Page 40 of Say You Hate Me


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It could be me next time.

White-hot heat pools in my core, and I work my hand faster as my breathing becomes uneven.

What would it be like to have him inside of me? Would he be rough? If yesterday was any indication, he would kiss me aggressively, like he was desperate to consume me.

Like he couldn’t get enough.

I moan out loud when I remember the feel of his hands, the way the callouses were rough and warm, and imagine his abrasive fingers inside of me instead of mine, working me like only someone with his experience could…

Imagine the way he’d toss me around, commanding me,hatingme, with his offensive temperament, his uncouth mouth…

My orgasm shoots through my body quickly. The intense pulsing claws its way into every crevice, every pore of my body, making me tremble. I pant as the last of it ebbs and flows, leaving me feeling silly, immature, and wanton.

I get up immediately and take a long, cold shower, erasing the last ten minutes from my mind.

Luca hasoutdone himself when I walk into the Gather office a few hours later, a little before nine in the morning. I hand him his coffee—something I brought in as a thank-you gesture—and he walks me towards the large meeting room. I happen to glance into one of the large offices on our way over. Anderson is seated, typing away at his computer. He’s wearing a simple, black suit, completely ignoring the celebration as he types furiously into his laptop. He doesn’t look up as I walk by, and I ignore the sting of that realization.

Everyone in the conference room is gathered around donuts and balloons. I try not to roll my eyes, because it really is sweet.

“Way to show everyone that nepotism is not at play here,” I murmur into Luca’s ear as I take a gigantic bite of donut.

“I got overly excited. So, sue me.” He pulls me into a quick side hug. “You look nice, by the way.”

“Thanks.” I look down at my old, leather mini skirt and simple black blouse. The black stilettos I chose were slowly killing my feet. “I wanted to buy some nicer business clothes, but I got the bill for Harrison’s cat this morning. Thirteen thousand dollars.”

“For a cat?” Luca screeches, and a few people look over at us.

“I know.” I take a sip of my to-go coffee. “I’m going to be paying that off for years. And that means no cute office clothes for me.”

Luca clucks. “J. Crew will be so sad.” He turns to look at me and lowers his voice. “Let me help you out. Consider it a bonus.”

I shake my head adamantly. “Nope. Definitely not. I refuse to take your money. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

He shrugs. “Well, I guess that means you’re beholden to Gather for a while.”

Just as I’m about to reply, Anderson walks by the room, catching my attention. His eyes find mine briefly—and something primal inside of me awakens as his eyes rove down my body. He continues walking.

What the hell is his deal?

Once the celebration winds down a few minutes later, and once I’mprettysure I know everyone’s name, Luca shows me to my office. It’s a small space, but it has a view of Sunset Boulevard and a shiny new computer to use for fancy marketing things. I set my purse down and stare out onto the busy street for a few minutes, wondering what Samantha and the Amour team are doing. It was the first job I secured after college, so it’s a bit strange to be in a new office, doing something entirely different. I smile when I realize someone put a fresh hydrangea in a vase of water on my desk, instantly making the space homier. I sit and boot up my iMac, leaning back into the buttery leather chair.

All in all, I can’t complain.

I start my day by reaching out to all the Hawaiian influencers I met and/or reached out to while I was in Maui. Several of them get back to me right away, and I formulate a plan for the restaurant’s soft opening in a couple of months. Since it’s my biggest task at hand, I want to be sure all my ducks are in a row as early as possible. Luca and Anderson still haven’t chosen a restaurant group or a location in Maui, but they did secure the funding needed, so we’re almost halfway there. I line up posts on Instagram and Facebook, and while I’m at it, I look through the horrendous Facebook ads they’re running—something that desperately needs revamping.

After I sign off on some ad image prototypes from Mark in design, I dig into their sad little mailing list. For a multi-million-dollar company, their newsletter is about seven years out of date. I send off some recent data from their mailing list provider to Luca, being sure to highlight the abysmal open and click rates so that I can show him where we should be, and what kinds of rates our competitors have. I copy Anderson in as well, since I suppose it’s pertinent to him, too.

It’s noon when I head to Luca’s office, saying hi to my new co-workers as I walk across the open-concept office. I check my watch, wondering if he has time for lunch, or if he already has plans. I was too nervous to pack something, so I figured we could walk to Trader Joe’s down the street. I raise my hand to knock on his door.

“He’s having lunch with Nathan,” Anderson says from behind.

I turn around and grimace, ignoring the way the suit fits his body perfectly—how the material clings to his arm and leg muscles, or how I can barely spot the brown bracelet next to his silver watch. He’s carrying a stack of papers, and he’s looking at me like he’s waiting for me to leave.

“Okay. Thanks.” I start to walk away, fists clenched.

“Can I see you in my office, Natalia?”

My blood runs cold, and I turn to face him once more. “Your office?”