Meeting the Woman from the Desk

Anya gripped the oversized ceramic mug, letting the searing heat of the dark roast ground her in the moment. She stared at the illuminated screen monitor on her desk. Her eyes stung from the harsh blue light. A cascade of urgent emails demanded her immediate attention, accompanied by a towering mountain of beige folders threatening to topple over her keyboard. She had been a chronic overachiever since childhood, devouring books and crushing academic goals with a relentless drive. Because of that ingrained work ethic, watching people slack off on company time made her blood boil.

Darius Blackwood was the ultimate offender. The chairman’s only son treated the massive corporate empire like his personal playground. He coasted on his family name while expecting his subordinates to pick up the slack.

She scrolled through the first email thread. Her exhausted brain moved at a sluggish pace. A drawn-out sigh escaped her lips. She dragged her free hand down her face, rubbing the lingering sleep from her gritty eyes.

"Why is my brain not working?" she muttered to the empty air of her cubicle.

She needed to process the quarterly projections, but a distinct, unwanted image burned through her concentration. The explicit memory from the night before flashed behind her eyelids. Dare’s naked ass thrusting on the wooden desk. The raw, unfiltered sight of the CEO pounding into a woman right there in his office had branded itself into her retinas. The sheer audacity of the act made her stomach twist.

"Stupid Dare and his naked ass," she hissed under her breath.

She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes, listening to the ambient noise of the floor. The clock ticked steadily on the plaster wall. Keyboards clattered in neighboring cubicles. A cell phone buzzed against a hard surface, shattering her momentary attempt at peace.

She dropped her hands and wheeled her cheap office chair closer to the edge of the desk. She unlocked her screen and read a new text message from her boss.

Nolan: Boardroom. Now.

"Shit." Anya breathed the curse into the quiet space.

She stared at the towering stack of paperwork for a split second before snapping into motion. She took two massive, scalding gulps of her coffee, grabbed her lined notepad, and hurried out of the department. She power-walked toward the sleek elevator bank and pressed the button for the eighteenth floor.

The metal doors slid open, depositing her onto the exact floor where she had witnessed the obscene act just hours prior. Her heart launched into a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The pristine hallway seemed to mock her. She forced herself to swallow the rising lump of nerves in her throat. She needed to behave and remain strictly professional. Confronting Dare about using company property to have sex with a random woman would achieve nothing. It would only humiliate her and jeopardize the crucial separation pay she desperately needed once her resignation went through.

She pushed open the heavy mahogany doors of the massive boardroom.

Nolan looked up from his digital tablet. "Anya, what took you so long?"

She scanned the expansive room. Milton, the department head, sat near the projector. Greta, the CFO’s assistant, arranged a stack of financial reports. Dare was nowhere in sight.

A massive wave of relief washed over her tense shoulders. She slipped into the leather corner seat closest to Nolan. She flipped open her notepad and clicked her pen, ready to take the meeting minutes.

Milton and Greta launched into a petty, drawn-out argument over the latest quarter profits. Their voices faded into a dull, droning hum. Anya’s mind detached from the bickering. A heavy wave of exhaustion crashed into her system. She fought the overwhelming urge to cross her arms on the cool table and let sleep pull her under.

She covered her mouth to stifle a massive yawn. Before her heavy eyelids could shut for good, the heavy boardroom door swung open.

Dare strolled into the room.

Anya stiffened. Her spine snapped straight against the back of her chair. The man was undeniably handsome. He possessed towering height, chiseled cheekbones, and tousled dark brown hair that looked like he had just rolled out of a messy bed. His commanding, arrogant presence instantly sucked the air out of the large space.

Looking at him brought the disturbing memory rushing back with vicious clarity. She pictured him hovering over the desk. She pictured the woman named Sienna. She pictured Sienna's naked ass pressed against the polished wood while Dare took her.

Anya squeezed her eyes shut to banish the jarring thoughts.

The room fell into a dead silence. Lost in the graphic playback of the previous night, Anya didn't notice the sudden quiet until a sharp voice pierced her bubble.

"Ms. Mercer?" Greta called her name loud enough to echo off the walls.

Anya flinched and opened her eyes. Dare was staring right at her. His striking grey eyes locked onto her face with predatory amusement.

"Ah… I'm sorry. What was the question?" Anya stammered. The heat rushed to her cheeks.

