Undersold (2 page)

“Sure is app day. I might be leaving you guys soon,” I said.

He laughed. “I really hope so. Good luck, Amy. You’re going to do great.” He moved off to the back room, probably to tally the day’s sales.

I wanted to check my phone, but I left it back at my apartment in my rush to get to work. It had only been about eight hours since Rex had asked when we could meet, but that was the longest we had been out of communication for the last two days. I thought about him sitting at his computer, eyes darting to his phone nervously. I didn’t want him to worry, but it was nice to imagine being wanted. I felt a rush run through my stomach as the anticipation rose throughout the night. When the café was finally closed, I got back home as fast as I could.

I
lived alone in a small one-bedroom apartment in a rough neighborhood near the Delaware River. I parked my bike on the sidewalk, chained it to a stoplight, and ran up my stoop and into my apartment. The place was messy, but not dirty; I had clothes hung up all over, last night’s dishes still in the sink, books stacked along the back wall in lieu of a bookshelf, and magazines laying around. My desk was covered in papers and many handwritten notes about my app, but it was the most organized part of my space. It’s the spot I spent most of my time, working as hard as I could. It’s tough being a single girl living alone in a city, especially in a sketchy neighborhood like mine, but I threw myself into work to compensate for whatever loneliness I felt.

Once inside, I ran into my bedroom and grabbed my phone. I unlocked the screen and read one message:
Did I scare you away already?

That was it, a single message from him. I was both disappointed and elated. Part of me had wanted multiple texts, maybe even a few calls. Maybe a few more pictures while he was at it. I know, it’s crazy, and we don’t even know each other, but the idea that this attractive man is out there in my city thinking about me, maybe looking at the picture I sent him and touching himself, made me more excited than I’d been in awhile.

Plus, he was smart. We spent most of our time describing what we wanted to do to each other, but we did talk about our other things. He had a lot to say about computers and app development, and his knowledge blew me away. It was the main thing that convinced me he was a legitimate tech entrepreneur, and not just some creep lying about what he did for a living to score chicks. However, I had never heard of him before, and I spent a lot of time reading about local Philadelphia companies. A quick search online for his name brought up nothing. Maybe he was another anonymous person like me, trying to make it big. But then again, the confidence with which he talked about the industry made me think he was way beyond my skill level already.

The other part of me was happy he was confident enough not to blow my phone up. He knew what he wanted, and he asked for it directly, but didn’t go overboard and get all needy on me. I found that kind of confidence incredibly attractive.

I changed out of my work clothes and pulled on a pair of black yoga pants and an old high school soccer t-shirt. I still had a lot to do that night to prepare for my meeting in the morning, and I couldn’t get too sucked into messaging with him again. Still, I really wanted to let him know that I hadn’t forgotten him. Far from it, I’d been thinking about his picture all afternoon, imagining running my fingers down his chest while pressing my lips against his, feeling the heat of his body pressed back against me, his strong hands grabbing my hips. His hard, sculpted muscles. I felt myself getting aroused, and had to stop imagining what I wanted to do to him or else waste an hour getting his body out of my mind.

Lying in my bed, I typed a message back to him.
Not yet, had to go to work. Forgot my phone at home.
I hit send.

There was nothing better than the anticipation. Wondering what he’d say back, when he’d say it back, and where it all was going made me feel better than I’d felt in a long time. Living in Philadelphia was good, and I was able to see Dad as much as possible, but it was also very lonely. I couldn’t let myself get too distracted, so I rolled out of bed, went to my desk, and opened my laptop. I read over the notes and emails again, trying to prepare for whatever was coming tomorrow.

This meeting could change my life, I knew. Living and going to school in New York wasn’t cheap, and I had piles of student loans I still needed to pay off. I felt like I was drowning in interest payments every time I thought about it. Whatever the final number on the sale was going to be, I’d use it all to pay off my loans, and have whatever was leftover to help care for my dad. Best-case scenario, they’d hire me on to keep working on the app, which would mean salary plus benefits. More than that, it would mean stability. But whenever I thought about the sale, self-doubt would take over my chest, and I’d have to breathe deep to get passed it. I tried to block it from my mind, and pretended like my preparation was some kind of game, but I couldn’t help but panic a little bit.

