Daily Sagittarius Horoscope
June 14, 2010
One day, Sagittarius, the moments that you're living
now will be the good old days you'll look back to
in the future. It is up to you to make the most of
of these days so that the you to come will have
something to look back to. Carpi Diem, seize the day.
"Drinks at O'Thirsty's tonight you've been cordially invited!"
Emma took one of the headphones from her ipod out of her ear after some careful consideration to look at Rebecca and Marci. They'd just jumped into the elevator in the parking garage with her even though she'd done nothing to stall the elevators departure. She didn't really like to associate herself with people in the morning too much these days. Now Emma dragged her feet and meditated in the morning while she was on her way to the office. There were things about being there that made it intolerable. She sipped her milk spiked with vanilla extract and sweet cocoa.
"Excuse me?" She supplied.
Marci, a short black chick originally from New York with a thick accent smiled evenly at her. "Hey girl." She had a really raspy voice, the kind of voice Lauryn Hill had. She was always so laid back and dressed as casual as the office would allow. She wore bags slung over her opposite shoulder and had deep, pretty dimples.
Rebecca moved to stand on her other side and grinned down at her from her tall posture. Emma looked between the two of them and suddenly felt like she was in high school again. She shook her head. "Lance from financing's first born is becoming a man today," she confided casually but with a mischievous smile on her face. "We're all so excited."
Emma didn't hide her confusion. Why the hell would Rebecca bother to tell her that? Why would Rebecca even bother to tell her anything? They hadn't talked about the club or anything that happened after the club since she club. She assumed it was because Rebecca and she were grown and they could randomly see each other outside the office and still maintain the same professional relationship as before.
She could feel herself standing on edge as she inspected Rebecca. She had to calm down, she knew. A self-aware person could smell an overreaction a mile away. Her jitters and worries were all because of the overdrive she was going into for her chaotic problems with her boss. Rebecca and she had done nothing at the club to even make her tense about her mentioning Emma in a club environment. She had, as it happened, enjoyed seeing Rebecca at the club. She blinked back her suspicion and peered. "What? You're inviting me to a bar mitzvah in a bar?"
She felt Marci chuckle on the other side of her. Rebecca only shook her head. "I don't give a damn about the bar mitzvah. Drinks at O'Thirsty's is in celebration of it."
Emma shook her head. Contractors were always coming up with ways to party with people they worked with. They would use any little thing to go out for drinks. On the other side of the wall people were too concerned with bringing in big dollars to be concerned with O'Thirsty's. Emma didn't consider herself over the occasional event or two but she knew she couldn't attend.
Instead of accepting right away and offering thanks for the thought, she asked, "And I've been cordially invited by whom?"
"Me," Rebecca remarked. "On behalf of everyone else at the office who knows how to have a good time."
Marci giggled again and the elevator doors opened. Emma didn't like the way that Rebecca had said whatever it was she had said. They stepped out. Rebecca turned left with Emma and Marci went right to her desk. "You should come," she whispered to her. Emma turned to her, wondering why she was whispering. Was this some sort of 'Dead Poet's Society' of alcoholics where one had to be invited to be initiated, she thought. She frowned. "We're gonna have a good time. Bobby's gonna be there."
Was that supposed to make her go? Emma shrugged. "Maybe I will."
She knew she wouldn't even as she swiped her all access card to be admitted to the other side of the wall. Any setting that just so happened to be social and work related would not do for her. She wanted to stay as far as possible, these days, as it happened, from the people she worked with. Events like that were just asking for trouble.
She unlocked her office, grinning at passersby and stepped inside. She turned to her desk, her fluorescent light came to life.
There was a fishing rod propped up on her desk. Emma looked around the room peculiarly, like a surprise party would jump from under her desk. She approached the green, incredibly thin bamboo with caution, looking at the sporting equipment with disdain. She fished for days when she was younger, with her grandfather but she hadn't done it in years. She had no desire to do it and nothing about that activity with the company that had been chosen for her made her detest the bamboo stick rod.
