Unorthodox Therapy (3 page)

The first time Thomas opened the door for me I gave him a look of bewilderment and irritation as if he had thrown a cup of coffee in my face. He was just as shocked by my words when I told him I was his boss, not some girl he could go to bed with, so his “gentleman” charades weren't necessary. However, he turned out to be more stubborn than I thought and insisted on his routines. I gave up in the end and allowed him to open doors, pull out my chairs, carry my luggage on business trips etc. The truth was I loved it. Not that I’d ever admit it to his face.

“And you're not one of those guys who lament that they're not getting laid because they're too 'nice'?”

“I don't complain.” He grinned and adjusted his glasses. They were new and really looked great on him. “I do certain things because traditions tend to die if we forget about them.”

“Oh, traditions?” Damn, I missed bickering with him. Ever since Thomas had officially been transferred to the Android/iOS department, we’d had fewer excuses to spend time together and argue about everything under the sun. “Perhaps we should continue with human sacrifices as well? They're also an ancient tradition.”

He chuckled and reached out to place the lighter in my pocket.

“Are you saying you sacrifice your proud feminist soul by accepting my help? Anyway, like I said, I enjoy making women smile, making them a little bit happier about their day. And if they wish to extend their happiness and allow me to truly take care of them at night, it’s just a bonus.” His smile was carefree but I swore I could see the gleam in his gaze again. Was it just me or was that… lust?

Oh, get over yourself. He's too young.

I kept on smoking quietly and regarded him for a long time. Nobody would ever say Thomas was a ladies’ man, let alone a wet dream. He was nothing special in the looks department, with a slim, pale face and thin features. The most attractive part of his visage was his vibrant green eyes. They had not been so easy to notice when we met. He used to wear some horrible parody of glasses like a magnifier, with thick, tortoiseshell frames. Less than a year later, he’d switched to a more elegant model. It complimented his face and made him look more attractive. He was taller than me, but had been so thin that I’d worried he had an eating disorder or was malnourished.

My gaze slid down to his body and lingered there longer than employer ethics allowed. Since those first awkward days, he’d matured into a man with a well-toned runner’s physique, lean musculature and lithe arms and legs. According to him, it happened with the help of a proper diet and gruesome physical exercise but it was worth every minute spent in the gym. The white, open collar shirt and blue designer jeans he’d chose to wear showed the best of his figure. In a short, embarrassing moment, I realized I was taking mental pictures of him naked and quickly looked away. Hopefully, he hadn't noticed.

Given all those advantages, Thomas was not your typical office hunk. There were more handsome and charismatic men working for me, and yet, for some reason, most of the women in my company adored him. I had no idea whether he was sleeping with any of them. Maybe it was his pleasant personality and charm or the fact he treated everyone with respect. He was helpful without being condescending or imposing. Still, it was difficult to figure out what made him so popular.

“...even if I don't approve of some of the things that make them happy.”

“I'm sorry, what?” The embarrassment hit me like a heatwave when he realized I hadn’t been listening to him at all. Oh, damn it, he was just a kid, eleven years younger than me. The very fact I’d thought of him naked was borderline pedophilia.

I was not quite old enough to be his mother, but still...

“I was just stating the obvious.” Thomas shrugged and looked at me with concern. “You're still deeply hooked, aren't you?”

“And you love rubbing it in my face.” I snorted. “Thomas, listen. I started smoking in high school and never slowed down. I've been an active smoker for twenty years. Trust me, I’ve tried everything.” My voice turned desperate. I finished the cigarette and stubbed it against the rail. “I'll kill you if you tell anyone about this but I even paid some crook 1K to hypnotize me. I should just give it up and accept I'm an addict.” I looked down and crossed my arms over my chest. “I don't want to be a messy wench who falls apart because she doesn’t have her nicotine fix. At least when I smoke I go back to my normal self.”

