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words to describe how I am feeling. How am I feeling? Yes, I’m ashamed. And so you should be my subconscious interjects waving her finger at me. I’m lusting after my boss. I know I may have a very different idea of how people perceive their own sexual encounters, but I have rules––may not have the bar set highly, but I have some rules all the same.
    My amethyst ring finds itself rotating rapidly around my middle finger of my right hand. Jessie has been like my sister for what seems like forever, she has witnessed me at my good, and at my bad. She knows me inside and out. I’m confident she will have the right answer to my problem. She always does.
    Sucking in a few deep breaths, I lift my head many times as I ready myself to spill my guts all over the dining room floor, but hesitation freezes me in my tracks. Do I really want to know what Jessie thinks? My body is a trembling mess, adrenaline progresses its way rapidly throughout my system. It’s just like a Band-Aid, Samantha. Rip. It. Off. Quickly.
    Bite the Bullet, Sammy, bite the bullet.
    “Jess, I need your help,” I mutter through my reluctance. My voice cracks under the depressing forethought of the consequences this problem could quite possibly precede to. I timorously peek up at her compassionate and altruistic features. Her chestnut hair falling like a veil around her shoulders, her bangs swept to the left side of her brow, her emerald eyes are flared and brimming with concern.
    Where would I possibly be without her? She’s my best friend, my roommate and my therapist all in one. I sigh privately as my predicament hangs over me like a tropical rain cloud, waiting to release its contents.
    “It’s about my boss.”
    HAYDEN
    “I’m off now, Mr. Wentworth.”
    Chloe stands at the threshold of my office, her purse nestled under her right arm as she continues to fumble with the waist tie of her black trench coat.
    She taps her right index finger against the fingertips of her left hand, counting the duties that she has accomplished before leaving. “I have photocopied and filed the correspondence that’s to be sent out tomorrow, and shut everything off.”
    “Thank you, Chloe. And thank you for your help, in regards to showing Miss Kennedy the ropes. I really appreciate it,” I murmur, curling the corner of my mouth into a weak, but sincere smile. “And the company will, too, in the long run.” My eyes tightening, as my heart rate accelerates. My palms begin to feel moist from perspiration as the visualization of Miss Kennedy’s come-and-get-me smile invades my mind.
    I secretly snicker, allowing a vicarious grin to revive my thrilled expression which I displayed the entire time Samantha was here, and had then abated along with her presence as she left for the day. I reflect back, the involuntary image of her skirt hitching provocatively up her lower thigh, the way she sunk her teeth into the plump flesh of her lip, her eyes scorching with untold desires as she swayed her crossed leg enticingly back-and-forth.
    She is such a tease.
    She has seemed to have provoked feelings in me that I can’t surmount or repress. One day she has been here in my presence, and I already have her body and her luring movements burned into my mind like a pyrography artist burns his images into the finest oak.
    “Goodnight, Mr. Wentworth.”
    “Goodnight, Chloe. See you tomorrow.”
    And in half a minute less than no time, I am alone once more, behind my desk, wondering what Samantha is doing right now? I relieve myself of a galling breath and push my body back into the leather chair, mechanically bounce against the suspension.
    My elbows rest comfortably on the leather-sheathed arms, my fingers locked. Although its distance seems noticeably afar, I find myself gaping at the burgundy chair which occupies the large open space in front of the desk. I rest my mouth against the pads of my thumbs.
    That woman; that magnificently, alluring woman. She has me completely