Dare moved toward the elegant white couch and took a seat. He crossed his long legs, lounging with an air of pure entitlement. A smug smirk formed on his flawless face.

"There's no question, Ms. Mercer. You just suddenly looked like you’ve seen a ghost."

Not a ghost. Your naked ass. Anya kept the bitter thought locked safely behind her teeth.

Dare let out a low grunt. His lips stretched into a lopsided smile. "And did you think of it more often, Ms. Mercer?"

Anya swallowed hard. She reached up and adjusted the frame of her glasses on the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry, Mr. Blackwood, did I think more often about what?"

He held her gaze for an uncomfortably long moment. "Leaving the company."

Her tense shoulders drooped. A small sigh of relief escaped her mouth. She hadn't been caught thinking about his office tryst. Then, the reality of his words set in. Her irritation flared hot and fast. She snapped her head toward Nolan.

Nolan shifted in his chair, avoiding her direct glare. "I told Darius about your intention to quit."

Anya slumped back into her seat, digging her manicured nails into her palms. Why would Nolan tell the CEO? Dare did not run the Human Resources department. Nolan was her direct manager. Her resignation plan was a private matter between the two of them, and Dare had zero business knowing about it.

Dare leaned forward. His smile turned mocking. "Cat got your tongue?"

Anya forced the corners of her mouth up into a rigid, fake smile. "I'm not really—"

"Hush." Dare waved his hand in a dismissive, arrogant gesture. He cut her off before she could even finish her defense. He shifted his attention to Nolan. "You and I will talk about it in a separate discussion."

Anya ground her teeth together. The sheer disrespect made her blood boil.

Dare looked over at Greta, his tone dropping into a demanding bark. "And where the fuck is Lerman? Isn't he supposed to be here? I missed another engagement for this, but here I am."

Greta cleared her throat. "He’s in a conference call with your father."

Dare scoffed and turned his focus to the department head. "Milton. Fill me in on the suppliers’ meeting you had the other day. Start the report."

Milton scrambled to his feet and began projecting data slides onto the screen. Dare stood up from the plush couch and walked over to the seat closest to the front board. He turned around, presenting his broad, tailored back to the rest of the room.

Anya glared at the back of his expensive suit jacket. She seethed at his embarrassing arrogance. He loved to parade his power around, treating his employees like disposable pawns.

Nolan leaned close to her shoulder. He kept his voice down to a quiet, conspiratorial whisper. "Anya. Step out and call a Mr. Larson for me. We need to reschedule the upcoming meeting to two o'clock."

She nodded, deeply grateful for the excuse to escape the suffocating tension of the boardroom.

Anya slipped out of her leather chair. She kept her footsteps light as she crossed the carpeted floor. She grabbed the brass handle of the heavy boardroom door and pushed it open in a wide, hurried arc.

She stepped into the hallway and crashed hard into a solid figure.

A gasp tore from her throat as she stumbled backward. The person she hit let out a startled yelp. A sleek mobile phone clattered onto the polished marble tiles.

Anya regained her footing and looked up. A tall, gorgeous redhead stood in front of her. The woman wore a tight white pencil skirt that clung to her curves and showcased her long, slender legs.

Panic spiked in Anya's chest. She dropped to a crouch to retrieve the fallen phone from the floor.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" Anya babbled, holding out the device.

The redhead took the phone with a gentle grip. "I'm fine! How about you? Are you okay? I am so sorry."

They both spoke over each other in a frantic rush of apologies.

Anya shook her head, feeling the embarrassed heat rise to her cheeks. "Totally my fault! I should have watched where I was going."

The redhead let out a soft, melodic laugh. She brushed a strand of fiery hair over her shoulder and adjusted her designer blouse. "No. Trust me, it's me. I'm such a klutz."

The woman reached down and pinned a plastic name badge back onto the fabric of her chest.

Anya looked down to read the printed letters on the tag. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her eyes widened as the bold letters formed a name she had heard just hours ago. A name directly tied to the graphic, obscene act etched into her memory.

Anya looked back up at the woman's flawless face. Her voice dropped into a stunned whisper. "…Sienna?"

The gorgeous redhead offered a sweet, innocent smile. "That's right. Sienna Lockwood."

A cold shock rooted Anya to the spot. She stared at the beautiful woman standing in the hallway. This was her. This was the exact same woman she had seen getting fucked by Dare on the desk.