message to Shane.

'Coming in early. Will stop for coffee.'

A brief hot shower managed to relax her enough to get her mind off of James and focused on work. She dressed in black slim fitting trousers, a white button-down collared shirt, and topped that with an orchid colored blazer made from Italian wool flannel - an expensive piece she'd been fortunate to pick up on sale. She clasped on a statement necklace and slipped her feet into a pair of simple patent flats. She applied just enough makeup to make herself look well rested and left the apartment with her work items stuffed into a leather satchel. She would look the part of someone who had had a full night's sleep and was prepared for a long day at work, even if she didn't feel the part.

By the time Natalie parked her car - in what was considered by many employees to be one of the best parking spots in the entire structure - she was starting to smile. Coffee Bean wasn't packed, morning traffic hadn't yet started on the usually congested freeway; perhaps the day wasn't cursed by her lack of sleep. Bag slung over her shoulder, deliciously hot coffee in hand, Natalie felt her day brightening with every step toward the employee entrance.

She could hear the faint echo of her footsteps along the wood floor as she made her way through the open space of cubicles that dominated the center of the warehouse-type office building. Every morning since earning her promotion she smiled at the desk that was once hers as she made her way to her very own office. She missed the sense of camaraderie in the cubicle farm, but enjoyed the occasional moment of silence having an office with a door afforded her.

Natalie turned right down the familiar hallway leading to her office and stopped short when she saw light illuminating the semi-dark space from one singular place: her office. She approached cautiously. As far as she knew she was the first and only person in the building; hers was the only car in the parking structure.

A woman was sitting at her desk, her attention on her phone as she tapped away at a furious pace. She looked too fancy to be an employee. Maybe she was a client? Natalie immediately rid herself of the notion that she should knock to get the woman's attention. This was
her
office.

"Ahem
. May I help you?"

The woman glanced up briefly and offered only a sliver of a smile. "Oh, hi. Are you from Human Resources? I know I'm a bit early," she shrugged, a bit too disingenuously, Natalie noticed.

"Um, no. Human Resources is upstairs." The woman didn't so much as look up from her phone. Natalie entered through the door and set her satchel down on the desk. "I'd be more than happy to point you in the right direction."

"Thanks, honey. I know where it is." The woman glanced up for only the second time, the same faux-polite smile on her pink-lacquered lips. Natalie stood there, a disbelieving and incredulous smile growing on her face. She wanted to laugh if only to physically exhaust herself of the irritation from having been called 'honey' by a complete stranger who didn't look to be much older than she was.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the bit of coffee-infused peppiness that was quickly fading away every second she stood like an interloper in her own office. Natalie was ready to snap.
Stay calm and smile
, she told herself.

"Perhaps I could escort you to reception instead? There are plenty of comfortable chairs there you could sit in while you wait for whomever it is you are waiting for.
My office
is spoken for."

At that the woman did look up, giving both Natalie and her nameplate on the door a second and more thorough glance. She laughed as if at a joke only she knew the punch line to and stood, phone in hand, from Natalie's desk. She was at least three inches taller than Natalie and had very dark, glossy brown hair that fell in a perfectly straight line that gently brushed against the tops of her shoulders as she walked. She was tan and luminous with vibrant eyes the color of emeralds. The woman was, in every possible sense of the word, gorgeous.

"My apologies," she said with a swish of her empty hand. "There must have been a miscommunication. Ivy Whitcomb," she introduced.

Natalie perked a bit at the name. "From San Francisco? Right, Graham Martin said you would be arriving today. Natalie Harlow." She shook the woman's hand, immediately underestimating the strength in the deceptively delicate limb.

"Very nice to meet you. Sorry again about this." She waved her hand again around the space of the room. "You keep such a tidy space I thought the office was vacant."

Natalie forced a smile and bit the insides of her cheeks. She was never one for decorating her workspace with personal belongings and it wasn't like she could put up a picture of her boyfriend without raising considerable suspicion.

Hmm. Boyfriend.
"I like to focus on work. Speaking of which, welcome to Los Angeles. I'm sure you'll fit very nicely here with us."

