Unwanted Heat

Author’s note.

Alright my lovely readers, I appreciate that you all have been loving this story so far. Tighten up because it’s getting heated.

Love you all.

Nicholas

My phone has been buzzing all morning with text messages from Cara-normally this would drive me crazy and frustrate me to no end since it’s the middle of the work day. However, from the moment I see the first picture of Kenzie smiling in an awful, green dress with too much lace, I can’t help but chuckle. I’ve been down this road with Cara before: she loves to try on ugly or silly dresses when she shops and clearly she has gotten Kenzie involved in her little game.

The pictures all make me chuckle… until the one entitled “Pretty Woman.” The picture has Kenzie wearing an incredibly short and tight, dark blue mini skirt with a white tube top. All that is missing are the fishnet stockings and the red wig. While this is one of Cara’s favorite movies, the similarities are not lost on me. Of course, Kenzie was not a prostitute when I met her, but some of the circumstances are so close to the movie that I can’t ignore.

There is no denying that she looks incredibly sexy in the picture, and seeing her in so little clothing has me thinking of how it felt to kiss her last night. I don’t know what came over me when I leaned in after our dinner, I was just overwhelmed with this sudden urge to feel her lips against mine again. I can still remember how soft her lips felt and how she pressed against me while she tugging my hair. And the sounds she made! I don’t know if she even knew she was making them, but every time she moaned my dick twitched with desire. I couldn’t help but think about what type of sounds she would make when I fucked her, and that thought nearly had me at full attention.

With us that close, there was no hiding how much I wanted her, but I didn’t need her becoming uncomfortable. I know she doesn’t feel the same way I do. I want to fuck her, and she wants someone to make love to her.

I’d want to fuck her anywhere I possibly could yet she would expect it to happen in a bed, surrounded by flowers and candles I’m sure. I’d walk out as soon as we were done, but she would expect cuddling and for me to sleep with her. That’s not an option.

Except, I have slept with Kenzie. I still don’t know what to do with that. When I signed the contract with Bridget, I never expected her to have such an impact on my life. I thought I would be able to keep this arrangement separate from my personal life, that they would only overlap at the occasional charity event that we attended with my parents. My parents adore Kenzie; my sister thinks she has a new best friend, and I’ve realized we are becoming friends. All of this from a single contract with Bridget, that was meant to change my image for the press.

Originally I thought this would end in a couple of weeks: that the press would realize I was capable of having a relationship with a woman and that they would back off. However, I’ve realized that no matter what I do, they may never back off. Kenzie and I have been dating for about three months now, and yet when we went a couple of weeks without being photographed, the press were quick to drag me through the mud. I hate that the press has bothered Kenzie; I hate that she’s had to leave her job, even temporarily because of me. And I hate that Kenzie is so stubborn that she won’t let me pay her for the income she has lost. How many women would turn that down?

“Mr. Parker?” Melody knocks on my door pulling me from my thoughts.

“Come in.”

“Mr. Morrison is requesting a meeting with you-”

“I have something scheduled with him later this week, don’t I?”

“Yes, but he’s requesting a meeting today. He says it’s urgent-”

“Okay, move what you have to in my schedule. See if Alex can cover something or reschedule it for later this week.”

David Morrison is PFS’s Director of Human Resources and employee relations. I know if he is requesting to see me ahead of our normally scheduled time that it is important. David has worked for me for the last five years and was quickly promoted to his current position based on his ability to relate to our employees. PFS has hundreds of employees across many different fields, yet he has a solid understanding of nearly every position. He is able to talk to a disgruntled employee about an issue they may have and by the end of that conversation, he will have them apologizing for their behavior and assisting them in developing a plan to correct their performance issue. He just has this knack for resolving conflicts, with not only employees but to the management team.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Parker; thank you for meeting me on such short notice,” David arrives in my office only a few minutes later.

“Of course, how are you?”

“I’m well, and you?”

“Good. Please have seat and tell me what’s going on.”

“Mr. Parker, as you know we conduct routine employee satisfaction surveys throughout the year, and up until now, we have always had gleaming results. Our employees have generally been satisfied with our compensation packages,” they should beI offer one of the best compensation packages out there to all employees. “Including their salary, health benefits and time off. We have been using these surveys for the last four years however, this is the first year that the results have been less than positive-”

“What do you mean less than positive? We haven’t changedText © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

anything related to benefits or pay.”

