by J. D. Fox
“I wanted to confirm. 4:00 PM Friday at the Ritz-Carlton, right?”
It should have been an easy conversation, but the shock on Talia’s face and the evil look Jessica gave me told me I’d blundered. There was nothing to do but soldier on, though, so I added, “No worries, Talia. I’m more than happy to pick you up there. I assume you’ll have your suitcases.”
Now Talia looked like she wanted to kill me, and Jessica’s face told me she had murder on her mind as well. “Mr. Palmer,” broke in Jessica. “I need to talk to you about Jimble Mattresses.”
It was plain Jessica would not take no for an answer.
“In my office.”
And that conversation did not go well. She became loud and had I been a less patient man, I would have fired her on the spot. But clearly Lucius did not train his people well, and I could not blame them for acting badly— not yet, at least. By the time I’d gotten her straightened out on we run things in Palmer Corp, a good half-hour had gone by and my continual sinus headache had gotten a lot worse. I grabbed my suit coat and headed out into the Denver summer heat. As soon as the swelter hit me I wondered where I’d gotten the bright idea to wear a dark suit, before I’d remembered it was because I wanted to look good to the employees. Well, not all the employees... just one particular one, and I wondered just when I’d be getting my head out of my ass.
I sighted a familiar set of female curves striding down the street and clearly, my head was not out of my ass yet, because instinctively I followed her. Part of my executive brain function whispered this could lead to trouble, but another, smaller head was in control, guided by its direct contact to my nether regions. It was a particular pleasure to see Talia’s ass sway as she hurried down the street with her friend... what was her name? Ah, Eva. Her friend tagging along was okay, because if I did happen to bump into her then it wouldn’t look like I was stalking her, which I am not. They know better than me where the good restaurants were in this town, and I was merely following the crowd to the better eatery. A phone search only tells you where the restaurants are, and the owners’ five relatives’ opinions about them.
But Talia and Eva do not go into a restaurant... rather, a jeweler’s shop, and now I didn’t know what to do. I take out my phone to check my messages, of which there are none and then the internet for nearby restaurants. This took all of five minutes as I stood in the relentless Denver sun that seeped into my very bones, as if I needed any more heat in my life. I took off my suit jacket, draped it over my arms and considered returning to the office. It was then that my sea-level acclimated body succumbed to altitude, and I stood there without the energy to move at all. I sucked in air faster, which did not help. My head spun and the street bench on the curb across from the jeweler’s store looked appealing. I sat and took stock of my life to date, and I feel very foolish. I was here to work, to analyze and resolve the situation at my brother’s company, and I had no business chasing his fiancée down the road.
After exhaling a deep breath and slapping my knees, I stood, only to come face to face with Talia and Eva exiting the jewelers. Both had their faces buried in their phones so they hadn’t seen me yet. However, the moment could either get uncomfortable with their discovery of my new found stalker status, or I could appear proactive.
“Hello, ladies,” I said with a brilliant smile. “Escaped the office?”
Talia blushed again. “Lunch,” she said.
Perfect.
It took a few minutes to wrangle— I mean, get her agreement to go with me, and I breathed a sigh of relief when her friend begged off. This was getting better each moment, and soon she’d led me to the same restaurant where Lucius and I had eaten lunch yesterday.
Our hands reached for the door handle at the same time and Talia jumped back as if she’d received an electric shock. But her distress did not stop there, because the backward motion caused her to lose her balance and she fell backward. In a split section reaction, I grabbed her waist and pulled her in. She fell forward and her face landed in my chest, and if I’d thought she smelled wonderful a few feet away from me, her perfume was now so close that it intoxicated me. Intoxication is my only excuse, because when she turned her face toward mine, I lowered my head and kissed her.
My lips pressed against hers before I— God help me— took more, covering those delicate petals as I drank in the delicious sensations coursing through me. Her kiss sang through me, calling me, begging me to take more of her... when I touched my tongue to her lips, though, she jerked backward.
“No!” she said in horror. “Let go of me.”
She turned and fled, leaving me in lust-born shock. I was in so much trouble.
Chapter Seven
Talia
Lucius was right! His brother definitely outshone him in the player department. Imagine the scumbag lecturing me about the impropriety of office relationships, and then staring at me like he wanted to eat me while I sat in his office coaching him on the business; or grabbing me at the first opportunity and laying a hot kiss on me. I’m shocked, appalled and worst of all, horny as hell.
Why should Sam Palmer make me hot? I despise a man who preys on his employees. If my body didn’t get the message I’d blame my primitive reptilian brain. Because I’ve hidden everywhere I can in this office except the supply closet, where I will not go for fear of discussions about cleaning supplies for cum stained clothes. I had to make a break for it. After gathering my things, I dashed toward the door.
I crashed into Eva as she was returning from the break room. Predictably she held a bag of popcorn, and my collision with her sent a bunch flying from her bag. She stepped back. “Whoa, where’s the fire?” she said.
At the suggestion of heat, my cheeks flamed; right then I was so heated I will explode.
“I’m leaving.”