After a half hour, my phone buzzed. It was he.
I know it’s strange to say, but I missed your texts today. Let’s try to meet tomorrow.

It wasn’t strange at all. The strange thing was that I felt exactly the same way, like the lack of the phone’s buzz was a hole in my hourly existence.

I typed back.
OK, let’s meet tomorrow.

I couldn’t believe I agreed to meet him, but it was too late now.

Good, I’m looking forward to it. I keep staring at that picture you sent me
, he wrote back.

Oh yeah? And why is that?

Because I love your body. And I want to feel your breath against my neck
.

That made me grin like an idiot.
Don’t get your hopes up too much. We haven’t even met in person yet.

I already have plenty of things up right now. Because of you.

I smiled again. When we weren’t being serious with our sexting, we both thought it was funny to make cheesy sex puns. He was definitely much cheesier than me.

Go take a shower then, you poor guy. I’ll see you soon
.

Tomorrow was going to be a huge day.

T
he lobby was full of people in expensive suits. I had never seen such a lavish place like this, with marble floors and huge flat screen TVs showing stock market analysis. The front desk girl told me I’d have to wait, which was what I expected. I sat down in a thick leather chair and watched the people go by, each new face looking happier and calmer than the next. Adstringo was known as one of the best places to work in the city, if not the whole country, and I could see why. There was free food, oranges and apples and bananas, plus free coffee and energy bars, and that was just for the visitors. Inside, I had heard there was a full free catered kitchen, plus gyms, rooms for power naps, and more.

It was my dream job. I nervously pulled down the hem of my slim fitted grey pencil skirt, the one that showed off my ass. I was going for attractive but still professional. I felt like I didn’t belong here in this expensive-looking lobby, surrounded by all the happy people, but I was determined to make this happen. My hair was up in a tight bun, and I decided to wear my glasses for once. I was beginning to worry that I came off more as a sexy secretary than as a serious business professional. Not that I really knew what a serious business professional actually looked like. I had never held an office job before, and this was my first experience at a large company.

They kept me waiting for about a half hour. People streamed in and out, seemingly without appointments, and everyone was dressed in designer labels. Except for me, and I hoped I didn’t stand out too much. I clutched my simple brown leather bag, which was once my mother’s when she worked in an office years ago. It now held everything in it, my notes and my laptop, and I suddenly felt protective. The contents of this bag would determine my future.

“Miss Woodall?” the receptionist said.

“Yes?” I replied, standing up.

“They’re ready for you.”

The door to the office opened and a tall woman with short blonde hair stood smiling at me. I walked over to her and she extended her hand. We shook, and her fingers felt strong but soft, and her nails were neatly manicured. Her legs were long and she was absolutely stunning. She was what I imagined Darcy would become in a few years, mature but still radiant.

“My name is Janice Shear. I’m Mr. Green’s assistant.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Shear.”

“Please, call me Janice.”

I laughed nervously. “You call me Amy, then.”

“Great! Please, right this way.”

I instantly liked Janice. She was warm and kind and something about her put me at ease. Maybe it was the way she looked like she was really listening when I spoke, even if we were only exchanging pleasantries.

Janice led us into the office, and I looked around. I couldn’t help but stare like a kid in a museum for the first time. The space was open, with very high ceilings and rows of long flowing desks down the middle, sectioned off by seven-foot plastic dividers. Someone occupied each section, and everyone’s desk looked like it was out of a movie. They were decorated with personal items, like pictures and toys, and it was all so colorful and lighthearted. Instead of the somber business look most places had, this one was modern and sleek. It was the opposite of the lobby I just came through, which was classic ornate and meant to show off their wealth. I couldn’t spot a single man wearing a suit jacket, and the women weren’t wearing heels, with the exception of Janice. The atmosphere was upbeat, loud but not overwhelming, and people were milling about, chatting in groups, or sitting at their desk with headphones on typing away.

There were other side rooms everywhere, and I thought I saw the kitchen. We walked down a short hall to our right, which was lined with glass enclosed conference rooms, some empty and some full, and took a left at the end. Up ahead were two large doors, wooden but simple. Janice stopped before we reached them.

