Iris

Once I composed myself in Garrett's office—Mr. James, I reminded myself—I whipped out my phone and sent a text to Ivy.

"Did you forget to mention something about Paul?"

Just typing his name made my stomach churn. I might be a virgin, but I'd been kissed before. A few times. Okay, twice. The first time wasn't bad. Mostly chaste fumbling and teeth knocking. The second time was so hot I fully expected it to escalate to cherry popping. It would have if his fiancé hadn't walked through the door wearing only a trench coat. Plot twist—she knew about me and was hoping for a threesome.

My phone dinged. A single horrified emoji told me everything I needed to know. Three dots danced across the screening, then disappeared. Five seconds passed before they popped up again. Knowing Ivy well enough to know she was going to type and retype her answer several times, I took the opportunity to look around the office.

Unfortunately, nothing of any genuine interest caught my eye. The space, while welcoming, was bland and generic. Cream walls and taupe drapes over floor to ceiling windows that offered a beautiful view of downtown. The flooring was a vinyl plank that mimicked honey toned hardwoods, and a single, plush tan rug sat dead center between a basic black set of armchairs. Behind his tidy desk was a black bookshelf. Most people might use the space to put photo frames, nicknacks, or even diplomas. Not Garrett. His actually housed books—massive tomes on marketing and how to be a modern leader.

The door opened just as I typed out a demand to hurry up, forcing me to shove my phone in my pocket and hope he wouldn't request too many details. Dress shoes clicked across the hard floors, and the springs in his chair squeaked as he lowered his tall frame into it. I rolled my lips together and searched for the cool confidence my sister always seemed to carry, but when I looked down and spied a bit of lacy black bra peeking out through a gap caused by a missing button in my blouse, the hard task became impossible.

Garrett cleared his throat, and I swung my eyes back to his face. Was it the lighting in the room or were his cheeks red? It had to be the lighting because it was affecting his eyes, too. The forest green shade I'd spent more hours attempting to describe on a page than I would ever admit to anyone out loud was darker than normal and almost swallowed entirely by his pupils.

"First," he began, threading his hands together and setting them on top of his desk. The movement caused his rolled sleeves to shift slightly higher, exposing more of his toned, tan forearms. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." I was... as long as I didn't think about the way he rubbed his crotch against mine. Or groped my breasts. Or forced his tongue between my lips.

"Ivy."

Me. Garrett was addressing me. "Really."

Chair creaking as he leaned back, he fixed me with a look that said he didn't believe me. Jaw clenching, he rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled. "You'll have to meet with Mary in HR. Since he's been terminated, we need to make sure this is all handled above board."

"Yes, sir." Blowing out a shaky breath, I asked, "Will I be fired?"

He flinched. "Technically, our company policy permits dating between employees as long as there isn't a power imbalance, and as long as there isn't a conflict of interest, you don't even have to disclose the relationship. I'm assuming the relationship ended when Paul joined the Admin department because that would be a problem since you're an Admin II and his senior."

"Of—of course." I sincerely hoped it had ended before today, and in true Ivy fashion, she didn't give Paul the memo.

"Then, no. There will be no actions taken against you." Garrett picked up a pen and flipped it between his fingers, his unfocused gaze turned toward the windows. "And even if you hadn't, I want you to understand you're the victim here, Ivy. You said no, and he didn't listen."

"Thank you." 

I truly meant it. Even though this entire situation was messed up because Paul didn't know he was trying to kiss a stranger, Garrett was right. If he had stopped when I said no, he would still have his job.

A low rumble in his throat sent a tremor through me that started at the base of my neck and ended right between my legs. It was the closest thing I'd ever heard to a man growling before. Dear lord. I would need a new vibrator by the end of this ruse because there was no way I wasn't going straight home to take it out of the drawer and make myself come while replaying that sound over and over.

"Mr. James?"

"You shouldn't have to thank me, Ivy. No woman fucking should. I did the bare minimum by firing him."

The bare minimum was firing a man? Good god. What did going the extra mile look like for Garrett James? No, I warned myself. Don't go there.

"I should get back to work. There's a lot to catch up on after being out yesterday."

He nodded, and I stood, making another attempt to straighten my disheveled appearance. Maybe I could fix the gap in the blouse with a paperclip.

"Ivy, wait."

I pulled my hand off the door handle and looked over my shoulder. He came from around the desk and stopped less than a foot away from me. Close enough for me to smell the spicy notes of his aftershave.

"What?"

Looking at the ceiling, he muttered something before lowering his eyes to meet mine. "You can do better than someone like Paul."

We stared at one another for almost a full minute until at last I nodded. Swallowing hard, I opened the door and ran for Ivy's cubicle, and I didn't poke my head out again the entire day.