Free Layers: Book One by Tl Alexander Page B

took a quick peek at her watch. I didn’t want her to leave but I knew I had to relieve my numb, yet aching dick before I’d become permanently disabled. She stood and gave me her hand. Then I thought… shit. I can’t stand with an erect tent pole. So I gave her my hand and remained seated like a manner-less horny jerk. We said our ‘goodbyes’ and she walked to the door. She opened it and took a step out, then turned around. She hesitated for a moment and then said. “I hope that the next time we meet it won’t be as painful.” At that point she raised a knowing brow and walked out of my office.
    I’ve learned more about her over the last two years but it’s never enough. She never talks about her past. All I know is that she was born in New York then moved to Scotland then London. I asked her about her parents and she said her grandmother raised her and her sister Sam after their parents were killed in an auto accident. That’s it, that’s all I got. Every time I bring up her past she either ignores me or tries to distract me. And I must say she’s a damn good distractor.
    And fuck me—she has a photographic memory. I discovered this just months after her employment. I’d asked her to accompany me to Moscow as my translator. I know what you’re thinking but remember a guy’s just doing what he’s got to do. On the flight over I gave her a run down on the Russians and, the company that I wanted to acquire.
    She asked to see the company figures. As the head of Risk Management it’s all about the numbers for her. I handed over my laptop and watched as she scanned over the figures very briefly. She handed my laptop back then pulled out her laptop and started on some other work.
    I had assumed that the figures had bored her or that she just wasn’t interested in knowing more about the acquisition. However, during the meeting the Russians asked about a figure and before I could look it up she quoted it back to the penny. I gave her a what the hell look? She just lifted a perfect brow and brushed it aside like it was nothing. Throughout the meeting she continued to quote numbers from memory.
    On the flight back, I asked her about it. “Alexia, how did you know those figures?”
    “I went over them.”
    “Yeah, like for two seconds.”
    She just shrugged her shoulders.
    “You have a photographic memory?”
    She looks up from her laptop. “With numbers,” she says.
    “Just numbers?”
    “Sort of,” she answers and continues with her work.
    “Sort of?” I ask and she looks up at me again and sighs.
    “Mostly with numbers but with more effort, text as well.”
    “That’s incredible,” I answer in awe.
    Remember the part where I said I wanted her and was going to have her. I gave her a month to settle in before I made my first move. I had no clue what that first move was going to be. Yeah, right you say? Well it’s true—I have never pursued a woman before. Well, unless you count Maryann Wilkins in the ninth grade. I was a freshman—she was a senior. I was a virgin —she put out. I’m sure you can guess where this is going.
    Let’s just say a week later I was no longer living on Virgin Island and she moved to a chain of islands known as the Multiple Orgasms.
    If you’ve never been the pursuer, you probably have no pick-up skills. So my first move really blew—and not my way. I thought the best way to handle the situation was to just tell the truth—lay all my cards on the table. So I walked into Lex’s office one afternoon and said—“I want you and you want me. So tonight, let’s say around seven.” Fucking Brilliant, right? I bet you’re thinking she got mad and threw me out, then threatened to sue my ass. You would be wrong my friend. She laughed her ass off. I mean she all but fell to the floor and rolled around in hysteria. I didn’t find it funny at all. I didn’t let this show of course. I ha, ha’ed and slapped my knee a couple of times. I played along—but inside I was hurt