“Okay Amy, this is where the meeting will take place. Mr. Green and Mr. Brown will be with you shortly,” Janice said. She opened the doors and moved aside for me to enter. It was a basic conference room, dominated by a single large table in the middle, and it could have seated twenty.

“Is there anything I can get you? Anything at all?”

“No, thank you,” I said. Janice nodded, and turned to go.

However, before she got out of the conference room, it sunk in that I had no idea who Mr. Brown was. “Oh, I’m sorry!” I said. Janice turned back patiently. “Who is Mr. Brown?”

Janice smiled. “Mr. Brown is Mr. Green’s lawyer.”

“Thanks,” I said, and felt a little embarrassed. Of course he was the lawyer, obviously there would be lawyers. I had never done something like this before, and I suddenly felt like I should have someone here with me. Panic rose up for a second, but I took a deep breath to stay calm.

“Don’t worry. Royal Brown is a nice man, you’ll get along,” Janice said. For a second I thought she could read my mind, but she must have noticed my anxiety leak out onto my face.

“Thanks, I hope so.”

“They should be here shortly.” Janice turned and left, closing the doors behind her.

I sat down in the center of the room and placed my notes and my laptop in front of me. I turned the machine on and looked around. It was simple, not ornate like the lobby, and not quirky-colorful like the main office was. I felt more comfortable here, even though a stone of anxiety was sitting in my chest. I wasn’t used to fancy places like the lobby, having grown up with Dad in a suburb called Levittown. We didn’t have much, but Dad worked hard to provide for my two older brothers and me. I had never been in a space so clearly modern and light, like the main office was. Columbia had some spaces like that, but I mostly stayed away from them. I preferred the older buildings, big and blocky, with simple layouts and designs. They were more comfortable to me for some reason.

The self-doubt returned, but I pushed it away. It was going to be fine, I told myself, and tried to think about meeting my handsome stranger later that night. About his body pressed up against mine in a dark alley while he tried desperately to slide his hands up my skirt and to run his lips along my neck. Before I could get too lost in the fantasy, there was a knock at the door, and it opened.

I stood to greet them. In walked two men. The first was older, probably in his mid-fifties, rounder and tall. His hair was mostly greying but still shaggy like a teenager, which made him look kind. He walked right up to me and extended his hand, a big grin on his face.

“Royal Brown, lawyer to the stars, good to meet you,” he said, and we shook.

“Amy Woodall, app developer, and future app seller.” Royal laughed at my joke, which instantly made me like him, then moved to sit at the other side of the table.

Then I saw him. The second man moved to approach me. And my jaw nearly hit the floor.

I
didn’t know how or why, but this man was my handsome stranger, the same one I messaged just this morning. I was positive it was him, and I could only stand there staring. He looked as surprised as I did though, and there was an awkward pause as we stood facing each other.

In his pictures, he was never looking straight into the camera. His head was turned and the lighting was dim, which made it hard to make out the details of his features. Plus, Shane Green, the billionaire owner of Adstringo, was notoriously private, maybe obsessively private if the blogs were true. There weren’t many pictures of him out there. But this was definitely Shane Green, and Shane Green was definitely the same man I had sent very explicit, very dirty texts to.

He was better looking in person. Maybe late thirties, mature looking and handsome. His eyes were the same flint blue from the picture, but close up they were deep pools, enough to get lost in. His tailored suit clung to his well-worked body, and I couldn’t help but run my eyes up and down him. He looked and felt like he owned the room, and radiated a confidence that I was completely unfamiliar with. I suddenly felt like I didn’t belong there, even more than I already had. I noticed he was doing the same thing to me, running his eyes up and down my body, and I was suddenly conscious of the way my skirt clung to my hips and my shirt accentuated my breasts. I hoped he could still take me seriously, even if he had already seen a picture of me pressing my tits together for him. I had never met someone I felt such an immediate and powerful attraction to, and now I understood why a single picture had made me want to suck his cock with abandon. I felt embarrassed but excited all at once. His nearby body was like a beacon for me, and although we were still complete strangers, I found myself wanting to press as close against him as I could.