36. The Offer

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AN: 🙌😘 Literally a solid 10k reads in a MONTH and we've reached 1k votes. At the end I have a proposition for y'all and I'm letting the readers decide a coarse of action for the book.

Phoebe's POV:

I lean against the door confused. One second I'm ready for the horizontal tango and the next I'm by myself with an angry Mr. M a couple of feet away.

What changed?

Not that I should be complaining, I did tell him to back up before the kiss. That amazingly unexpected breathtaking kiss-no, I need to focus on the reason why I'm here.

......Why am I here again?

'Think Phoebe!' I command and accidentally look straight at Mr. M's dick.

I know damn well I didn't imagine him getting hard mere seconds ago. I may not know much, but I do know that there's only a limited number of reasons why a man would stop cold in the middle of a seduction that was working in his favor. And I can easily guess Mr. M's reason.

'He must be back with his ex wife.' I feel my previous anger and raise my eyes to glare at Mr. M, who's already glaring at me.

My eyes start to burn after a couple of seconds because I know it's the truth. I break eye contact and look at my feet, at least the floor isn't giving me a reason to cry. Mr. M shifts his weight trying to get me to meet his eyes again but I refuse.

"Sit down Phoebe." Mr. M commands. His voice is a bit gruff, I knew I wasn't the only one affected! He has an excellent poker face but the rest of his body gives him away.

Mr. M then walks over to his desk and sits down. When he looks up and sees that I haven't moved, his eyes widen slightly. In response I lift an eyebrow at him, obviously defiant.

In truth, the only thing holding me up right now is this door. My legs feel like jello and moving will not look good in my favor. I want to look as unaffected as Mr. M but mainly I don't want to fall on my face if my legs give out.

There's also the slight problem of where to sit.

I refuse to sit in front of his desk like I'm some employee, but getting close to Mr. M has two possible outcomes. One, I start crying over the fact that Mr. M chose the other woman. Two, we can't stand the distance and get closer- with no clothes on.

Both aren't favorable.

I should know better than to lie to myself because option number two sounds fantastic.

"Phoebe." Mr. M snaps.

I startle forward on instinct. At least my legs feel sturdy now.

"What?" I respond. My guard instantly up.

"Are you going to stand there staring at me all day or are we going to talk?" The irritation is clear in his voice. He looks like he wants this over with so that I can leave.

I weigh my options carefully.

Then on instinct I walk around to Mr. M. I'm tempted to sit on his lap but refrain and lean on his desk instead. I immediately cross my arms and ankles, like they're really going to stop him from getting closer if he wants to, like they're going to block his break ups words from hitting me directly in my chest.

Mr. M pushes back his chair and we just look at each other. Maybe I'm supposed to be the first to speak, but what exactly left is there to say? I could lie and say that I'm happy for them but I'm not. Besides, the words refuse to leave my mouth.

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