Filthy Headlines by Cassie Mint

Author:Cassie Mint [Mint, Cassie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Cherry Publishing
Published: 2021-08-18T18:30:00+00:00

Eight

Grant

I stop the treadmill as soon as the elevator ping floats down the corridor. For once, I’m dressed to run in gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt, but I sniff myself carefully before striding out of my office.

She’s on time. She always is. I know Sasha’s movements now better than I know my own.

8am: step out of the elevator.

8:30: knock on my office door, with a coffee in one hand and her planner in the other, ready to go over the meetings for the day.

Normally, by 8:30, I’m sitting at my desk, studiously not watching the door and clicking through emails. But today, I can’t wait the thirty minutes for her to come find me. I set off down the corridor, pulse tapping in my throat.

“Sweatpants, huh?” She smiles at me, sly. Her hair is half-down today, and my fingers itch to run through it. “Must be a special occasion. I thought you wore suits for everything.”

“I do.” I don’t stop at her desk, prowling around the side of it. “To sleep. To shower. You name it.”

She looks smaller than usual down there, when I’m standing over her. That pert little nose is level with my waistband, and a primal part of me wants to cup the back of her head and grind her face against where I’m already stiffening.

“There it is,” she breathes as I take the arms of her desk chair and spin her to face me. Her plump lips tug up at the corner. “A suit addiction. The real Grant Keller scandal.”

“Take it to your grave.”

She draws a solemn cross over her chest, the swell of her breasts so plump and inviting through her thin blouse. And fuck, why was I such an ass to her last night? When she called me, I practically bit her head off. It’s been bothering me ever since, a snide voice whispering in my head that I’ve screwed it up, and she’ll never want to call me on a whim again.

“I’m sorry for being a dick.”

She chokes out a laugh. “Can you narrow that down?”

“I’m sorry for being short when you called last night.”

Her forehead creases. She did notice, then. “What was wrong?”

Here goes nothing. Better to get it out there; clear the air. Let her know where I stand.

“I saw you. On your date.”

She jerks back, startled, and I straighten up, raising my palms.

“I wasn’t following you. Nothing creepy, I promise. But you’ve got me hooked on these stupid coffees, and I walked over there after work, and saw you sitting there with him. The, uh. The old guy. You two looked pretty cozy.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Simon’s not old.”

Fuck. That’s the part she’s denying? Jealousy flares in my chest, hot and hungry, and I tamp it down with effort. But when I speak, my words are sharper. I’m only human.

“He’s too old for you, that’s for fucking sure.”

“He’s forty. You’re thirty five.”

“What do I have to do with it?”

She gives me a look. “Grant. Give me a break.”

And this has gone off the rails.

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