"I have no doubt," Ivy said, clearly not lacking confidence. She offered another smile before clearing out of the office and disappearing down the hallway, the scent of Chanel perfume trailing in her absence. Natalie sat in her seat and set to work.

The next time she lifted her head to look somewhere other than the computer screen it was coffee that filled her senses instead of Chanel.

"Hot and fresh!" Shane smiled cheerfully as he set the large coffee cup down on Natalie's desk. He sat in a chair at the opposite end and took in her appearance. "Should I run out for some under eye concealer too?"

Natalie grimaced. "I don't look
that
bad, do I?" she asked before taking a sip.

"Noooo!" Shane replied, drawing out the word. "I would ask if you were up late partying but I know you better than that."

"Yeah, well even if I had been doing that I wouldn't tell you." She closed a program on her computer screen before leaning back in her chair, coffee cup to lips, and stared thoughtfully at her assistant. "You mean to tell me that if I told you I was having a torrid affair that kept me up at all hours of the night you wouldn't believe me?"

Shane laughed in a way that sounded as if he were saying '
Oh, you!'
at the ridiculous possibility of Natalie having such a wild social life. "You're my boss. I'll believe whatever you want me to believe." How a person could smile in a way that was simultaneously genuine
and
fake was lost on her. Shane was nice to her, and she suspected that was not just because she was his boss. She never minded that he was quite the chatty gossip, and despite their total personality differences they got on well and he always knew how to make her laugh.

"I appreciate your loyalty," she replied, trying not to sound as though she were hurt.

"Of course!" he beamed, apparently not noticing her tone at all. "You know I truly believe that is my greatest quality. Anyways! Do you have anything you need me to review before the craziness starts today?"

"Just a few notes. I'll send them to your inbox."

"Great!"

"Thanks for the coffee," she called out as he exited her office. He yelled out a response she couldn't make sense of as she returned to her computer, emailing him notes for her upcoming meetings.

Just as she hit 'send' her phone pinged and lit up.

'Gentleman Twelve: Thinking of you.'

Natalie swiped to unlock her phone and quickly tapped out a response. 'I've been doing a lot of thinking myself.'
Yeah, a whole night's worth
, she thought to herself.

His reply came back a moment later.
'Don't worry, the package doesn't have my name on it.'

Natalie read the message three times, not once understanding the meaning of it. Package? What package was he talking about? Just as she started to reply there was a knock on her door. She looked up to find Shane staring excitedly at her, his lips pursed like he was withholding his own enthusiasm.

"You've got a delivery. Apparently only
you
can sign for it," he said pointedly as he moved out of the way of a middle-aged man wearing a nondescript shirt and tie.

"Miss Natalie Harlow?" the man asked. "Please sign here." He handed her the clipboard he held in one hand and waited patiently as she signed on the indicated line. "Have a nice day, ma'am," he said as he handed her a square package wrapped in brown paper.

"Thank you," she called out, but the man was already well on his way, passing by Quinn as she made her way towards Natalie's office.

"What's going on?" Quinn asked, looking as chic as ever in a bustier jumpsuit that added curves to her svelte frame.

Natalie tucked the package under her arm and grabbed for Quinn's hand with the other. "Shane would you mind giving me five minutes before the start of the next meeting?"

"Sure thing, boss," he said, his eyes still curiously trained on the package.

"Thanks."

"What-" Quinn began as Natalie pulled her into the office and shut the door behind them. "Do you need to borrow some concealer for those dark circles under your eyes?"

"No," Natalie dismissed. "I think this is from James."

"Okay." Quinn shrugged. "And?" Natalie sighed. She didn't have time to explain everything that had happened on Sunday to her. "Don't tell me you're still having issues?"

"We are." Natalie set the package down on her desk and took a letter opener to it, unwrapping the brown paper packaging and peeling it away to reveal a distinctly blue colored box hidden within.

Quinn immediately perked. "Tiffany?" she mused, bordering somewhere between impressed and amused. "Well it's too big to be a ring."

"Oh my god please don't even
joke
about that!" Natalie sighed. Her stomach tied into a knot at the mere suggestion of it.