“No, Mr. Parker, their satisfaction with those items and their overall job responsibilities remain quite high.”

“So, what is it?”

“Well… sir…”

“Spit it out, Davidson!”

“The area that plummeted drastically is their confidence in the CEO

of PFS-”

“Their confidence in me has dropped?” I sit back in my chair in utter disbelief. I have prided myself in hiring only the best employees, in offering the best incentives and in providing a workplace in which my employees are happy, which has resulted in very little turnover despite the industry trend. I have worked hard to portray the image of a manager that they can believe in and of a company that they can be proud to work at.

“Um… yes, sir.”

“Do they cite reasons for the sudden decrease in confidence? When was the last time this survey was distributed, and how was their confidence level at that time?”

“The last survey was conducted roughly nine months ago; at that time their confidence level in you was high, sir.”

“And now?”

“It’s quite low, sir.”

“What was the reason cited for the change in confidence? I’m assuming you asked that question?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker. The survey automatically triggered a secondary question if they indicated their confidence level in the CEO was low asking them for the reason of their low rating.”

“And?” He’s frustrating me with how vague he is being.

“The reason why the consensus was low for that question was due to the negative publicity. Several of respondents stated they are concerned about the stability of your life, your ability to manage your personal life and your professional life as well as the-”

“Wait, you’re telling me that their confidence in me has decreased because of what the press is saying?”

“Based on the responses provided, yes sir.”

“Unfuckingbelievable!”

The fucking press! Of all the things to have a negative impact on now; they’re fucking crossing the line. I can’t have them impacting my employees’ confidence level in me. I can’t lose staff because the press paints me to be a playboy! PFS’s low staff turnover is one of the selling points I make in every proposal we present. If I suddenly have an increase in employee turnover, I will lose projects that we’ve worked months on and spent thousands of dollars trying to close.

I can’t let her take this away from me too. It’s her fault the press won’t fucking leave me alone-they left me alone while we were together and even for a time after things ended between us. Come to think of it, they left me alone for about a year after that. I’d suspected she was behind the negative press, but Carter has kept tabs on her, and she isn’t even in the state.

“I… I thought you would want to know immediately, sir.”

“You were right; thank you, Mr. Davidson. Forward the survey results to me when you get back to your office. I will develop a plan to address the areas in which we fell below our expectations.”

“Of course, Mr. Parker.”

I’m fucking pissed off. I need to figure out how the fuck to fix this and fast. The only problem is, I’m too fucking pissed off to think. I can’t focus on anything. I can’t fucking think, let alone find a solution to this debacle of a situation that I’m fucking in. There’s no point in getting my PR team together again; last time they weren’t helpful, and I ended up firing half of them for their ridiculous ideas. I send off an angry email to my legal department, requesting they notify the press that the next publication that borders on slander will result in an immediate lawsuit. Nothing will come from it, as it never does. The press walks a very fine line in what they publish, and so far none of it has come close to the definition of slander, according to my legal team.

“Melody, cancel the rest of my day and notify Carter that I’m leaving in five minutes.”

I don’t wait for a response before I shut my computer down and put away my files from the day. I can’t sit here and do nothing; I need to fucking do something, and right now I need to find a way to relieve this stress so I can fucking think clearly. Nothing is more important in my life right now, outside of my family of course, than fixing this fucking mess. My entire career, PFS’s future and the future of hundreds of my employees, fucking depends on my next move.

“Sir?” Carter is at my door exactly five minutes after I notified Melody that I was leaving.

“I’m leaving, Carter.”

I follow Carter to the SUV, still trying to figure out how the fuck I’m going to solve this problem. All I know is I need to clear my fucking head; actually, I need to get out of my head for a little while. I need to…

“Carter, take me to the Blue Moon.”

“Yes, sir.”

Forty-five minutes later, Carter has dropped me at the front door of the Blue Moon and waited until I was cleared to enter. He has never liked the fact that I come here because he is not permitted to enter with me. He doesn’t like that he cannot communicate with me once I enter the building either, as all cell phones are secured upon checking in.