by Riley Storm
That brought a fresh memory that threatened to leave her red in the face if she thought about it too much around the others, so Cheryl quickly moved on.
“Let’s just focus on our own parts to play in this,” she said, quieting the chatter. “That’s all we can really do anyway. For now.”
Something in her voice must have given her away, because all three heads of her subordinates turned to look at her.
“What aren’t you telling us?” Stephen asked.
Think! Think fast, before things get awkward.
“I, um—”
Cheryl was saved by the appearance of a silhouette behind the frosted glass doors of the conference room.
“He’s here,” she said, because the size of the person on the other side could only be one person. Not because she was positive that she recognized the way they moved. There was no way she had paid enough attention to him to know that.
Or so she tried to tell herself, remembering how he looked without the suit to hide his frame.
The door opened and Victor walked in, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and a piece of tubing grasped casually in one hand, fingers overlapping around the cylinder.
Cheryl heard audible intakes of breath from her team. Angry inhales. Not that she could blame them, given the shit-eating grin Victor was wearing on his deliciously handsome face.
“Hello everyone,” he said jovially.
“My, you’re happy today,” Liz muttered loud enough for everyone to hear. “Come to make more budget cuts to ruin our days?”
Victor frowned, fixing Cheryl with a questioning glance.
“Don’t look at me,” she protested. “I have no idea what you’re up to.”
“You didn’t tell them?” he asked.
To her surprise, Cheryl realized he was hurt by the anger being directed his way. As if he’d expected some other sort of reaction from a bunch of people he’d royally fucked with.
“Tell them what?” she asked incredulously.
“About the other day. At my House.”
Cheryl closed her eyes slowly, wishing she could just melt into the ground.
Why did he have to say that? And say it that way? Oh God, please, just get me out of here now!
“You went to his house?” Liz asked, slowly. “To Victor’s house? You were there?”
“Maybe,” she said, burying her face in her palms.
“Why are you so ashamed?” Victor asked, sounding genuinely confused. “All we d—”
“You. Stop talking. Now,” Cheryl ordered. “Right now. Stop talking and start explaining.”
Victor hesitated, his face bunching together. “Which one is it?”
Cheryl blinked. “What?”
“Well, do you want me to stop talking, or start explaining? I can’t do both.”
Frustration was building in her shoulders. This couldn’t possibly be happening this way.
“Talk about today. Here. Now. Why do you look so excited? What have you planned now? That’s what you’re going to talk about.”
She looked straight ahead, ignoring the looks her team was giving her.
I am not going to get out of this very easily.
“Well,” Victor began, looking around the room, hesitating at the hostile looks three of the four people were directing back at him still, their attention moving back and forth like the attention of tennis fans, flitting between their boss and the man they considered their enemy.
For her part, Cheryl just sat absolutely still, wishing they operated like the T-Rex and wouldn’t be able to see her if she didn’t move.
It didn’t work.
“I’d expected there to be a different, shall we say, atmosphere, in here today,” Victor said, continuing at last. “But it seems it’s going to be a surprise instead. So, I hope you’re all ready to put in some overtime.”
“Overtime?” Liz asked incredulously. “Why would we do that for you? All you’ve done is—”
“That’s quite enough,” Victor said, his voice remaining the same level, but somehow managing to slice through Liz’s icy tone with ease.
Cheryl knew she should be intervening, that she should be taking charge. “Both of you, simmer down,” she said, forcing the words out, knowing it would bring attention back on her.
There’s no getting away from it now. You’ve made your decision; now it’s time to live with it.
“Tell us what you have, Victor,” she said into the silence that followed as four sets of eyes focused on her. “And it had better be a good reason for wanting us to put in overtime.”
“Of course,” the dragon shifter said, putting the tube on the table finally, though he didn’t immediately open it. Instead, he unslung his backpack and withdrew a laptop. “But if it’s okay with all of you, I’d rather show you?”
She motioned him to the hookups for the projector mounted on the ceiling.
“Uh,” the big man said, looking at it blankly. “Cheryl? Do you mind?”
She got up and went over to where he was looking back and forth. “You don’t know how to do this?”
He leaned in close to her head. “Remember that part where I’ve been asleep for the past century? I learned a lot, but there wasn’t an instruction manual for everything. All I can tell you is that it appears to run on some sort of electricity.”
