Love in Fantasy (Skeleton Key) (24 page)

Dear Cupid, arrows don’t make you a man.

I
drop my head back and close my eyes in exasperation when I hear the bickering in the hallway outside my office. “Simon, Abbi, would you be so kind as to stop your squabbling and come in here?” I bellow.

The resulting extended silence almost has me laughing. Simon enters first, a dark scowl on his face, followed by a blushing and contrite Abbi. She sits demurely in a chair across from me while Simon flops down in his usual spot on my couch, glaring at the back of her head.

“What is it going to take for you two to get along?” I ask crossly. Neither of them answer, and I sigh. “Look, you’re both excellent at your jobs and I’d hate to lose either one. But, you’ve got learn to work together civilly or shit won’t get accomplished anyway, and I’ll be transferring one of you to another office. Do I make myself clear?” I’m trying to remain stern, but Wilhelm is buzzing in my pocket, distracting me.
Abbi and Simon? Really?
They hate each other.

“Perfectly clear, Oliver. I apologize for being so unprofessional,” Abbi replies. She quickly covers her mouth, smothering a yawn. Simon makes a noise that sounds something like an irritated grunt, causing Abbi to toss him a dirty look.

“Thank you, Abbi.” I dismiss her and turn my laser focus on Simon, warning him not to push me too far. Once she’s gone and has shut the door, I snap, “Get it together, Simon. You’re acting like a child. And may I remind you, you are not irreplaceable. Although, it would be a massive pain in the ass to do so.”

Simon folds his arms across his chest and glares at me. “Who is the jackass taking Abbi out every night? She comes in tired and dragging every day, barely staying awake at her desk. She’s going to make herself sick. Then, where will we be?”

Wilhelm is still humming and it’s for that reason alone, I give him some slack. Assuming his frustration stems from attraction and jealousy. “It’s none of my business,” I inform him, and because I’m a jackass, I needle him further. “It’s none of your business, either, Simon. Unless she chooses to share it.” The flare of conflicted emotions in his expression shouldn’t amuse me, but it does. Must be the whole misery loves company shit.

I start thinking of ways to get the key to Abbi when Wilhelm goes silent.
No? Simon then?
He resumes his humming. My mind wanders back to Odette and how I’d simply given her the key. However, I decide that won’t work for Simon since he’d be too stubborn to admit he wants to be her fantasy.
Idiot.
I can’t wait for it to be Pippa’s turn; I’m dying to know what she conjures up when she fantasizes about me. There is no doubt in my mind that she does.

Wilhelm is getting increasingly more obnoxious by the second and though I instinctively know I’m not supposed to tell Simon the purpose of the key. I am supposed to give it to him and it hits me then. “Simon, can you drop this on Abbi’s desk on your way out?” I ask casually as I retrieve the key and toss it over to him.

He catches it and bows his head to examine it curiously. I start to count . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1. His head whips up.
There it is
. “Is this the skeleton key that was supposed to be in the box?” he asks incredulously. His eyes narrow suspiciously. “Why are you giving it to me? I don’t want or need to deal with love. You’ve been enough proof of that.”

“First, I’m not giving it to you, dipshit. I asked you to give it to Abbi.” I watch to see if he understands the implication and almost smile when his eyes darken with anger. “And second, Pippa is worth anything and everything I’ve dealt with,” I add because he needs a fucking wake-up call. “Even when she’s being a pain in the ass, she is still the most perfect woman, because she was made to be mine.” I cringe inside because, while this is true, I’m tempted to check and see if I’ve grown vagina from all of this mushy bullshit. I really don’t understand why Cupid is portrayed as a man. The arrows don’t make up for the fact that he is a pussy.

He scowls to cover up the hint of yearning creeping into his eyes. “Not interested,” he lies. “But, I’m happy for you.”

“Simon,” I start, shaking my head with fake sympathy, “I’ve come to the conclusion that you are either living in denial or just completely stupid.” He’s shooting daggers at me and I fight a smile, returning his expression mockingly. “Now, get the fuck out of my office. I’ve got work to do. And, I suggest you man up, and go after your girl.”

When I get home in the evening, I find my way into the room next to my office to check the progress. I went ahead with my plans to build a workspace for Pippa, right next to mine, with a shared door, of course. I’ve decided to work from home more often so I can spend more time with my family, and I want her near. The thought of a midday fuck on my desk may have spurred me into action, but I would have done this eventually. The room is almost done, mint green painted walls, hardwood floors, walls of bookshelves and white, distressed furniture. Staring at her desk, where she will write steam and romance, and the aforementioned, midday fucking session, have put me in a painful spot.
At least you know you’ve still got a cock down there instead of a shiny new vagina.
Fair point.