She touched the stick curiously, after she put her stuff down.
"It's my old rod," someone announced from her door.
Trey wore a deep maroon button down that looked soft to the touch with a patterned gold and maroon tie and black slacks. His gold belt buckle and cufflinks shined like his gorgeous brown eyes did while they took their fill of her inspecting the object.
She looked at the rod and back at him in question. "How did you know I didn't have one?' she asked despite her good manners.
He shrugged and crossed one ankle over the other, leaning against her door jam. This was the first time Trey had ever ventured to her office. She suspected he didn't need to break and enter to get the rod in. Everyone that worked here, even the janitors, were smitten with his demeanor. They probably let in her office with no questions, allowing him to plant a bomb if he so chose.
He shrugged. "You don't seem like a fisher Emma."
He leaned off the wall and started back to his office. Emma hurried around her desk. That was the nicest he'd ever been to her. Even if the rod was a way for them to acquire an account. Intending to use this time to set a few ground rules and make her demands, she lifted her chin, sniffed once and followed. No more Miss' Nice Guy. She spotted him down the hall heading into his own office and she called after him calmly. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked when he turned to her. Good Lord, the scent of him was so delectable Emma had to stop herself almost a meter away from him.
Trey seemed to notice her action and smirk, nodding his head and motioning for her to go into his office before him. She stepped inside and turned just in time to see him close the door. "I assume you want privacy," he commented, walking around his desk to sit. His pointer finger went to the collar of his shirt and he tugged twice, giving his Adam's Apple a little wiggle room.
Emma nodded. "Yes," she started. Where to start? "Mr. Neverson, I appreciate this job... you letting me keep mine."
"Good," he said, shuffling things about on his desk.
She wished she had his undivided attention for a while. Then she realized it was always harder for her to talk to him if he was looking at her. As if he was reading her mind, he cut his eyes and her and stopped what he was doing, waiting for her to continue.
"And I would like to stay here."
One of his perfect eyebrows lifted.
"But I don't think there's a place for me here with our... work relationship the way it is," she blew out a breath of air as soon as the words were gone from her mouth. She felt hot. Her intention was to come in here and tell him that if he didn't get his act together she was packing up her desk and getting the hell on. But now her nerves were bad and she was second guessing whether not he would call her bluff or realize that he could never be as lucrative as he could be if she remained at his side.
She tried to remember if she'd taken her medication that morning. She felt even more jittery and uncertain when he sat back and regarded her with is complete and utter full attention. She felt like the walls were getting closer to her. Her palms started to sweat. Of course he could just fire her ungrateful ass and replace her with some hopeful twit from the other side of the wall. And then where would she be. She wouldn't gain any of the respect she was searching for, he would not take her ultimatum seriously, and she would be out of a job.
She got cold feet. "I-," she looked around. How could she fix this? "I don't have a swimsuit either."
Really Emma, she thought, so ashamed of herself she couldn't even look at him again. Is that the very best you can do?
Trey just looked at her for a minute. "A swimsuit?"
She nodded. Might as well pick up the fumbled ball and run with it. "Yes, a swimsuit. A-all my best fishing is done in a swimsuit and I don't have one." She felt like a fool. "I-I'll have to skip lunch to go and get one today." When he didn't say anything she added, "That's what I came to tell you."
"So," he said after a while. There was a teasing air to the way he said his words as he perched his head up on his thumb and pointer finger. She loved that pose. "What does our work relationship have to do with your swimsuit?"
Damnit. She hadn't thought of how she was going to cover that little slip up. "Well," she gulped. "I-I'm naturally going to have to have your approval of the suit. I can't wear just any old thing in front of my boss can I?" she make a sound that was supposed to be a laugh but sounded more like a chortle than anything else and looked down at her nails. "That's all," she mumbled, ashamed of her weakness. She was nothing, she felt. Selling her pride for a decent job and eye candy.
