My instant message flashes, Alexa is letting me know she is going to prepare the conference room. I look at the clock, it’s been several hours since my last message from her. I am pleased by the ease of tension within me. I have not worked without thinking about Alexa this long since she started. Perhaps it was simply a matter of coming to terms with my desire that alleviated it. It is as I once believed, this desire will dissipate on its own. I have no doubt it will not happen overnight. However, It will lessen until I’ll forget I ever felt it.

Then I walk into the conference room where Alexa is bent over the conference table. The urge to take her hard and rough from behind has me in pain. Sonofabitch.

It does not get any better when the room fills with people. A dozen times my eyes go to Alexa, wanting to see her reaction, indicating she needed to make a note, when she clears her throat, to see her try and discreetly put her bra strap back on her shoulder as it slides down her arm.

As the meeting draws to a close, I become conscious of the looks of surprise as eyes go from me to Alexa and back again. The question of how Natalie was able to detect my desire for Alexa is answered. I have played poker at some of the highest stakes tables in Monaco and walked away with millions yet having Alexa within touching distance has even Walter, the most obtuse man in the company, reading me.

Angry with Alexa, disgusted with myself, I end the meeting. “Any questions or issues give them to Alexa.”

Almost twenty minutes later Alexa knocks on my door. When she comes in, I am immediately angry with her all over again. Her eyes are ice, she is looking through me. As she hands me the notes from the meeting, her bra strap falls again. “Your bra strap is showing, fix it.” Her face turns crimson, I twist the knife. “The problem is your bra does not fit. It’s the reason why despite it being tight around your chest the strap keeps falling. Once you are done with the notes on the meeting, I want you to go here.” I pull out a card from my personal trove. “I will call Gertrude and let her know to expect you. You look sloppy, I do not do sloppy and while you work for me, neither do you.”

Her jaw clenches. Reaching out, she takes the card as if she is handling the Ebola virus. “Yes, sir.”

***

Alexa

––––––––

The card falls to the floor from my bloodless fingers. I want to tear it into tiny pieces as I lean down to pick it up. Almost as if taunting me, my stupid bra strap slides down again. Damn it. How did he know it was too tight around my chest?