“What do you think she’ll do?” I asked.
“Quit.”
I sighed, glancing around at the people coming and going from the building. I couldn’t even think of a day in the office without Luci there. She’d become such a huge part of our world and I’d come to depend on her. Not only as my secretary but as the woman who made me whole.
Granted, I knew my brother was right. Luci was going to quit. Hence the reason we were sitting right here waiting for her.
“Do you think she’ll even read the letter?”
“Doubtful.” Langston looked at me. “She’s gotten too far inside her head.”
That was true. I’d noticed it last week when I had gone to her apartment for punishment. It took a tremendous amount of work to keep her in the moment. She had attempted to drift into subspace at every turn and I had refused to allow that to happen. Although it was my goal to pleasure Luci in ways no one else was capable of, I damn sure wasn’t about to let her retreat from me when there was a lesson for her to learn.
Not that it mattered now.
The girl was going to run. And because of that, we were going to put ourselves directly in her path.
This time, she wasn’t going to walk away without knowing exactly how we felt about her.
I glared at my brother.
She should’ve known a long time ago. And I think Langston knew it, too. I could only hope that we could convince her. Otherwise…
I didn’t want to think about the alternative.
Forty-Eight
I WAS JUST ABOUT TO open my last email when I heard footsteps coming down the hall. I looked up to see Jordan sauntering toward me with a smile on his face. I tried to mirror it, but it didn’t work all that well.
“All alone, I see.”
“Yep. They abandoned ship and I’m holding down the anchor.”
He laughed. “I don’t think it’s necessary to hold down the anchor. Isn’t that the whole purpose of it being…an anchor?”
I giggled because he was right. “Did you need something?”
He pulled an envelope out from behind his back.
“A little birdy left this with me. Said I was to give it to you at exactly five fifteen.”
I glanced at the clock, then back to him. “Who’s it from?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know and it’s not my business.”
He placed the envelope on my desk and I stared at it. There was nothing written on the outside.
“Well, I’m about to close it down up front,” he informed me. “You want me to wait for you?”
“No, I’m good.” I offered a smile. “I’ve got a couple more things to do and I’ll make sure the doors are locked.”
“I’ll see you in the morning?” I hated that he felt the need to question me. It meant that I was far more transparent than I thought.
“Of course.”
“Okay, then. Good night, sweet cheeks.”
“Night.”
As he walked away, I continued to stare at the envelope. I debated on whether or not I should open it. Normally, I would’ve ripped it open to appease my curiosity, but I wasn’t in the mood for any more games. Not today.
Pulling up a Word document, I let my fingers hover over the keyboard as I tried to come up with how I wanted to word my resignation.
My eyes drifted to the envelope, then back to the screen.
Shit.
Fighting the urge to open the letter, I began typing:
Dear Sirs,
After giving careful thought to the matter, I’ve decided that it’s in the best interest of the company for me to resign my position. I’ve enjoyed my time here, enjoyed getting to know each of you. It’s been an experience I’ll never forget. I know I should be giving you two weeks’ notice; however, I don’t see how that could possibly help matters. I’ve left a detailed list of my job duties and things that will need to be handled going forward for when you hire my replacement.
Luciana Wagner
As I typed my name, a tear slipped down my cheek. This wasn’t how I’d ever envisioned things going, but honestly, it was the best way to handle it. I wasn’t the right person for these men. I couldn’t keep my emotions from interfering and that was my downfall. They deserved someone who could tend to their needs without entanglements. As it was, chaos had ensued and I knew it was all my fault.
If they were smart, they would keep their playtime limited to the club. It was proving true that mixing business with pleasure was a bad idea.
I copied the details and pasted them into an email. I added the subject: Thank you for the experience, then added their names in the To field.
Pushing back from my chair, I stared down at the screen before hitting send. My eyes shot over to the envelope. No matter what it said, it wasn’t going to fix things. As much as I wanted to read it, it would only make this that much harder.