Thomas nodded with understanding. I read some sympathy in his gaze and felt grateful he didn't say anything more. That was another reason I missed him so much as my assistant. He always knew what to say and when to stay silent.

Just as well as he knew when to read my thoughts.

“When are you going to accept my invitation, Lina?” Who knew why, but each time he uttered my name with his soft, calm voice, it made me feel warm and I melted on the inside. “It's been four years since I bought the house and you never came to see it.”

“I'm not sure it's a good idea.”

“Just for an hour or so. We will have some wine and talk about life outside of ChaosTech.” He moved closer to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “You know what? Just come tonight. 8.30 PM. I won't take no for an answer this time.”

The warmth of his steady fingers through the silk of my blouse was like the kiss of the sunbeams – subtle yet palpable. I stared into his gentle eyes and reasoned that nothing bad would happen if I saw him outside of work. It dawned on me how much I missed our talks after business hours. They used to happen due to extra work or when he stayed to practice his coding skills. The pleasant company was more of a bonus. How would I handle spending time with Thomas in a casual environment?

“Seriously, you could find better ways to have fun on a Friday night.” I used the voice of a well-intentioned schoolteacher. “Why not invite some pretty girl instead of having wine with an old woman?”

“Shh!” He squeezed my shoulder tighter and shook his head in disapproval. “I don't want to hear any of this “old woman” crap anymore. You're in your prime. Now, if you're done poisoning yourself, I suggest we go back inside. You’ll knock ‘em dead this afternoon. I’ll expect you to join me tonight for some of your favorite wine.” Thomas let go of me and gave me a playful wink. “Who knows, we may make a tradition out of this. See you around, boss. I'll text you the address.”

He walked away from the fire escape and left me alone with my confused emotions. A little innocent drink wouldn't hurt, would it? Maybe it would be good if I weren't alone tonight.

I cleaned up after myself and went back inside, refreshed and ready for battle. As I walked past the Android/iOS department, I caught sight of Thomas talking to one of our new employees, a beautiful girl and a promising designer. He was leaning next to her desk, pointing at the computer screen. She was glowing and laughing at something he said.

I shook my head and once again, I wondered how he did it. Quite a change from the awkward, skinny kid with weird hair who showed up at my office for an interview all those years ago.

CHAPTER TWO

Thomas

The moment I first laid eyes on Lina Riley, she became etched in my memory like a stamp. I could evoke the exact sensations that passed through my body during that August afternoon seven years ago. The incandescence spread through me and completely wiped away my intelligence and logic. The civilized behavior cultivated in my psyche from an early age faded away in favor of a primal heat wave of lust. Even today, I had no idea how I succeeded in restraining my desires, so powerful they could break the inhibitions of a monk. True, I had been a horny teenager during our first meeting, a virgin at the age of eighteen. Still, my usual fantasies and lust were nothing compared to my painful attraction to her. I’d wanted her since the moment we said hello.

The idea that our lives were determined by forces higher than ourselves made me roll my eyes. I believed we forged our own luck and destiny, and held the key to our happiness or misfortune. Anything else was just an excuse used by weak individuals to justify their mistakes. In spite of my convictions, I had the instant feeling our paths were supposed to cross. Lina was meant to change my life.

She’d made me sweat a lot during that fateful morning at her office. Back then, ChaosTech Solutions was a rising star in the cutthroat world of software development. It would have taken Lina one more year before the company could afford to establish its current headquarters at Palo Alto. The old office was situated in a small, cookie cutter business building in the downtown area of San Francisco. I walked out of the elevator on the eleventh floor and faced a long, nondescript hallway lined with uniform doors of light wood. It took me five minutes to find the name and number given to me by the girl I talked on the phone with. The bad premonition hit me as soon as I pressed the intercom button. Some young woman in her early twenties with a poorly tailored, ill-fitting parody of a suit opened the door and stared at me with an empty expression. She was pretty and I certainly wouldn't have kicked her out of bed, but the lack of any spark of life whatsoever in her blue eyes was a huge turn-off. The chewing gum bouncing in her wide-open mouth reminded me of a ruminating cow. Her massive tits also added to the image in my head. It took her nearly a minute to process my words when I told her I was there for a job interview for personal assistant. Finally, Miss Bright Mind gave me something resembling a smile and turned around, wiggling her ass in a pathetic attempt to impersonate a porn film secretary.

