by Tessa Layne
"I think I need to go home and knit. My brain's too loud."
Ruben pulls me into a hug. The steady beat of his chest beneath my cheek acts like a calming force, but I know it's only temporary. As soon as I walk out the door, my thoughts will jump right back onto the gerbil wheel that has a permanent spot in my brain. "Do what you need to do, Squirt. You know where to find me." He kisses my head. "Maybe this is the start of something good," he says gruffly.
I doubt it.
I wish.
Tonight, the elevator ride to the eighteenth floor is oppressively quiet. The walk down the hall and around to the door of my corner apartment even more so. The heavy silence that greets me when I cross the threshold, while normally a welcome relief from the stress of my day, weighs me down. Tonight, it only serves as an amplifier for the riot of thoughts screaming through my head. I pull off my boots and leaving them on the shoe rack in the foyer, pad down the hall to my bedroom, pulling out my donut buns as I go. I quickly change into my favorite brushed cotton lounge pants and a soft tee, pull my hair into a low ponytail, then return to the kitchen to make myself a pot of chamomile-mint tea, my solution for life's woes.
While my electric kettle heats, I turn on my pink and gold lava lamp and plug in the paper lanterns that wreath my window. My latest knitting project, a frothy pale pink dress with a complicated lace pattern made with a fine-gauge cashmere wool blend, lies draped over the arm of my sofa. I can't remember exactly how I stumbled on knitting blogs during one of my sleepless three a.m. rambles through the world wide web, but I was captivated. And after devouring every blog I could for a week, on one of my rare Saturdays off, I ventured into a yarn store in Westport and the rest was history. I discovered that nothing calms the monkeys who rule my head late at night like the focus of a knitting project.
When my tea has steeped, I bring the pot to my coffee table, pull up Norah Jones on my phone, plug it into the speaker dock, and settle into the couch. The second my fingers touch the soft yarn, I can feel my heartbeat slow. I breathe in through my nose and let out a long slow breath, determined to shed Stockton and find my center. I succeed. For about five minutes, until my mellow is interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.
I don't bother looking through the peephole because there's only one person it can be at this hour on a Friday night. "What do you want?" I ask when I swing open the door.
Stockton's lost his tie since I left him at the Green Lady. "Can I come in?"
"No." I guess I'm not as calm as I believed.
His eyes glint with dangerous determination and I hate that my skin comes alive under his gaze. Anticipation whips through me, driving my heart into my throat.
He steps into my space, anchoring his hand at the back of my neck, and god help me, I lean in. His mouth, when it lands on mine, is alternately ferocious and demanding then soft and coaxing. I melt into him with a little moan, sliding my tongue against his and relishing the buzz of arousal running through my veins. I go on tiptoe as I wrap an arm around his massive shoulders, my other hand clutches his lapel. His hand lands at my waist, pushing up my tee to expose my skin. My nipples pull tight, my clit throbs. I've gone from zero to ninety in under four seconds and I have no shame. I don't care how wrong this is, or how much I'll regret it later, but I'll take anything Stockton gives and return it tenfold. He slides his fingers up my ribs to flirt with the underside of my breast. I'm on fire.
When he pulls away, his breathing is as ragged and harsh as my own, and the fire in his eyes has only intensified. "That," he says between deep pulls of air. "Was all me. And what I should have done two years ago. Goodnight, Penny."
He spins and disappears around the corner before my brain pulls out of its sex-crazed stupor long enough to form a reply.
Chapter Eight
Stockton
Two Years Earlier
"Penny," I yell into the front office. My girlfriend Lena is going to be here in ten minutes and I've spent all afternoon debugging code in a security patch we're supposed to deploy at midnight. Cameron and Drake are both out sick, and every time Penny probes the defenses, she finds more vulnerabilities. And my suit should have been delivered by the dry cleaners an hour-and-a-half ago. This day can go fuck itself. "Penny."
The second coming could have taken place in the time it takes Penny to appear in the doorway looking wide-eyed and innocent as she slowly waves her hands back and forth, fingers spread wide.