"You know what," she heard him say. He'd never used slang in the office. Emma looked at him curiously. "You such a bad liar." He was smiling.
That infuriated her. Did he have to know everything? Was he always supposed to be right? Still, what little pride she had left continued to guard all the lies she'd just told. She couldn't help looking back down at her nails. "I'm not lying," she mumbled.
"Oh yeah you lyin'," he said smugly. "I just don't know why." When she didn't say anything he sat up and tsked like he was disappointed in her. Emma was displeased at his domineering manner. She felt like she was some pupil of his and her lack of progress or lies had let him down. He grabbed the stack of papers and regarded them like they were more important than her. "But you're right. I should approve of your suit. You want me to come with you while you choose or something?" He was goading her.
"No," she snapped, despite herself. She sighed and let her eyes gaze at his amused ones only for a second. "I-I don't need your help."
"Ok. Do me a favor and check my faxes, I was looking for confirmation from someone in reference to Jimmy Blake's security policy. He's paying these people top dollar for that shit and he broke into his own damn house yesterday... called me pissed." He shook his head and laughed at his client. "Call Brinks Home Security and confirm my confirmation."
Emma nodded, sullen. "Ok," she mumbled. She'd been broken and she didn't like it. She was just about to leave when Trey caught her with another demand. He was so full of shit. She turned from the door and looked at him.
"Get with treasury and see about sending Sam Wade a bottle of some sort of wine. She likes the sauce..."
Emma saw red when she focused on him. He had not just asked her to get with treasury about sending a Wade a gift when she'd specifically asked for a company card month's ago to reward clients as she saw fit. And he'd told her no. He said that their budget was flexible and he wanted to keep it that way. Now he was telling her to get with someone to send a fucking gift.
Emma felt her own fingernails pressing into the palms of her hands. Her nostrils flared and she marched back up to his desk, surprising him into looking up at her. "Emma-."
"I would like for you to call me Miss Dubois," she spat, interrupting him for a change. She liked the feeling. Adrenaline ran thickly through her veins and she fed off of its rushing nature, her words leaving her mouth in the same rushed fashion. She was not about to let him run over her anymore. "I call you Mr. Neverson and you call me Miss Dubois."
"I-."
"And," she said, putting up a shaky finger. She put it down before he took notice of her nerves. Trey was a very observant person and Emma didn't want him to see that even though she was acting the part, he still sort of terrified her senses. Why is he still smiling, she thought. "And I have decided that I do a lot of good work here and," she gulped. How did she say what she wanted? "And I want you to start acting like I do!" She nodded once, proud of herself.
Trey sat back and put himself in that pose she loved; head on fingers and thumb. "I don't know what I did to you to make you hate me so much but whatever it is I offer my sincerest apologies. That however does not excuse your behavior." When did she start pacing? Her fingers pointed down at the ground every time she felt passionately about a word she was uttering at the time. Her feet marched back and forth in her blue, spike pumps. "Y-You," she said, turning to him and pointing an accusing finger, too far gone to stop herself at this point. "You should be ashamed of yourself!" Trey looked almost surprised at the accusation. "You abuse your power over other people!"
"I won't tolerate this anymore Mr. Neverson." She stopped square in the center of his desk and looked down at him from her high stance. "I want you to... to be nicer to me." She ended in a deflated manner. "Or... I quit."
Trey didn't say anything for a while and Emma couldn't look up at him. She couldn't. She was deathly afraid of what she would see when she did. What if he actually called her bluff and told her to have her office packed up by the end of the day? Emma's mind was already reeling about how she was going to make ends meet between her and her cat. Her house payments were cheap enough and her grandfather's car was paid for. But she wasn't ashamed to admit to herself that she'd grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle and she didn't want to give it up. Her pay raise, for replacing Susan, had been about an additional four hundred dollars a pay period. She'd bought more shoes this passing month than she'd bought food. As if needing further affirmation of that she looked down at her spiked Nine West pumps. They were gorgeous.