“Something wrong?” she said with concern. “Your mom?”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Does Mr. Palmer know?”
My fists balled at the mention of Sam’s name. “Who the hell cares?”
“Did he do something?”
“No,” I said. I was not about to betray my secret fantasies, even to my best friend; it would fan the flames within me to openly acknowledge my feelings. I rathered that these thoughts about him that ran through me more perniciously than the flu just died a natural death. I was going to do this by shutting off all oxygen to them. I will not see him. I will not speak to Sam Palmer or about him.
I moved forward, but Eva grabbed my arm.
”How will I get home?”
Oh damn. In my rush to escape this ridiculous situation I forgot about my best friend.
“I’ll pay for an Uber.”
Instantly Eva’s face morphed into concern. “This is serious if you’d pay cash money for my ride home. What happened?”
I snorted. “I already said— nothing. If anyone asks, say I took the rest of the day off.”
I shook off her arm and tore toward the stairwell, determined to avoid Sam Palmer at all costs.
The elevator door pinged. As I ducked inside the stairwell door, I heard Sam asking for me. Eva, my best friend forever repeated what I said, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I waited inside the stairwell to make sure he didn’t hear my heels clicking on the concrete stairs, and I peered through the small window in the door to see Sam heading for the elevator.
Disaster! Not only is one Palmer my fake fiancé; the other Palmer doesn’t care, and now I’m in the middle of both of them. This can only spell two horrible words: Career Disaster. This sort of thing blossoms into a reputation that follows a woman. It’s a career ender, and does not matter if the woman wants nothing to do with the man. Somehow, it’s always the woman’s fault.
The Eva blew up my phone, first with a text and then a call, which I had to answer. Otherwise, Sam would be able to find me from my ringtone.
“What the hell is going on?” she said.
Dear God, please make this go away.
“Sam
kissed me,” I whispered.
“What?” she crowed. “He did?! AMAZING!”
I opened the door to the next floor and peered around the corner to see if I could make a break to the elevator. “No. Not good. This is the end of my career.”
She scoffed. “You are overly dramatic.”
“No, I’m not. You remember Theresa, from college?”
“Yeah?”
“She said that at her first job one of the managers- not her direct boss- developed a crush on her. He’d ask her to lunch in front of colleagues, and hang around her desk, and she couldn’t do anything to discourage him. But horribly this guy was married, and the gossip spread that they had an affair. It didn’t matter that she didn’t so much as touch him. Perception is reality and in the end, she moved away and started again in another state because the guy ruined her career reputation.”
“Yeah, I remember now. But listen- I’m sure Mr. Palmer meant no such thing. He looked upset.”
“Of course. I’m sure if I said something to Lucius, it would cause a huge family fight. I’m engaged to Lucius.” I peeked around the corner to scout if it was safe, and slipped into the second elevator.
“No, you’re not,” huffed Eva into her phone.
“A thirty-five thousand dollar ring says otherwise.”
I could hear her smirk. “Which means I won the bet.”
“No. You said fifty thousand.”
Eva scoffed. “Close enough. Where are you?”
“In elevator two going to the parking garage.”
“How did you get there?”
I put my hand over my mouth and released a long breath. Hiding from the boss who’d kissed you was exhausting. “Got off on the next floor and pressed the elevator button.”
“What if he’s in the parking garage?”
“Then he’d have to search three levels. I’m sure I can avoid him.”
“I still think you’re overreacting, especially since you want him to kiss you.”
The woman is annoyingly persistent. “I do not.”
“Ha! Your twenty-four-hour deodorant disagreed. If failed the moment you met him.”
I want to kill Eva Roman for showcasing my odor control dysfunction.“You are the worst roommate and best friend ever.”
“Slow your roll and let him catch you. You can thank me later.”
“Good-bye.” I hung up the phone, fuming at Eva’s words. How dare she suggest that I wanted Sam. I did not. I have no time for romance, thank you very much, and I have this fake engagement to manage.
Peering through the elevator doors, I checked for the all clear. Thank goodness he didn’t know what my car looked like. My heart pounded as my heels clicked on the concrete as I dashed to my vehicle as if a slasher was stalking me. And that’s exactly what Sam Palmer was. He would murder my career and steal any chance I had of taking care of my mother properly.
And yet, you made googly eyes at him.
This thought came from some region in my brain that still subscribed to common sense. My face flushes in horror that I had, indeed made what my mother would have called “googly eyes” at Sam Palmer. What the hell was wrong with me?
My hands shook as I unlocked the door that was so old it did not know what an electronic key fob was. Finally, the door opened and I threw my purse and my body inside. Just as I’d shut the door, hands hit my driver’s side window with a thud and I jumped. Sam’s face peered inside my car. Holy hell— he’d found me.
“Talia, wait. I’m sorry.”
I started my engine.
“If you don’t move away, I’m running over your eighteen-hundred-dollar handmade Berluti shoes. And I don’t care if your feet are inside them,” I yelled through the glass, because no way would I open my window to Sam Palmer.
Sam’s face contorted into an expression of extreme regret. “Please let me apologize.”