"Where the hell is my suit, and what in the hell is wrong with your hands?"
She cracks her gum, and waves her hands a few more times before answering. "Don't know, it wasn't my turn to babysit it. And it helps the polish dry."
"I'm not paying you to polish your nails."
"You're not paying me to keep tabs on your dry cleaning either," she points out. "Besides, I already got through the fifth round of testing. Vulnerability is still there."
"Where?" I growl.
"All it takes is a simple command line to start unraveling the password sequences. It's easier than playing Mario Cart."
I slap the palm of my hand on the desk with a curse and push to standing, pacing in front of the bank of windows. I check my watch. "How much longer?" Lena won't tolerate another broken date. Not after the week we've had. I like her. Really like her, and we've been together more than six months now, which has to mean something. My mother's so hopeful she's already hinted at giving me the engagement ring my father gave her. I'm not ready yet. Hell, I don't even know if I love her. But... maybe it's the best I can hope for given my life.
"Do you mean how much longer are you going to beat your head against a brick wall?" She gently taps her fingernails with the pad of her fingers, testing for tackiness. "I told you what I think you should do."
"That's going to take days to set up. We're supposed to deploy at midnight."
She turns around. "Suit yourself," she tosses over her shoulder.
I bite back a groan of frustration. I've never met so much brilliance and sass wrapped up in one human. And this afternoon, when I'm in a hurry, it irritates the shit out of me that she's right. I call down to Hector. "Scrap everything. When you have a sec, come up to the office and I'll have Penny walk you through what she thinks we should be doing." I check my watch again. Five minutes, and I'm not even ready. Where in the hell is my suit? "Penny," I roar, knowing that she'll ignore me.
I stalk around my desk, through the doorway and into the outer office where she works. I'm risking her wrath by asking, but I'm in a bind. I can't afford to be gone from my desk when Lena arrives.
"Do me a favor? Run down to the dry cleaners and see if my suit's ready?"
She laughs.
Her eyes sparkle as she looks at me and she fucking laughs. And I hate that the musical sound of it pulls my insides tight.
"I don't think so, Sir." She knows I hate it when she calls me that, but she has no idea it's because the way she says the word sends me to a filthy place no boss, especially no older boss should go. "You are welcome to walk down to the dry cleaners and get your own suit. Or-" She pauses for effect, mouth curling into a sly smile because she knows she's got me over a barrel. "You can pay me a hideous amount of money to do it for you."
"I don't have time for your blackmail today."
She looks like the Cheshire cat. "I think you're confused about what blackmail is, Sir. I'm merely asking to be compensated for activities outside my job description."
"At an unreasonable price," I grit.
She bites her lip and looks around the office. "Oh. Well, if you think you can find someone cheaper," her voice trails away and she turns back to her laptop.
"Fine." I reach for my wallet. "How much today?"
She looks at the ceiling. "Three hundred should do it."
"Three hundred?"
She laughs again, clearly delighted at her ability to poke the bear. But she knows I'll pay it because if I'm not here when Lena shows up, we're through. She's made that very clear. We might already be through, but a
t least I can try and salvage it.
I pull out three crisp one-hundred-dollar bills and hand them over.
Penny makes a point of licking her thumb and slowly counting out the bills before shoving them in her back pocket and giving me a salute. "See you in ten?"
Ten minutes will be too long for Lena's satisfaction, but I'll do my best to ignore the coding crisis looming over me and pour on the charm. It's not Lena's fault that everything went to shit today.
I step into the bedroom just off my office and pull a clean, starched shirt out of the closet. All of the C-floor offices have bedrooms with full baths attached. Sleeping and being able to clean up here is a necessity when so many of our meetings take place on the other side of the world. I shave as quickly as I can. Lena hates scruff.
Lena sweeps into my office as I'm buttoning my shirt, face perfectly made up, dark hair cascading down her back in a shiny curtain, diamonds at her ears. Her dress is a simple spaghetti strap sheath with a plunging neckline and a hemline that ends just below her ass. A wave of regret passes through me. There will be no removing that tonight. Not with the work in front of us.