But it was more than that to her. She couldn't put up with the mental abuse her unruly boss inflicted on her anymore. She was starting to dread coming to work. And it was paying a toll on her work ethic. She couldn't focus on getting what she needed to get done because of her growing animosity for her employer. Maybe it would have been better if she'd just left instead of trying to fight to hold onto a job she couldn't stand.
Her pulse started to lessen in its intensity and her palms weren't secreting sweat anymore, now they were just sweaty. Her legs felt wobbly underneath her so she glanced behind her to ensure that a chair was there before she sat down. She was silently grateful that she'd taken her medication today. She wondered where the mood swing came from. Maybe it was her courses, it was her time of the month. Maybe it was the cross between Midal and her prescription medication.
"I don't want you to quit," he said, making Emma jump. She saw that Trey had seen her reaction to his abrupt words. He smiled at her. "And," he waited until Emma caught his eyes. Then he leaned forward and looked directly at her, into her. "I'm sorry."
Emma bit her bottom lip. Good Lord she felt like crying. That apology was such a huge accomplishment for her. She had been working really hard and putting forth all the effort she could. To know that he felt bad for making her days harder than that had to be was... touching. Maybe her emotions really were because of her time of the month.
"The night I met you, you ain't even say shit and you had personality to me baby."
Emma quirked her eyebrows and looked carefully at his grinning face.
"You was drunk as hell though, and you knew what you wanted. You were a tease."
"I was not!" she said before she could stop herself. Then she bit her lips and retreated back into the recesses of the back of her chair.
"Teased the fuck outta me. Wouldn't even tell me your name."
She couldn't deny that. She shrugged and folded her arms, sitting back farther and relaxing in her posture. She avoided his eyes again. "I remember," she mumbled.
"But I liked that either way." He stood and walked around his desk. Trey sat on the edge of his own desk and looked at her closely. She smelled his cologne wafting off of his because he sat in front of the air conditioner vent above the both of them on the ceiling. "Then when you met me here, you switched shit up so quick."
"I didn't do anything to you!"
His sheer masculine power tightened his arms in front of him. He looked edible to Emma. His swagger jumped out of his skin, making him casual sexy all the time, before Emma could even put up defenses against him. It made it almost difficult for her to keep up with the words coming out of his gorgeous mouth, she was so preoccupied with trying not to reach for him. "Either way you weren't who I met that night."
She couldn't deny that. She hadn't been herself around the office since he became her boss and that was very clear to almost everyone.
"To be honest, I didn't know how I was gonna work with you." Emma watched him look over her face in a gesture that was so tiny she didn't think she'd seen it until she had his eyes again and they gleamed mischievously at her. She wondered what he was thinking and squirmed slightly. "And if you wasn't finna be real, then neither was I." Then he crossed his arms more tightly over his chest. "I liked who I met Emma, Miss Dubois. I wanted to work with her."
Emma chewed on her tongue. Then she looked at him and sighed. "You could have just asked."
He smirked at her like he knew better. "Like I asked you for your name?"
"..."
"I wanna work with you," he said in that lovely voice. He said it slowly, deliberately in a way that made Emma think he wanted to ensure that she never misunderstood that about him again. Emma felt like it rubbed over her while she spoke. "Do you wanna work with me?"
Emma thought it over. She looked at his chocolate honey eyes and blinked passed her insane attraction to his Greek features and Olympic posture. She nodded.
"Good," he looked Emma over in a very inspective, piercing glance that she couldn't ask for translation for because it was so sexy she felt like she should have known. Her first impression was to bat her eyelashes back at him but his eyes had grabbed her again, damn them. They held her completely open to his discerning ones. "Cause I think we make a good team."
It had to be a come on. His brown orbs looked sort of deep brown like the aged barrel of a good port and deep. Rippled like sunsets on water. She felt hot down her spine right in the middle up her vortex. "Me too."