Inside the Tiffany box was another box, the lid of which opened to reveal-

"Wow!" Quinn drew in a quick, awe-inspired breath. Nestled in the innermost packaging was a cuff featuring leaves weaved in intricate rose gold detail. It was beyond beautiful; it was stunning.

"Of course," Natalie exclaimed as realization dawned. "Leaves of an olive branch."

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked, her attention locked on the piece of jewelry.

"It's a peace offering." She shook her head in disbelief. "Or rather an apology."

"Honey whatever he did, forgive him."

Natalie rolled her eyes. "You don't even know what he did."

"You mean the wife thing?" Quinn asked, finally taking her eyes off the cuff to give Natalie a pointed look. "You knew he had one before you started dating. Honestly, Nat, you've got to give the man some leeway here."

"It's not the wife thing!" Natalie protested. "It's the client thing. It's the he-wants-me-to-quit-my-job thing."

"He actually asked you that?"

"Twice! I'm not giving up my career for a man. No matter how good the sex is," she added almost as an afterthought.

Quinn only briefly considered the notion and then shrugged. "You could always work somewhere else."

Natalie's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "You're joking. I should quit my job for him?"

Quinn's eyebrows knit across her forehead. "Keep your voice down, Red," she soothed, taking a quick glance at the closed office door. "I'm not saying you should quit it
for
him. I'm merely pointing out that you could work somewhere else where there isn't a policy against dating him. What's wrong with that?"

"It's the principle of the matter!" Natalie huffed.

Quinn sat on the edge of Natalie's desk and crossed her arms over her chest. "So let me see if I understand you correctly. You'd rather throw away a potentially fantastic relationship with an equally amazing guy because of a
job
? A job you could find anywhere else in this country if you wanted?"

Natalie's toes curled as she resisted the urge to stomp her foot. "Why should I be the one to give up part of my life to accommodate him?"

"It's not part of your life, Natalie. It's a job. You think you're going to be working here your entire life? Think you'll retire as the CEO of Brighton New Media?"

"Well, no-"

"You think this place," Quinn continued, her hands gesturing around the small office they were currently occupying, "will be the entire sum of your professional career?"

"That's not-"

"Because the way I see it, you're using a job that is ultimately insignificant in the grand scheme of things to keep from exploring a relationship that may lead to something truly significant." Quinn paused for emphasis, and Natalie didn't try to interject. "The man just sent you a ten thousand dollar peace offering and you won't even entertain the possibility of relieving the both of you of a stupid rule that prevents you from going out in public together?"

Natalie pouted, not liking the feeling of having been put in her place by someone she trusted and admired. Someone whose own romantic exploits began and ended with a one-night stand. She picked up her coffee and drank to give herself time.
A ten thousand dollar peace offering?
That had to be an exaggeration. She opened her mouth to say as much when a knock on the door interrupted. She glanced quickly at her watch and then to the door as it opened, but it wasn't Shane who stepped through the door, it was Graham Martin.

"Mr. Martin, good morning!" she cheerfully greeted him as she discreetly moved the contents of her recent delivery out of direct line of sight. "What can I do for you?"

"Good morning, Natalie. Ms. Potter," he nodded in Quinn's direction. "I wanted to personally make the first introductions. Ivy Whitcomb this is Natalie Harlow and Quinn Potter from marketing." Ivy stepped in behind Graham and smiled politely at them. "Ivy joins us from our San Francisco office."

"Yes, we met this morning. Nice to formally meet you, Ivy," Natalie greeted as she reached out for and shook Ivy's hand for the second time that day. This time she was prepared for the firm and slightly aggressive shake with a woman who had deceptively delicate hands.

"Likewise," Ivy mused. "And you as well, Quinn."

Graham continued on in his usual jovial fashion. "I was just explaining to Ivy how our office has grown so much in client business recently and how we've all had to step up to the plate to keep the work evenly distributed. Unfortunately, even our most competent account managers have been overburdened with work. Natalie I know you more than anyone have been working hard, coming in on weekends and going that extra mile to make sure every one of your clients is attended to."

Natalie smiled appreciatively as she shook her head. "Just doing my job, Sir."

