𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐭 || ᴊᴇɴʟɪsᴀ

𝐭 𝐡 𝐫 𝐞 𝐞

When the regulation chauffeur-black Bentley pulled to a stop in front of our building in Lower Manhattan just after one p.m., I slid from the backseat, hoping to lose Mark before he could pin me down with a barrage of questions. I rushed to the elevators, punched the button to close the doors in his face and congratulated myself the whole way up to the fifteenth floor. The second elevator pinged as I opened the glass doors of our office and I turned back just in time to see Mark stepping out. Shitshitshit. I hurled breathless greetings at everyone, accepted a handful of messages and was practically running by the time I got to my office.

I dropped my bags on the plush carpet and as I was closing the door, a hand grabbed the wood and stopped me. "Nice try, Jen." Mark closed the door calmly behind himself. He would never raise his voice or slam a door when people were around. Image you see. But after a whole flight and car ride to think about it, he'd be tumultuous.

I told him frequently that bottling up emotions was unhealthy. He'd probably have a heart attack before he was fifty. No heart attacks for me-I made sure to take the cap off my emotional bottle on a semiregular basis, releasing anger by griping at incompetent people. Mark's a damp match, constantly trying to get lit. I'm a firecracker. Burn hot and bright then go out. Really, I'm not a bitch. Just occasionally bitchy.

Mark spun around to face me. "Jennie." My full name, not his usual shortened version. He was serious with a capital S. "What the actual fuck? Did you sleep with her? How?"

"How? You want a lesson in the logistics of lesbian lovin'?" I grinned at my alliteration and deft sidestepping.

"Jen."

"Fine." I lifted a forefinger. "I did, but I can explain. It's quite simple really."

"I'm sure it is."

I made sure to enunciate. "I. Didn't. Know."

"How could you not know?"

I ticked off my defense as I walked across to my desk. "You hired her, her back was to me when I walked past and I worked with earphones in the whole flight." If I'd heard her voice, I would have recognized it in the bar immediately. It was as delicious as she was and I was pretty confident I'd heard her entire octave range, right from deep whispers of dirty things in my ear to muffled screams.

Mark grunted and my explanation picked up speed. "I'm serious, Mark. I was drinking at the bar and she approached me. We had a few more drinks and went up to her room. Do you really, honestly think I'd have fucked her if I knew? Like, really?"

"No, I don't but-"

"But nothing. When I left the jet she assured me she was unaware of who I was. And you know what? I believe her." I dropped the handful of crumpled call notes next to the phone and rested my ass against the edge of my heavy mahogany desk.

He waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever. So...no more? It's out of your system?"

Eyes wide, I clamped my lips together and gave him a very noncommittal gesture. It was not out of my system. Not by a long shot. Mark stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked over to me. "If you're going to sleep with her again, you need to talk to HR. We need waivers. And no, we can't fire her just so you can screw her again, Jen."

I gave him a hard stare. "I know that, you fucking idiot." I'd already been through all the possibilities, including that one. Thinking of the crescendo as she came, I was tempted to do it anyway and risk being sued for unfair dismissal just so I could have my tongue inside her again.

"Look, I don't plan on sleeping with her again, but I'm allowed to have thoughts, Mark."

His cheeks puffed. "Fine. But talk to Tom so if she sues your ass for sexual harassment because of last night, we're prepared."