“Stand back.” I push him to the side and take the hose and clamp and his handkerchief from his pocket to use like a rag. I’ve worked on boats and small engines a lot of my life, and my lack of manicure makes it apparent. So much for smelling better. “Do you have any bottles of water?”
“Yes.”
“Pour some water in, then put the cap back on tightly. The hose looks like it’s in good shape, it just slipped off. Flat water . . . not sparkling.”
“Yes, it’s happened before. That’s why I have those clamp things in the glove box.”
“You need to get it properly serviced and tightened so it doesn’t keep happening.”
Charles shuffles to get the water from the back of the car and does as I’ve instructed. He’s moving quickly, but it won’t be quick enough for me to make my appointment on time. My hair is back to being a frizzy mess, and now I smell like antifreeze. Tears start to well in my eyes. How on earth does this stuff keep happening? I fix one thing and then something else falls to shit.
“Are you all right?” Charles asks as I close the hood and realize my cheeks are wet with tears.
“I’m going to be late now.”
“I’m very sorry.”
“I’ve blown my shot.”
“Shot for what?” Charles looks at me paternally. “I’m sure whatever it is you’ll work it out. This Jana woman must be understanding. Look at all you had to go through yesterday and today.”
“She doesn’t need to be understanding. And she won’t be. I’m one of hundreds of women who want a chance at her services. Life-changing services. And now some other girl will probably take my slot.”
“What kind of service is this?” His jolly looking face turns serious.
I sigh and wipe my cheeks dry. “It doesn’t matter. Can you please just take me there, and I’ll try to salvage this? Maybe she’ll take pity on me. I’m certainly pitiful.”
“Can’t you find another company?”
“Not like Jana Monroe. Not for what I want to do.”
He wipes his hands and stares at me curiously for a long moment. I’m not making sense. But I’m not going to sit here and tell him what I’m in the city to do. I haven’t told a soul. I’ve signed a nondisclosure with Jana, stating I would keep her services and practices confidential. Now I’ll never get the opportunity to figure out what was so special about her and what she does.
“Can we please just go?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Without thinking he opens the front door and waits for me to get in. “I’ll sit in the back this time,” I say with a sniffle.
I call Jana’s secretary, who informs me she is already in with another client. I ask if I could wait. She tells me she’s booked for the rest of the day.
Can I reschedule?
She’ll call me.
Is that the same as a no? I hate that I don’t know.
Charles looks at me with genuine apology as he moves to open the back door for me.
When his phone rings I see his eyes dart to me in the rearview mirror before answering quietly. I’m sure it’s Brice wondering why his driver is still out parading me around instead of back on the clock for him.
“Yes. I understand.” Charles closes the petition window between the front and back seat and it swallows up his voice, leaving me in silence. In thought. What would I be doing right now if I were back in Maine? Freezing my ass off at work. Then sitting alone in my grandmother’s house, missing her. Isn’t failing here better than barely surviving up there?
The question lingers with me as the city, its shimmering skyscrapers and herds of people, blow by. A bad day in Boston is still better than my best days in Maine.
That’s what I am telling myself anyway.
CHAPTER NINE
Brice
Savannah looks fierce, standing in my office door. Another interruption. Another break in my day. I’m angry with myself for arranging it. My eyes trace the curve of her breasts under the clean clothes she’s put on. She’s conservatively dressed, but I’m committing every inch of her to memory as if this were a much more intimate moment.
This is not me.
I’ve never been distracted by a woman. If I want her, I have her. No chase. No games. I fuck her until my name is the only word she can remember. Out of my system. Move on.
My intentions are always clear. But this? The way I’m picturing Savannah riding my cock as her perky tits bounce up and down but not planning to do anything about it? That’s a problem.
I move to the front of my desk and sit back against it. She comes to stand in front of me with sad looking eyes and pouty lips. Fuck.
“I missed another meeting with Jana. Can you believe that? I won’t be buying any lottery tickets any time soon. My luck has not turned.”
Her eyes are rimmed red, and I remind myself it was for her own safety. She may be disappointed, but she’s alive.
You’re welcome.
“It’s probably a good thing. You’ve put a lot of faith in a stranger who likely doesn’t deserve it.”
I’m late for a lunch meeting, but I don’t stand and put my coat on. Nothing has been worse for my schedule than Savannah in my office. Yet I don’t kick her out. I want to make sure she’s safe. I’d really like her mouth wrapped around my cock. Neither will happen if she leaves.
“What’s that mean?” She sucks in her lip and narrows her eyes at me. “My private life is not open for debate especially not when you walk around like you’re some mysterious agent for the government. Is Charles your driver? Bodyguard? Who are you?”
I fold my arms across my chest. The truth wouldn’t help either of us at this point. I snap back to the topic I brought her here to discuss. “What do you really know about this Jana Monroe? Nothing, correct? You have no idea what you might be getting mixed up in.”
“Mixed up in? I don’t know what you think is happening, but I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“Forgive me if I don’t believe that from someone who had their purse stolen within an hour of being in the city.”
Low blow. But true.
