Image courtesy of photostock at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Trey Warden came from old money. His hundred-dollar haircuts and thousand-dollar suits always looked stunning, and overdone for the bureaucratic agency he and Angela worked at. Those brave enough to pin him down had passed to the rumor mill he felt an obligation to give back to the society that help his family for so long.
Angela tolerated him only because his solution was never just to toss his money at the problem, but really solve the issue. Emergency planning didn’t need money, it needed strategy and tactics – both of which Trey had in abundance … when he deemed to come into work.
Yesterday, with a rare blizzard about to hit and the Queen’s City to prepare, he had graced them with his presence. That was twenty-two hours ago and God knows how many coffees. He lost his tie somewhere yesterday afternoon and the shirt came untucked after the cold pizza was finally consumed.
They had ordered the mushroom and onion pizza while putting final touches on the indigent housing; it arrived when one of the shelters where they were going to put hundreds of homeless burned to the ground. Around midnight they remembered their dinner.
Now as dawn broke, Angela looked out the window of the board room to see the first of the flakes flying by. “You can go home if you want.” She said. Her voice creaked with exhaustion.
Taking off a jacket worth more than a year of his token hourly pay, “No, some of us need to stay here.” He placed the jacket on the back of the chair beside her and sat down.
Her head dipped up and down, maybe in a nod, maybe in nodding off. “Just, you, me and the dozen of others sleeping in the cafeteria.” She had sent the single parents home once everything was back in order from the last minute emergency. The balance of her staff would man phones, help the department of transportation, and keep the plan moving for the next two days. Thank goodness the blizzard was polite enough to hit on a weekend, so no schools were in the mix.
Spinning the thin leather-like chair so he faced her, he commented. “You could catch some z’es in the waiting room.”
Angela grimaced, “Have you tried those seats? Besides, it doesn’t matter, I am light activated. I will be getting my second wind soon. You?”
“I am emergency activated.” His black eyes danced. “I won’t need to sleep for several days.”
Her mocha eyebrows met as she tried to process that piece of information. “Ex-military?”
He shook his head. The man was a miser about his past, and Angela’s review of his HR jacket didn’t come with any juicy bits. Not like the juicy bits of his muscles bunching and loosening as he stretched beside her. Technically she was his supervisor, but she was not in charge of his reviews or his continuing employment. He was hired at the mayor’s request five years ago, and she wasn’t certain anyone had the power or daring to fire him. She had no clue how far in he was with the present mayor.
“So what do we do now?” he asked. His long legs remained stretch across her egress and she could feel heat radiate through the expensive fabric. For a moment she fought the urge to stretch her legs underneath the bridge he had created, then she gave up. No real reason not to go with the flow. The red rays of dawn filled the room rejuvenating her.
“The press releases are delivered. I’ve already prepped the mayor and Jerome to be talking heads for the morning shows. The sand trucks are running, and the E Team is working the streets to get everyone into shelters.” She thought a moment as she moved her legs up a little until they were skimming the bottom of his trousers. “Did we touch base with the oil and electric utilities?”
“At six, ten, two and six again.” Trey responded same business tone she had been using. But his mouth tilted in a half smile. His coal black eyes lit with embers, meeting hers. He causally sat a little more upright in the board room chair, bringing his legs in solid contact with hers. “Is that it?”
“About everything that needs to be done for the next hour or two except bring the generator online now that the wind has started. Kassandra is covering the phones.”
His smile widened and slid his legs down hers before leveraging himself out of the chair. “Well then, off to the basement to light things up.” He offered her his hand to help her stand.
Angela felt the moisture begin to pool between her legs as she took his hand. God, this is just what she needed to get through the next two days. She hoped Trey wouldn’t be whiny about it afterwards.
She glanced over her shoulder as they entered the stairwell. He was watching her ass with abandonment. Nope, the man was not the whiny type. Rich and privileged, but also competent and strong. And definitely all male. Her breasts tightened in anticipation.
(862 words – originally appearing in Sunday Fun on Breathless Press 11/14/2012)
Kassandra, mentioned in passing in this flash, went on to have
her own story in “If You Love Me…” on January 23, 2013.
And then that flash expanded into my first book
(Click on the cover below to be taken to the Amazon page)