“Ah, yeah, the boss said you'd come. She'll be late, ya know? Come 'ere.”

She was wiggling her hips, as if trying to make me look at her ass but the sight was ridiculous. I tried to amuse myself with some lame fantasy in which I disciplined her for her lackluster attitude, but it was impossible to find even the slightest thrill. Besides, her seductive hip movements reminded me of someone who had been kicked out of porn star school. Bimbos weren't my thing.

It was more important to look around and get a feel for the place. The area through which the girl led me was small but it was optimally used. There were ten to fifteen desks in the open-plan office. I noticed a door with a sign saying Server Room and an improvised kitchen/break room section at the opposite end of the main hall with a sliding glass door. Two guys who looked a few years older than me were talking enthusiastically over a cup of coffee. To my relief, the men and women at their desks looked very casual, their clothes mostly jeans, hoodies, t-shirts, and sneakers. They were pretty similar to my own style. My decision not to dress up too much for the interview turned out to be wise.

All I could hope was that I’d land the job. I was running out of time and the despair was enough to make me accept anything. A paycheck was a paycheck even if the idea of answering phone calls, writing reports and making coffee was less than appealing to me. There was always the possibility of taking out a student loan. Or shooting myself in the head.

The office girl took me out of the main area down a narrow, well-lit hallway. I didn’t read the name on the door at the end of it. I assumed a genius tech-head with big dreams and aspirations would carry out my interview, someone who saw ChaosTech Solutions as the next big thing. Who knew? Perhaps working at this small, insignificant company might really be my big chance.

“'ere. She said you wait inside.” The girl opened the door for me and stood with a hand on her hip at the entrance. She studied me with expressionless orbs without stopping the awkward movement of her jaw. Her earlier attempt at flirting was gone. “If ya need anything, I'll be down there at my desk. Ya want some coffee or something?”

“Erm, no.” I checked the time on my cell phone and turned my eyes back to her. “Do you know how long I'll have to wait? I’ve got another interview in two hours.”

“How the hell should I know?” she snapped and drummed her tacky red nails on the door. “She'll be back when she'll be back. Do I look like a fortune teller?”

Damn! This company really needed to look at its hiring policy. The bimbo slammed the door behind me and I thanked my lucky stars I’d been relieved of her presence.

The office wasn't large but its minimalistic design seemed to increase the size of the room. It was pristine, clean and neat, devoid of any personal items or signs showing what the inhabitant might be like. Well, except the fact they were clearly a control freak. There was just a large, ergonomic desk with a computer, phone and several plastic case holders on it, a black executive leather chair, a comfortable matching couch and a coffee table in front of it. One of the walls was entirely occupied by a bookcase and storage file boxes.

Lina hadn't changed her style much since those days. Her sense of order was one of the things I’d grown to like so much about her.

Twenty minutes later, I had been bored to death. Even the beautiful view through the panoramic window couldn't distract me. The person who called me for an interview had clearly set me up for a big joke. I had better things to do with my time than pacing back and forth, waiting in vain. Finally, I rested on the couch and wondered whether it would be wiser if I left.

The door opened and the sexiest female voice I'd ever heard caressed my ears, startling me from the couch. She had a low, sultry voice, like a melancholy jazz singer in a forties club. The raspy notes caused the hairs on my neck to rise and the blood to rush straight between my legs. Good thing I was wearing baggy jeans so my erection wasn't visible. Wait, what? Was I hard already? No woman had ever gotten me turned on by merely speaking.