When I get into my empty bed at night, I vow the next two nights are the last I spend without Pippa. With all of her sisters taken care of, we’ll spend tomorrow night in her fantasy, and I’ll give her one day to get ready for her wedding. By the third night, she’ll be permanently installed in my bed, and I won’t let her out until she’s pregnant. Maybe not even then.

Meanwhile. . .

Abbi’s Fantasy (and sometimes Simon’s)

“H
ere.” Something heavy punks down and slides across Abbi’s desk, obviously having been tossed there unceremoniously. She sighs and looks up at the blond-haired, blue-eyed, extremely well-built, Adonis, who seems intent on making her life a living hell. He has a look of complete loathing on his face and if his eyes weren’t glued to the object, she might have thought it was directed at her. He points at the object. “Oliver asked me to deliver this to you.”

She gazes down and sees a skeleton key made of blue-tinted glass. It’s rather odd. She’s never seen anything like it before. “What is it for?”

“Well, it’s a key, Princess,” he explains as though talking to a child. “It unlocks . . . things.”

Abbi gasps and widens her eyes in pretend shock. “Thank heavens you were here, Simon! I might have tried to eat it! Seeing as how I’m teething and all,” she finishes dryly. He opens his mouth to say something that will no doubt make her want to throat punch him, but he doesn’t get the chance.

“Both of you! Take the rest of the day off before I fire you!” Oliver shouts from inside his office.

They glare accusingly at each other and Abbi asks quietly, “What am I supposed to do with this . . . what did you call it? Key?”

Simon doesn’t respond right away and for a half of a second, she thinks there is a glimmer of humor in his eyes. She’d seen the same flash before, during some of their many, many arguments. And, just like all of those other times, she wonders if she’s seen it at all.

“Nothing, Princess. It does nothing. I suggest you put it in a drawer and hang on to it until Oliver comes to his senses and wants it back.” She hates when he calls her that, but she doesn’t tell him because he’d probably call her by it more often, just to piss her off. Before he turned into the big bad wolf, he used to call her “love.” She’d melted every time.

“Sure, I’ll do that,” she deadpans and drops the key into her purse, ignoring his glower. She had a very restless sleep last night and she doubted tonight would be any better, but she couldn’t bring herself to truly care. Her nights are the time when she is happiest, then morning comes and Simon ruins it. Maybe tonight would be one of those nights where she’d be forced to call in sick tomorrow.

Simon watches her ass and hips sway as she gets into the elevator, then storms to his office, slamming the door behind him. He’s tempted to start throwing things, but he knows it won’t relieve all of his pent up aggression from. . . He sighs. Oliver is right. He needs to stop living in denial. The truth is, it’s sexual frustration. It has him tied in knots and it’s only getting worse.

He’s wanted Abbi since the day he met her, and as they worked together, he felt like they were growing closer. They’d even gone to lunch together regularly, and he made the decision to ask her out but hadn’t had the chance. Then, a few weeks ago, she started to come in exhausted and was calling in sick more than usual. He’d thought maybe it had to do with Oliver’s seemingly permanent transformation into an ogre. But, there were times he would catch her sitting at her desk with a dreamy look in her face, often with a small smile and humming. It always seemed to happen when she was the most exhausted.

He finally went to her desk, sat on the edge and offhandedly asked what she’d done the night before. She’d blushed and said, “We were at—” He bristled at the plural term and shot to his feet, interrupting what she was going to say.

“I’m glad you had so much fun you exhausted yourself, but maybe you should contain it to the weekend. You’re not good to us here if you are too tired to do your job.”

Her jaw dropped to the ground and she’d snapped, “Has my productivity gone down?”

“Not yet,” he hissed before turning away and shutting himself in his office. He’d been consumed with jealousy but somehow convinced himself it was self-righteous anger at her trivial attitude towards her job. He started to use every excuse possible to argue with her, knowing in those moments she was only thinking about him. And, he enjoyed seeing her all fired up, though he pays for those instances when he has to talk down a raging hard on.

It’s time for this to end. Simon grabs his keys and stalks to his office door. He didn’t really believe in the power of the skeleton key. It had mostly been a way to give Oliver something else to try while he came up with more options. But, no matter what this key thought, Abbi was his. He decides to follow her, to see this guy he was going up against and, just in case, make sure she doesn’t try to use the key.