"You look ravishing," I murmur as I adjust my cufflinks and kiss her on the cheek. She hates it when I smudge her lipstick.
She steps back, giving me a once over, but there's no warmth in her eyes. "Why aren't you ready? You're a wrinkled mess," she says in her thick Parisian accent. "We are already late."
"I know, sweetheart, and I'm so sorry." I start to work on my tie. "It's been hell today and I just sent Penny down to grab my suit. I promise it will only be a few more minutes." I head to the bar I keep in the corner. "Can I make you a drink while we wait? Gimlet? Vodka tonic?"
She wrinkles her nose. "You know I only drink champagne."
I pour myself a scotch.
Lena kicks out a hip. "I do not think you understand how important this event is."
"It's just a gallery opening."
"Just?" Her icy blue eyes widen. "Just an opening by Marcel LeFevre. And I am his muse."
It's moments like this that I'm reminded how much Lena craves attention. She posed for Marcel as part of a documentary about his work. The event will be covered by the European press as much as the locals. And any other night, I'd have no problem giving her all the attention. Lena is exactly the kind of girlfriend I love. An intelligent, beautiful companion who takes my mind off work. Someone who's passionate, yet emotionally uncomplicated. She's also exactly the kind of woman my mother would love to have as a future daughter-in-law - a fact that is not lost on me.
Hector shows up at the same time Penny arrives with my suit, a look of panic in his eyes that warns me the shit's about to hit the fan. "What is it, Hector?"
He eyes Lena and shakes his head.
I wave a hand. "It's fine. Lena's safe."
Hector clears his throat. "I ahh... don't want to be ahh... the bearer of bad news... but we have-"
"What he means to say," interrupts Penny as she hands me my suit and cheekily straightens my tie. "Is that he called Delhi to let them know we needed to push the deployment off, and... that's your phone ringing now," she says as my desk phone starts to chirp. "That'll be the vice-president of financial security for Delhi Bank." Penny gives me a cheery smile that says we're all screwed.
Lena rolls her eyes hard. "You are kidding me." She shakes her head. "I am not waiting for zis."
"Sweetheart, I know you're upset. This will only take a few minutes. Have Edward drive you down. I can be there in," I look at my watch. "Twenty minutes." That's pushing it, but all the VP needs is a reassuring call from me and I can hand the rest over to Penny and Hector.
Lena knows better. "I expect you to see me at seven or we are through." She spins on her stiletto and sashays through the office.
Hector chuckles quietly. Even he can tell I'm in the doghouse.
"Lena, babe... wait."
She pauses in the door. "Don't you babe me. You have been putting me off for a week and it makes me tzink zat you do not love me."
I think in time I could, but that's another conversation entirely. "Lena."
She cuts me off with a slicing motion. "Non. I refuse. It is obvious that you love her." She points to Penny.
Penny's eyes flare open, before her face pulls into a scowl.
I wait a beat too long before answering. "Lena, you know that's not true. I can't help-"
Her eyes narrow. "I am right about zis. I will take my affection elsewhere. To someone who doesn't keep me waiting. Goodbye Stockton." She tosses her dark hair over her shoulder and stalks out of the office. Penny and Hector exchange a glance, only Penny doesn't even attempt to hide her amusement.
"Good riddance," she mutters under her breath.
"Why do you say that? Lena's fantastic." Except for her temper.
"Only when you're around. When you're not, she treats me like I'm nothing more than your secretary."
"Well you kind of are," chortles Hector.
Penny turns the full force of her irate gaze on Hector, poor guy. "Shut up, Hector, or I'll superglue your laptop to your Iron Man cutout."
I don't like hearing this about Lena. Penny's one of Steele Conglomerate's most valuable assets. And while she helps me with all sorts of personal stuff as well as kicking ass with coding, it's not because I think of her that way. It's only because she's the only one capable of handling all the balls we have to juggle. "Why didn't you say anything?"