“Fine. Say ‘I’m sorry’ by moving away from the car. Otherwise you will spend the night in the ER with a buxom nurse taping your toes.”
“Talia, please,” he appealed, as if he were in pain. Damn— he wore the same puppy dog expression Lucius used on occasion, which steeled my resolve. Lucius pulled that sad ‘you must save me look’ on me whenever he needed me to pull his ass from the fire, and it was pure manipulation. I needed to remain strong; there was no way I’d allow those warm caramel brown eyes assail my melty soul.
I shook my head fiercely.
“Fine,” he said. “If it takes you assaulting to me get you to listen I’ll stand right here.”
I lowered the window just enough because I’m not sure I heard him right.
“You want me to hurt you? Is this a joke?”
Sam stared at me with firm resolve.
“I’m not joking and I’m sorry. I lost my head. Please don’t run off.”
“Look, I don’t know what your game is, but see this thirty-five thousand dollar rock on my hand?” I waggled my left hand. “It says I’m off limits. No ogling, no touching, no kissing— nothing. And if you haven’t gotten the memo, I’m here to work, period. So take your Palmer playboy playbook and stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.” I turned the key and some angel must have been watching over me because it turned over on the first try. I gunned the engine. “Now get out of my way.”
I glared at him and he jumped back.
“Hey,” he said. “Where are you going? I thought you were here to work.”
“Not today. I’m taking the rest of the day off. Bye.”
I backed the car from the stall and sped too fast out of the parking garage, leaving Sam Palmer to suck the exhaust from my tailpipe. Only after I’d rolled onto the street had my heart stopped pounding.
What the hell would I do now?
What was my problem? Why was I running like a scared rabbit? I examine this as I navigated the streets to my apartment. I think of my life and what I’ve had to do to get where I am. It was just my mom and me for many years, living paycheck to paycheck. I got a job at sixteen so that I could buy my own clothes. I bought my first car for five hundred dollars and the insurance took every dime I earned. Mom joked that she didn’t have to worry me about when I was a teenager because she knew where I was— working. It paid my way out of poverty. I worked two jobs while attending college while I lived at home. I went to community college for the first two years before transferring to an upscale college where I saw how kids that did have money lived. These people never worried about anything. They weren’t bad people, but they had a different perspective. They didn’t have much to lose, while if I slipped up, I’d fall back into the same hopeless place.
People like Sam and Lucius don’t have to worry. Lucius might not have been his father’s favorite son, but he got his own company just for being a Palmer. No doubt Sam would too. Me? Owning my own company is only a dream and in the meantime, I had bills to pay. College loans, rent, food, and giving my mom to have the best care she could get. She deserved it; Mom had done everything for me.
I’d put Lucius in his place when he first moved on me. For him, it was all fun and games, but I couldn’t afford to play and lose what I’d gained. Lucius didn’t like it, but he also saw where my efforts improved his bottom line. Jessica is, at best, a so-so manager and Martin just wanted to play golf and collect his paycheck. Their dreams didn’t include climbing the corporate ladder. And even if Palmer Media wasn’t the right kind of ladder, I needed this job reference to go to another employer. Shtupping the boss got you the kind of reference that only allowed you to climb one thing— into bed with your next boss.
At the next intersection, where a left turn would take me to the nursing home, I took it instead of going home. I could pack my mom’s things for the move tomorrow— providing I’d still have a job after threatening to mash my boss’ toes with my car tires.
How did my life get to be such a mess?
The place stank even more strongly of industrial strength cleaner, with a undertone of more human waste than usual. I was so gl
ad I’d be moving Mom out of here tomorrow. I couldn’t even think that I might have lost my job. I had Mom’s first month paid; I’d just have to figure out another way to get the money.
I stowed my frown by my mother’s door. There was no need for her to see how worried I was.
“Hi, Mom!” I said cheerily.
She raised her hand shakily in greeting, and I was thrilled. It’s the first time she’d moved her hand in two months.
“How are you feeling?”
“Home,” she said.
I could imagine her trapped in her stroke-ravaged body, desperate to do anything to go home. How I wish I could’ve given that to her. But not yet. Not now.
“Yeah, Mom, I know. But you need to get well first, so I’m taking you to a new care facility.”
Mom sighed.
“It’s a very nice place, and they’ll have more programs to help you.”
“Hmph,” she muttered, as if to say “Don’t I get a say in any of this?”
“I know it’s tough because you’ve always been so independent.” I pulled my chair next to hers, sat and took her hand. “Let me take care of you so you can get better.”
“Can’t,” she said.
“You mean you think you can’t get better? It’s not true. The doctors say you have such a good chance of recovering. You can do so much more now, and it’s just been two months. Just work a little harder at this new place.”
She gripped my hand, another new thing since the stroke. “Don’t go,” she croaked.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m packing your stuff, and I’ll spend the entire day with you tomorrow to get you settled in: and Eva will come and see you too. You remember Eva, don’t you? My roommate?”
She rolled her eyes as if I’d insulted her.
“Of course you do. Anyway, I have to go somewhere for work this weekend, but Eva will come and spend time with you.”