He chuckled at the little voice she was using and crossed his feet at the ankles. Then he uncrossed his arms and braced his hands on either side of him on the edge of the desk. He leaned forward a little. "Even better."
Emma was aware that's he was gripping the arms of her seat like a mad woman so she rubbed her hands over her pats and then stood, tucking hair behind her ear for the zillionth time that day. "Thank you for the fishing rod."
He grinned. "Don't mention it."
"I-I," she looked over his office again and then made her eyes look at him. He wasn't a bastard anymore and she had to stop avoiding contact with him if she hoped to make this new office of theirs work. "Call me Emma, Trey."
"Mr. Neverson will do."
She gaped at Trey and breathed a sigh of relief when he simply started chuckling. She couldn't help herself, she giggled a little too. It was nice to laugh in his office, she never even smiled in here. He looked gorgeous when he laughed though, Emma noted. His grin was set wide and he looked joyous all the way to his perfect eyes.
Emma felt like weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She breathed easier, like someone had sucked all toxins out of the air and not it was finally clear. She felt like the sun had just risen and it was indeed the dawn of a new day, which in a sense it was.
"I shoulda had you fired," she jibed carefully.
"You don't scare me shawty," he said walking back around his desk. It was the very first joke she'd ever made in his presence, period. She liked this feeling, comfort. "All I gotta do is make a bowl of cereal with that carton of milk in the fridge and you'd throw yourself outta that window."
She gasped, not believing that he'd been observant enough to notice that she liked the dairy. Then again, she'd been observant enough to notice that he liked Arizona sweet teas. She still blushed all over her cheeks just a little when he said it. She smoothed her skirt and giggled at his joke. "Whatever, I've got faxes to check."
"Don't worry about it," he said. "I'll do it. Go find your bathing suit."
She was impressed, the big guy letting her go shopping while he checked his own faxes. She was pleased beyond words. But she shook her head. "When you were an asshole, I would have loved this break. But now that you're a nice guy... I'll check the faxes before I leave."
Trey didn't say anything as a gesture of parting. Instead he just looked at her, his menacing brown eyes staring goose bumps onto her skin. His angelic face became stone and fire danced in his orbs. He was otherwise unfathomable. Emma felt the carefree smile slip from her face and she ducked her head, trying to get away from those prying eyes. "Trey," she breathed. "P-please don't look at me like that."
His face, still stone, tilted to the side just a little, one eye brow rose. "Like what?" he drawled. His southern accent was thick in two mere words.
Emma shifted in her chair, his scrutiny making her dewy in bad places. She pushed stray hairs behind her ear and granted him her full attention again. She felt like his gorgeous eyes were smiling at her. And even though his face was stone he was utterly spellbinding. "Like," she bit her lip. "Like you want me." She attempted a nervous laugh to make her statement a joke and he only smirked.
"Oh yeah I want you."
Her cheeks flamed red and her jaw dropped. He shouldn't have been admitting something like that in the office. She put a subconscious hand to her chest and drew back in her chair. "That right there," he said, his gaze tracing lines over her breasts, stomach and lower. His eyes found hers after a whole agonizing two seconds. He stared into her eyes again, a movement she was sure he did so that Emma would know that he was not joking. "I need that baby."
She didn't know what to say. "I-I..."
"Relax Emma," he said. He leaned up and grabbed her hand. Emma stood. He towered over her in her tall shoes. "I don't take things that don't belong to me."
She nodded and then took a step backwards, trying to put distance between herself and that damned good smell. Her legs hit the chair and she threw a hand behind her to feel her way around it, never looking away from his face. She couldn't. What if he pounced on her when her back was turned and took her body savagely on his desk?
Oh to dream...
"Right," she muttered. "Well." She stood her ground once a yard was between them in his spacious, modern office. Trey grinned at her antsy manner until she finally turned her back to him, muttering she'd be back within the hour and bolting from the room.