Page 77 of Hurt Me Not
I mean, my high school bully, who was never supposed to like me, taking me to The Met after hours for a private tour only to fuck me against the wall?
I couldn't stop thinking about it.
The more I stared at Emerson, the more I remembered her lips on mine. Her hand between my legs as she made me co?—
“Next slide, Pearl.”
This time, her voice was loud and a bit snappy, putting a definitive end to that.
I shot her a smile, but her gaze told me she knew what I’d been thinking about. And she liked it.
I never allowed myself to think that my crazy dream of being with Emerson would actually come true.
Or that she would be that romantic, going through what she did for our date.
A smile pulled at my lips as she opened her mouth to speak, but this time she didn't need to tell me what to do because I was already paying attention. Her eyes shifted to me as if she was amused for a moment, but then she simply carried on.
“If you have no questions, we can end this now and go to lunch early,” Emerson said, and everyone got up. She was the first one to leave, while I stayed behind in the conference room to pack up everything.
“So, what does Pearl want for lunch today?” Cristian asked with a smile as he came up to me.
“Me?” I let out a little laugh. “I'm not picky. Whatever the company's getting catered.”
Cristian lifted a brow and then turned to Leslie, who was standing by the door. The look they exchanged had me thinking that I was missing something. Some sort of private joke, maybe?
“What?” I asked, stopping to look at them.
“I don't think she knows,” Leslie said, playfulness spreading across her features.
Cristian turned to me, his eyes narrowing as he looked for… something. I had no idea what he was on about.
“What?” I asked again. “What don’t I know?”
“Impossible. You have to be joking. You do know we don't actually get catering… right?”
I straightened, feeling confused.
“What do you mean? We get it every day.“
Cristian's jaw dropped, and Leslie let out a giggle.
“You truly don't know! Oh my god! That's so cute!”
At that, and without another word, Cristian left, shaking his head as he went. Leslie came to me and helped me gather the stuff on the table as she explained.
“Pearl… Emerson has a catering company bring lunch every single day… for you. We thought it was weird when she started asking either of us to order, especially since it was usually food she’d never ordered herself, but it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”
“For me?” I asked. “But she never even asked me…”
I stopped dead in my tracks as several of our morning conversations in the car hit me like a ton of bricks.
“I'm getting sick of sandwiches,” Emerson said as she drove toward the company.
“Aren't you, like, the boss? Can't you request something different?” I asked with a laugh. “I don't think the sandwiches are that bad. It's free food in my book!”
“It’s boring.”
“I don't know, then maybe ask if they can switch it up? Maybe Mediterranean or something?”
