I watch her disappear in the elevator, reprimand myself for apologizing to her, and try to shake him away. My days of caring about women are over. Every time I put my heart on the line, it got squashed. After my fourth fiancée, and last failed attempt to find love, I vowed to use women for my physical needs and stay single forever. All of them were just using me for the Cartwright name and money. It didn't matter if they were from the small town I grew up in or Dallas. Every time I got used, it cut me deeper.

Ms. Peach is lying about not knowing who I was before this morning.

She seemed genuinely shocked.

It's an act.

The last five years, I've stuck to my rules, and I no longer get emotionally attached. It's easier, there aren't any surprises, and I don't become a lovestruck fool.

I pace my office, wishing I hadn't thought of my past romantic failures and trying to no avail to get Little Miss Sunshine out of my head. So I decide I need to work out again. I go home, change, and step into my gym, sweating for several hours. But nothing gets her voice, with her southern phrases and accent, out of my mind.

Plus, her round ass and long legs were made to torture men.

I finally get into the shower, jack off, and toss my pre-packaged, macro-balanced meal into the microwave.

A vision of her gourmet, sugar-scented cupcakes pops into my head.

I mumble, "Who eats cupcakes in today's age anyway?"

More annoyance fills me thinking about all the clients who ate and raved about them while my mouth watered as I resisted trying one.

A few times, I had to check myself. Georgia would say something in the meeting, and I couldn't help but scowl to cover up my attraction toward her. From time to time, Victoria gave me her "What the hell is wrong with you?" expression.

Nothing I did seemed to faze Little Miss Sunshine, which only irritated me further. And every time she ran her pink tongue over her lips, my cock ached.

The microwave dings. I eat my food without tasting it, then slide into bed.

All night, I toss and turn, thinking about the mergers and acquisitions I have on my plate and the contracts that need to get renewed. Eventually, the never-ending question rears its ugly head.

When will my father finally retire?

He keeps saying he's going to, but he puts it off another twelve months every year. So I'm not going to hold my breath that come January, I'll be the new CEO of Cartwright Enterprises.

To distract my thoughts, Georgia pops back into my mind. I get another hard-on and jack off to visions of her sucking me dry with her plump, pink lips.