"I don't know if I'd call it luck," James said quietly.
Marcus seemed to take this as modesty rather than the genuine truth. He leaned forward in his chair, his expression shifting from despair to something more desperate and calculating.
"Look, James, I need to ask you something, and I know it's weird, but I'm kind of desperate here," Marcus said, his voice dropping to a more confidential tone. "You're clearly experienced with women, I mean, look at you. You've got that whole mysterious, sophisticated thing going on. Women must throw themselves at you."
James felt his stomach drop at the completely incorrect assessment of his romantic life. If only Marcus knew how far from the truth his assumptions were.
"I want her back man. It's difficult to get a lady who'd be with me. I'm not the particularly handsome type women like, you know. God only knows how I ended up hired in this company."
"I need tips," Marcus continued, his desperation making him oblivious to James's discomfort. "Like, specific advice about how to leave a woman completely breathless in satisfaction. How to make her feel like she's the only thing that matters in the world. Susan said I used to know how to make her body sing, and now I can barely get her attention."
The request hit James like a physical blow, leaving him speechless and completely frozen. Marcus was asking him for explicit sexual advice, treating him like some kind of experienced lothario who could dispense wisdom about intimate techniques and bedroom strategies. The reality that James had never even kissed anyone with serious intent felt impossible to admit in the face of such desperate need.
"I..." James began, then stopped, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as he tried to figure out how to respond without completely humiliating himself.
Marcus interpreted his silence as reluctance rather than ignorance, his expression growing more pleading. "Come on, man. I know people don't usually talk about this stuff at work, but I'm drowning here. You clearly know what you're doing, help a brother out. What's in these days because I'm not about to do some porn sh*t. What techniques would you advise more on? How do you read what a woman wants or should I go study their anatomy? How do you make her lose her mind with pleasure without having to ask or her voicing it out?"
The words felt like they were coming from another universe, describing acts and sensations that James could barely imagine, let alone advise about. His face almost burned with embarrassment, his throat constricting around Victoria's silk tie as he struggled to find words that wouldn't reveal his complete inexperience.
"I don't think I'm the right person to…" James started, but Marcus cut him off with a wave of his hand.
"Don't be stingy man." Stingy? "Look at you…and that face, you're like something out of a magazine. You've got that whole strong, silent thing that drives women crazy. You probably have to beat them off with a stick."
Each compliment felt like another layer of deception that James was somehow participating in, building a false image of himself as some kind of sexual expert when the reality was that he'd never even been on a proper date.
"Marcus, I really don't think--"
"Please," Marcus interrupted, his voice cracking slightly with desperation. "I love her, James. I know that sounds pathetic, but I do. If there's even a chance I can win her back, can show her that I can be what she needs again, I have to try. And you're the only guy I know who seems to really understand women."
The weight of Marcus's pain and hope settled on James's shoulders like a physical burden. This man was coming to him for help with the most intimate aspects of his relationship, trusting him with his heartbreak and his desperate need to fix what had been broken. And James had absolutely nothing to offer except his own inexperience and confusion.
Before James could figure out how to respond without completely destroying Marcus's faith in him, the sound of heels clicking against marble flooring echoed from the hallway outside his office. His entire body went rigid with recognition and anticipation, Victoria was coming.
The footsteps grew closer, more distinct, and James felt every muscle in his body tense with the kind of anticipation that bordered on panic. She was here, she was coming to his office, and he was about to find out what her next move would be in this game he didn't know how to play.
Marcus was still talking, still pleading for advice about sexual techniques and relationship repair, but James's attention was completely focused on the approaching sound of Victoria's arrival. The silk tie felt like it was tightening around his throat, cutting off his air supply as his pulse hammered against his eardrums.
And then she appeared in his doorway.
Victoria Sharp in her Monday morning glory was a sight that made James's brain short-circuit completely. She was wearing a charcoal gray off the shoulder blazer suit dress that fit her like it had been designed specifically for her body, the skirt hitting just above her knees and the black stockings which emphasize her long legs and curves without being overtly sexual. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail that exposed the elegant line of her neck, and her makeup was flawless in that understated way that probably took an hour to achieve.
However it was her eyes that made James's breath catch in his throat. They swept over him with the kind of focused intensity that made him feel like prey being sized up by a predator, taking in every detail of his appearance with obvious satisfaction.
Her gaze lingered on the midnight blue tie for just a moment longer than necessary, and James saw something that might have been possessive approval flash across her features before she turned her attention to Marcus.
"Mr. Marcus," she said, her voice carrying the crisp authority that made grown men scramble to obey her commands. "I need to speak with James privately."