"Well allow me to lighten that load for you!" he beamed. "I'm reassigning one or two accounts from each of our VP's to Ivy so she can hit the ground running."

"Oh! Okay!" Natalie exclaimed, hoping her smile hid the burden she felt being immediately lifted from her shoulders. Fewer weekends coming into the office or slaving away at home preparing for the upcoming week? She would gladly accept the help.
Thank you, Ivy!

Graham continued. "Let's go ahead and give Ivy Silver City Film. They're a brand new account so you'll have no trouble picking it up and running with it," he said as he turned to address Ivy.

Natalie was relieved. She'd only met with Silver City Film once and it was obvious within the first five minutes that they were going to be an extraordinarily difficult and time-consuming client. Ivy could have them.

"And then we'll also have her take over for Fitson Entertainment Groupe."

Natalie could barely control what she knew must have looked like complete shock on her face. "Sir?"

"Yes, well..." Graham cleared his throat and seemed to deter his attention away from Natalie entirely. "The Fitson account originated in our San Francisco office and Ivy was point person before it transferred to our office here in Los Angeles. She's known both Audra Robertson and James Fitzgerald for years so it is a good fit all around."

Natalie felt as though someone had slapped her across the cheek.

Ivy took a step forward and set a hand on Graham's shoulder. "I was so honored when they personally asked for me to be put back on the account," she said. She was practically radiating with pride. Or smug arrogance; Natalie couldn't decide which. Both Audra and James had asked for Ivy to be on the account? That couldn't be.

"They've invited the both of you to their office for lunch to discuss handing off the account from you to Ivy," Graham spoke, still avoiding eye contact. "I'm sure Audra and James will express their utmost gratitude to you, Natalie. And in the event Ivy needs a second chair on the account I'll trust you'll be available."

"But don't worry!" Ivy leaned forward and briefly placed her hand on Natalie's. "I'm sure I'll have no difficulty filling your shoes, as you once filled mine."

Whatever Graham said next fell on deaf ears. Natalie felt like she had been glued to her spot. Ivy knew Audra and James? They personally asked for Ivy to replace her on their account? Her eyes and cheeks burned as she held back the hot rush of embarrassment and anger that threatened to erupt. How did they even know Ivy was in town? Was she friends with them outside of work? James never said anything...

'I can talk to Graham Martin.'
His words from just the previous day. Was this James' doing? Could he have done this after she specifically asked him-

A deluge of warm liquid was suddenly seeping through her clothing as the hand that held her coffee went flying into her chest, snapping Natalie out of her internal thought process.

"Oh, shit!" someone exclaimed. Natalie looked up to find Ivy's hands covering her mouth in surprise. "Oh, dear, I am so sorry!"

What was left of Natalie's coffee was now soaking into her J Crew button down and starting to seep into her bra. "What the?"

"I'll go get you some towels from the bathroom," Ivy offered as she headed out the door.

"What's with you?" Quinn asked as she tugged off Natalie's blazer. "You didn't notice the full-sized adult literally falling into you?"

"I-" Natalie sighed, growing more irritated by the moment. "No I was distracted. She
fell
into me?"

"Tripped over your bag on the floor." Quinn gave her a stern look. "Luckily Martin left to take a conference call in his office. Honestly Natalie you need to get your shit together. You can't be staring off into space like a lost little girl while the new chick chats my ears off about how fantastic a tennis player Audra Robertson is."

Natalie's chin quivered. Between the lack of sleep, getting kicked off the account, the ruined shirt, Quinn's chastising and the drama going on with James she was starting to lose it. Her eyes started to fill with warm tears ready and willing to spill down to her cheeks. Quinn took possession of her face with both hands and looked her square in the eye.

"Natalie Harlow don't you dare cry," she whispered. She glanced at the doorway to make sure nobody could see the spectacle going on inside. "You will keep your chin up, smile, and get through the rest of this day without making a spectacle of yourself. Do you understand?"

Natalie swallowed back her emotion and nodded. Quinn was right. Work was never the time or place to let personal drama - imagined or otherwise - affect her. She would get through the rest of her work day and then go home and sleep herself back into normalcy. All she needed was a clear head, and a good night of rest was the solution.