I Don't Want to Fall in Love... With You

"Hello, Tracey, could you please inform the Barlows that I've pushed their meeting to next Thursday at eleven." I pressed down on the intercom, maybe a little too hard. The white of my nail was beginning to encompass the entirety of my finger.

"I'll be right on it, sir." My secretary's pleasant voice bounced back at me, every bit of her promising. Thanking her, I ended the call and laid back in my leather recliner, scouring my surroundings.

My office was a decent size. Bigger than most, I admit, but it came with being brilliant at my job. I'd been working at this company for more than fifteen years, just a little while after Emily was born, so anyone would say this was the least I deserved.

Usually, I preferred smaller spaces (they seemed more intimate to me, somehow), but I had grown accustomed to these four walls. If these walls could talk, I mused.

I supressed chuckling, as my eyes fell back to my desk and the photographs that I had resting upon it. No office was a place of peace without good memories, I thought, so of course I had to bring a delightful photograph of my daughter. It was an old one, about two years or so by now, but puberty had always favored her.

She was smiling brightly, as if she'd been given everything she'd ever wanted, placed on a pedestal and so much more... Her smooth tan skin glimmered from the heat of the hour and made those teeth of hers stand out among the rest of her.

My daughter had inherited a lot of her mother's traits. Instead of seeing that as a curse, I knew it was nothing less than a blessing.

My mood faltered, however, when I glimpsed the body Emily had been clutching onto for dear life, desperate to never let go. Blonde, slender and only the hints of a smile on her plump pink lips, Anya's eyes stared back into the camera, unwavering.

I shook my head free of unwanted thoughts. After all, I couldn't ever look back on last night and remain positive about it. What we had done, it was wrong. I couldn't have it happen again.

Perhaps if she was older and not a minor, I might give it a thought, but that's the problem: she wasn't. I wouldn't dare pursue anything with the poor girl.

God, I bet she was as confused about the whole ordeal as I was.

Rubbing my face, I tried to put the taste of her lips out of my mind, but it was growing harder with every second. The girl was haunting me.

There was a quick knock on my door and instead of getting up off my lazy ass, I beckoned them to just come on in.

Which turned out to be a mistake, as Anika Von Trapp welcomed herself into my space. The click of her heels echoed throughout the room, mirroring the evil expression that she played.

Truth be told, my colleague was a stunning woman. Her face was symmetrical, with bold eyes and edgy bone structure, thin legs that reached the heavens and skin that looked smoother than butter, but it didn't change the fact that she wasn't a respectable person. She could schmooze up to me all she liked, could throw her panties my way... I still wouldn't give into her devilish ways.

Red suits her so well. That jacket and pencil skirt really made it stick out that she was make-up free (besides the scarlet lips that were her trademark) and those dark heels were killer.

She slammed some papers onto my desk, giving me a full view of her voluptuous breasts, which were only just contained by the thin tee she wore under her suit jacket.

"Thank you, Anika." I didn't like her, but I remained kind, even when she was grating on my last nerve.

She winked.

"Anything for you, Daddy."

I sighed, grabbing the papers when her perfectly manicured hand fell upon mine. The spotless nails scratched lightly on my fingers.

"I noticed you look stressed today, sir. Perhaps I can be of service." Biting her lipstick stained lower lip, I had to resist from hurling insults at her.

It was a well-known fact around the office that Anika wasn't timid about her sexual endeavours. Married men, widowed and engaging in plenty of threesomes to last her a lifetime, she didn't deny her history. In fact, she seemed proud of it.

Who was I to say she shouldn't be? There was nothing wrong with experience, admittedly, nor promiscuity. You do what makes you happy and feel fulfilled, I always said, but I never engaged in intercourse with someone I didn't feel anything for. Casual sex had never been for me, even before Emily's mother.

True connections came round as little often as possible, so I didn't ever wish to miss out on that. There was something about waking up to a woman's face in the morning that couldn't be replaced with sneaking out the door in the middle of the night.

I forced a smile and looked her in the eye. Hers were dilated.

"I'm quite alright, Anika. You should get back to work, now." I kept my tone light and even, despite how I wanted to scream at her that I'd never give in to her manipulative ways.

Rolling her eyes, she sighed and let go, turning back as she sashayed her way back to her cubicle.

"One day, Mr Quinn, sir, I'm going to have you."

The purr echoed, even after she shut the door behind. I could make out her heels clipping away fast and her laugh as she snaked her way into some other fool's pants.

Well, I had to hand one thing to her:

She gladly stopped me thinking about my daughter's best friend for a few minutes.