“Every time I think maybe you’re not a pompous know-it-all asshole, you find a way to remind me first impressions are usually right.”
“Typical American.”
“Excuse me?”
“In the age of the Internet, how do you remain naïve to how the world works?”
“Why do you say American like it’s an insult? Where are you from that’s so much better? And if it’s so great why are you here and not there?”
Our conversation was derailing. “My apologies. You’re correct; every country has merit of its own. I’m merely suggesting you proceed with caution when it pertains to someone you don’t know personally.” I shake my head and think of the little bit of information Simon provided. “Do you know what can happen to women who come into the city and meet strangers? Whatever she promised you will come at a cost. Nothing is free.”
“You think I’m penniless, don’t you? And an idiot?”
I open my mouth to argue, but she’s at least partially correct. I don’t think she’s dumb, but I’d bet my sister’s crown collection she’s broke.
She props a hand up on her sexy hip. “There is a cost to Jana’s services, and I’m happy to pay it. You have misjudged me, and that’s the only typical thing about this situation. Everything else is weird as shit.”
“What exactly are Jana’s services? She has virtually no information on her website. The nature of her business is not anywhere on her lease or on any public documents I could find.”
She takes a step back and gives me a long look. I’ve shown my hand. Something I never do. Another example of how Savannah is an earthquake to my plans.
“You checked into her?”
“I need to know who else is working in the building. Some shoddy secret organization hanging around is bad for my business. If the FBI bursts in we all look bad.” I set my jaw and dare her to challenge my answer.
She doesn’
t.
Instead she eyes me as though she’s onto me. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”
I find it surprisingly hard to breathe for a moment. I want to sweep her out of there, across the street to my place. The ride up to my apartment. Throbbing with the anticipation. The previous tenant had a practical sex den setup. Would Savannah like the swing? Playful restraint? If what she said in the elevator was true, she has no idea what she likes. What makes her wet? What makes her blur the lines of pleasure and pain? I could spend days mapping out those points.
Down boy. This is about taking care of her, not taking her . . .
“Before I forget.” She pulls my pen from her pocket and tosses it over to me.
My reflexes are quick. I snatch it out of the air and inspect it to make sure she hasn’t done anything to it. “You stole my pen?”
She huffs at me. “Borrowed.”
I crease my brow in disbelief. “You had some important letter to hand write and needed an expensive pen to do it?”
“No.” Her chest puffs, pressing her breasts upward seductively. Does she know she’s turning me on? “I was going to jab Chucky-boy in the eye if he was actually a creep instead of a hired driver. Turns out he’s just a lovely guy who didn’t need to be eye stabbed.”
I choke back a laugh. “How lucky for him. Please tell me you called him Chucky-boy to his face.”
“He seems to like the nicknames. I came up with quite a few.”
“I’m sure.”
“I’m going to Jana’s office now. I’m late, and Jana has no reason to give me another chance, but I’m willing to wait until she does.”
I haven’t known her long, but I already recognize that nothing I say will change her mind. My phone rings. It’s Simon with an update about Jana Monroe Enterprise.
I hold up a finger. Demanding with my eyes that she stays put. This could be the information that finally wakes her up.
“Speak. What do you have?”
“Nothing. I dug in deep to the dark web and there is nothing of concern with Jana Monroe Enterprise. No criminal history. No alerts to the Better Business Bureau. Whatever they do, it’s not tripping any alarms anywhere. I’ll put some other queries out, but as of now I have nothing concrete to raise concern. I’m trying to find out more about the woman herself.”
“Not what I hoped to hear.” I can see impatience growing in Savannah’s eyes. She’s itching to go, and I have nothing to change that. Well, nothing I’d feel right about unleashing on an innocent. “Keep me posted.”
After ending the call, I rake my eyes over Savannah. Devouring every inch of her, I notice there’s a fresh grease stain on her shirt and a slight unruliness to her hair. I think back to Charles and his short update.
She fixed the car. Why am I not surprised?
I can picture her leaning over the hood, brushing her hair out of her eyes with the back of her sexy little hand. She’s this odd mix of fierce and fragile. Capable but delicate. Innocent yet daring.
She motions toward the open door behind her. “I’m sure this is goodbye. Thank you for all of your help.”
“Be careful with this Monroe woman. I’d hate to hear you went missing.”
“Because you’d have to come looking for me?” That same damn smile is back. She’s getting a kick out of this.
I lean back, gripping the desk on either side of me. “You made quite the impression on Charles. He’d insist we do something.”
“Right. Tell Chuckles I said thank you.”
“You are one frustrating woman.”
“Eat a Pop-Tart, Brice. Chill out a little bit. You’re as stiff as your over-starched shirt.”
The word stiff slips from her mouth and is far sexier than she probably intended.
She has no idea how stiff I am.
“Bye, Brice.” She turns on her heel and sweeps her hair off her shoulder as she walks away. The sway of her ass in her slacks is hypnotic. Her hips were made for grabbing. Holding. Gripping tightly.
