All That He Wants

By: Olivia Thorne

Turns out I was wrong, which I found out later that night.

The torrent of profanity ended abruptly. There was a long pause, and then a single word on the other end: “Hello.”

He didn’t say it in a friendly voice, but it was a hell of a lot friendlier than what he’d been subjecting me to a second ago.

“Here’s the thing, Klaus – I’d like to call you back on my phone so I can conference in somebody else. He’s expecting my call. You okay with that?”

There was the muffled, Charlie Brown’s teacher wah-wah-wah-WAAAAH of Klaus’s voice complaining on the other end.

“Thirty seconds, Klaus, and I’ll get right back to you. Be sure to pick up, bud – you’re gonna wanna hear this!”

And then Connor hung up on Klaus without waiting for a reply.

Ohhhh CRAP.

Mr. Movie Star had pretty much just signed my death warrant.


Connor saw my face and laughed. “You should see what you look like right now.”

“You did not just hang up on my boss,” I almost shouted.

I’d gotten my voice back, which was good. Basically, my overwhelming fear of losing my job – and my irritation at Connor losing it for me – overrode all the physical attraction that was keeping my tongue tied.

He held out the phone to me and grinned. “You’re adorable when you’re angry, you know that?”

I snatched it out of his hand. “How are you even going to call him when you – ”

And then I knew. When I had initially handed my cell to him, he’d glanced down at the screen.

And seen the number.


He saw that I’d figured it out and winked as he pulled out his own cell. “Yes, I saw it – and yes, I remember it. I have a good head for numbers – 3.1415926, 186,000 miles per second…”

And here he glanced up and down my body with a devilish look.

“…34, 24, 35.”

Then he winked at me with that grin.

I blushed fire engine red.

Those are my measurements. Well, the 34 and the 35 are. He was being excessively nice about the size of my waist.

I guess I should have started ranting and raving about sexual harassment. If anybody else had done it, it would have been creepy and slimy as hell.

But when the guy you’re secretly panting over lets you know he’s mentally undressing you… well, I guess I chose to interpret it as flirting.

Extremely sexual flirting.

Also, if you haven’t guessed it, I’m a little nerdy. So his putting me in a class with pi and the speed of light kind of turned me on, too.

He wasn’t just hot, but smart.

There was another thing, though, that passed through my mind: He wasn’t just spouting off the regular 36-24-36 cliché. If this guy can peg my measurements by looking at me… what is he, a fashion designer? And if not that, then exactly how many women has he been with?!

But by the time I was thinking that, he was already talking into his cell.

“Hi there, Dave, it’s Connor. Can you hold one sec? Thanks.”

He pulled the phone away, swiped the screen once, then tapped out a number.

As it rang, he looked over at me, grinned, and put the phone on speakerphone.

I didn’t realize why he did that until a few seconds later.

He was letting me eavesdrop on the call.

“Hello?!” Klaus’s angry voice rang out.

“Heeey, Klaus! Connor again. I’ve got Dave Westerholtz on the line.”

My jaw dropped on the floor, I’m sure of it.

David Westerholtz. CEO of Everton Consulting.

The company where both Klaus and I worked.

And Mr. Movie Star had him on speed dial.

Even Stanley’s eyes bugged out.

“M-Mr. Westerholtz, h-hello,” Klaus stammered.

“I’ve got you both on speakerphone, hope you don’t mind, but my hands are occupied at the moment,” Connor said with another wink at me.

Which was an outright lie. His hands weren’t doing anything but holding the phone.

But ohhhhhh I wish I could have suggested a few places on me to keep them occupied…

Westerholtz’s voice wasn’t one-tenth as sexy as Connor’s, but it was still pretty darn commanding. “No problem. Klaus, I want you to give Mr. – ”

“Connor,” he interrupted. “Just call me Connor, Dave.”

For some reason, ‘Dave’ sounded pretty happy to be calling Connor by his first name. “Sure, Connor. I want you to give Connor any help he needs, Klaus – anything he asks for. Understood?”

Klaus’s whiny voice kicked in. “Well, Dave, I – ”

“Mr. WESTERholtz,” interrupted the CEO.

Connor gave me a hilarious fake-shocked little ‘o’ mouth, like Oh no he diii-in’t!

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