She rolls her eyes. "It's not my job. And I'm not going to be a tattletale." She waves her neon yellow fingertips at me. "You can date whoever you want. Personally, I don't know what you see in the women that traipse through here, but whatever."
Well, shit. I feel like I've been weighed in the balance and found wanting. "Look, why don't I order some takeout? The three of us can figure this out over Thai."
I type an order into the local delivery app and the three of us get to work implementing Penny's security suggestions. I've just tipped the delivery guy at the elevator when the alarm on my watch goes off. I check it and a calendar notification comes up, but not for the gallery. It's for the Kansas City Sports Clubs fundraiser, where I'm supposed to be in twenty minutes. It's an annual event where the owners of the local pro clubs and the coaches from other local amateur teams get together to raise scholarship money for vulnerable kids across the metro. It's a big deal, and this year I'm supposed to be representing the Kansas City Kings. Harrison will be there as well, representing our rowing club.
Shit. Damn. Shit.
This is a plus-one event and I told Harrison I'd bring Lena with me right after the gallery opening, and I've completely forgotten about it. Fucking hell.
"Penny," I holler, rushing through the outer office. "I need you."
She snickers. "When do you not need me?"
"I mean it. I've got this thing."
"Oh, is it catching?" she says, winking at Hector.
"Stop being a brat for half a second. It's a fundraiser for a big sports nonprofit at the President. I'm supposed to be there representing the Kings."
"Okay. Hector and I can keep going."
I shake my head. "No. I need you to come with me. You're the only person who can talk about the predictive analytics algorithm we use for recruiting."
Her eyes narrow. "And you were going to tell me about this when?"
"Lena was going to be my date. It's pretty swanky."
"So you didn't need me when Lena was your date, but now you do?" She scowls at me. "I think you'll be just fine on your own. You know the algo."
"But you wrote it. And this is a plus-one event."
"And someone needs to stay here to deal with the Delhi Bank stuff."
"We can come back after and finish it."
She stares at me a full minute, eyes stormy, before speaking. "Maybe I have plans I don't want to break."
Her tone of voice implies these aren't just any plans. I hate the flash of jealousy that fires through me. I don't want her to have plans. "With who?"
"None of your business."
She's right. It's none of my business. "Well, you'll have to break your date. I need you to come with me."
Her eyes slide over to Hector. Her date's with Hector? Now I'm pissed. We have a strict no inter-office dating policy.
"Sorry, Hector," she murmurs quietly.
He offers her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, the team will take you out next week once Cam and Drake are back. We'll have more fun when all of us can be there."
"Wait. Why's the team taking you out?"
Hector grins. "Our girl's twenty-one today. Have to take her out for celebratory shots."
I look to Penny. "It's your birthday?"
"Last time I checked, it was." Her jaw's tight and I can see the sparks flying off her. She hates it when I pry.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"I'm not a big birthday person."
Then it hits me. With all her years in the foster system, birthdays probably went unnoticed. Her birthday was certainly overlooked by us last year. I think back to a year ago. The two of us were in Phoenix for spring training. Working. She never said a thing. God, I'm such an ass.
"Look, it's no big deal. We were just going to go out and have a few shots."
A primal part of me roars to life. If anyone's taking Penny out for shots, it's me. Not Hector and definitely not the damn cybersquad. I'm her boss, and I should have known. I make a decision then and there to push Delhi off. They can cool their jets for forty-eight hours while we work on a better solution to their problem. Harrison will be pissed, but he'll get over it. I clap my hands together. "Look, I'll take Penny out to grab a bite after this event and make sure she has her birthday shot." Penny scowls and opens her mouth to protest, but I keep going. "If you want, we can strategize frameworks over dinner and hit this again in the morning. A good night's sleep will do us some good."
I don't know what it says about me that I'm far more excited to go to a fundraiser with Penny then troubleshoot over food than I was to a posh gallery opening with Lena, but I'm determined to not examine my feelings too closely.