The scent she leaves behind is an odd mix of floral soap and some kind of car fluid. I walk out to the hallway in time to watch her enter the elevator. The same one she swore she’d never ride in again. She didn’t let fear stop her.
What the hell is she doing in Boston?
And is her bravado about to get her into a situation she can’t handle?
CHAPTER TEN
Savannah
“So that’s why I’m late and smell like antifreeze.” I can feel my chest growing tighter like a vice squeezing my ribs. Jana looks wholly unimpressed with my story. But what’s not clear is if she believes me.
I sat for two hours in the office of her secretary, waiting for a chance to explain why I missed another appointment, so I had plenty of time to hone my summary as well as my apology. Did it work?
“You’re an interesting woman.” Jana leans across her glass-topped desk. It’s intimidating in its New Age design. Much like her. It’s the focal point of the room. It looks almost dangerous with its stark modern style and sharp edges. The entire office is in contrast to Brice’s. His has warm leathers and inviting dark woods. This room looks sterile. New. Powerful in its own way. But not welcoming. I’d never be able to sleep on any of these chairs.
Jana’s silky strawberry-blonde hair is in tight curls resting on her shoulders. They look obedient as if they wouldn’t dare move out of place without her permission. Her dress is well-made gray wool with gold buttons down the front. A chunky gold necklace wraps around her neck, a matching bracelet on her wrist.
There is a flawlessness to her face. Not necessarily her features but what she’s done to enhance them. Makeup applied with precision. Perfectly symmetrical eyeliner. A matte lipstick that matches her skin tone perfectly. If I were let loose in a makeup store with a blank check, I still couldn’t come out with a decent palette for myself. Applying it is a whole other challenge. No one is ever around to show me these things. My grandmother was a simple woman who wore her very long gray hair in a bun. No makeup. No fuss. The money we had was never spent on frivolous things.
“I guess being an interesting woman is a good thing?” I edge out the words as if I’m creeping to my car on an icy day.
“You came to me in a unique way. I usually take referrals from former clients, and then I reach out to the person they suggest only if I think we’ll be a good match. If I decide it’s not a match, those people never know a thing about me or what I do. For you it was different. I didn’t have a chance to research you at all. Someone gave you my number. I’m still not happy about that.”
Although I know she’s already aware of the details, I rush to say, “My grandmother was ill. I was caring for her. After she died, her nurse gave me your phone number and told me you were what I needed. I thought it was strange, but I was curious.”
“People sign nondisclosures for a reason. Smoke and mirrors to keep my services elite. You made quite an impression on Holly. After hearing from you, I contacted her, and she was adamant I would not regret working with you. And you were”—she searches for the right word—“persistent.”
“Once I knew the kind of services you offered, I knew Holly was right; I need this. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to change.” I gesture down at my grease-stained clothes.
“It’s not about changing little things about yourself,” Jana cautions. She folds her perfectly manicured hands and lays them on her desk. “It’s about changing the trajectory of your life. It’s about owning up to what brought you to the place you are. This process is not a superficial altering of your appearance. It’s a mindset. I’m not certain you understand what it entails.”
“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to better my life.” My voice is urgent, and I know I’m bordering on desperate. That doesn’t seem like it would work for Jana. I force myself to chill.
“The story you just told me about last night and this morning is an example of what needs to change. The chaos. Th
e serendipity of meeting some man. You’re coming to me for a very specific reason. The choices you’ve made brought you to this place. Tell me, what do you think you’re here for?”
“To lose my virginity,” I grin. I know it’s more than that, but my humor might be the way to her heart.
Nope.
She shakes her head and closes her eyes for a long beat. “Sex is easy for a woman. You could walk out to the street right now and find someone who would sleep with you. Your virginity is a small part of your metamorphosis. People whisper about what I do. It’s more myth than anything. Let’s live in reality. You are a twenty-three-year-old virgin. That’s perfectly fine if that’s what you want. A choice you’ve made because of some belief you hold. But let’s not pretend it’s because you haven’t had any opportunity to have sex.”
“You know I was caring for my grandmother.” I fidget uneasily as she seems to look right into my soul.
“Savannah, I don’t care how small your town is. I don’t care what you were busy doing. There are men there. If you wanted it to happen it would have by now. I read through your entire questionnaire. All of your very detailed emails to me. The photos were particularly telling.” She winces a bit. “You need to figure out what you really want. Then I can help you.”
“I know what I don’t want.” A desperate wave sweeps at my feet again. “I’ve given so much of myself over the last five years. I’ve walked away from opportunities for fun and happiness. I’ve been on the edge of the diving board for years, my toes hanging over. I need you to shove me off the end.”
“No. You need a new pool. A new diving board. You need to learn how to swim. I don’t push. I guide. I provide opportunities. You decide what to do with them.”
“I can do that.”
“That being said, to be effective, there are rules you must adhere to. Trust is important between us. If you truly want to change, you must give yourself over to this process. The chaos and the man you met last night. The people from back home. You need to close the door on those things. I can only help you if you’re done hiding.”
The Bachelor Towers: Books 1-3 Page 41