Cheryl suppressed a giggle, knowing that though she’d stymied any sound, her shoulders had still shaken. A massive giveaway to her team.
“Enough,” she hissed just as quietly, fiddling with the laptop to get the proper connections set up. “And stop leaning in so close to me. I’m at work. Professional.”
“Meaning you didn’t tell them about us,” he replied.
“Us? What us?” she asked, finishing connecting.
“We’ll talk,” Victor said as the project came to life and broadcast the screen of his laptop onto the far wall. “Why isn’t it visible?”
Cheryl sighed and pulled the blinds closed, motioning to Stephen to hit the lights as he was closest. The image came into crystal clarity.
“Okay, there we go,” Victor said eagerly. “Now, everyone, pay attention. They told me all I had to do was double-click here and it would do the rest. So, uh, without further babbling from me, let me introduce you, to the Drakon Family Outreach & Support Center, located right here in Plymouth Falls.”
Frowning at his enthusiasm and the name change, Cheryl slipped into a seat next to Liz once again.
“What is this all about?” her subordinate asked.
“I have quite literally no idea,” she returned, staring at the screen as the program came to life.
No, not a program. A video, she realized almost instantly, an artist’s rendering of the Outreach Center by the—she inhaled in surprise at the same time as the rest of her team.
“Victor,” she started to say, but he hushed her down, just pointing at the screen.
“It’s huge,” Liz mumbled as the entire team from the city stared at the video, stunned.
Cheryl understood the messages now as she watched the video pan back to encompass the entire building. It was huge, easily the size of a city block, and five stories high, with one section arcing up to half again that height. Glass was everywhere, windows and panes, along with sleek metal and silky-smooth stone finishes.
Though she was watching the video, it was hard to stay focused. “You did all this in two days?” she asked, incredulous over what she was seeing. This… “This is bigger than the original.”
“By about ten percent or so, yes,” he agreed. “Aaric’s design was…dull. About ten percent bigger, but the budget is about twenty-five percent larger.”
“Why?” Liz asked. “From one extreme to the other? How do we know you’re not just pulling our chain?”
“He’s not,” Cheryl said, going out on a limb for him.
Victor met her eye and she saw an appreciation of her faith buried there, below the normally cool exterior. There was a tiny nod of his head in thanks, then he
flicked his eyes back to the video.
Cheryl smiled and sat back in her chair.
At least this should distract them from the fact I was at his house. I really don’t want to deal with those questions.
Then there was the matter of the ‘us’ Victor had referred to. Did he think they were an item now?
Cheryl’s smile slipped as she realized she didn’t know how she felt about that. Didn’t know at all.
Chapter 27
When the meeting concluded, her team broke up, each one of them taking a set of the thick plans with them. As Victor had said, there was a lot of work to get done, and the lawyers alone were going to have a field day as they went over yet another new contract between the town and the Drakon Family.
Everyone was excited, however, and that was a good thing. Cheryl nodded in dismissal, knowing each one of them would want to get to work reviewing it, learning the new design, layout, and seeing what their specific sections would revolve around, and how they would need to change the plans to suit regulations and the like.
It was the first time since meeting Victor that one of the meetings had concluded on good terms, and Cheryl felt a smile crease her lips as everyone got up to leave.
On her way past, Liz bent down to whisper in her ear. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the fact you went to his house. You’re going to spill the beans about that one,” she said.
“I doubt it,” Cheryl chuckled as Liz pushed the door open and disappeared, leaving her with Victor.
Alone, with Victor.
Almost immediately, he came over to her chair, stepping up behind it, fingers sliding down the back to find and massage her shoulders. A mild euphoria came over her as her muscles reacted to his touch.
“Why didn’t you tell them?” he wanted to know, digging a little deeper as she sank back into the chair.
“It hadn’t come up,” she said. “And I don’t know how. I’m still processing this all myself, Victor. What you…showed me,” she said, careful not to speak of it directly. “That’s a lot for someone to take in. A lot.”
“Do you regret what we did?” he asked, the pressure from his fingers fading tentatively for a moment before resuming.
“No,” she said after taking several seconds to think about it. “No, I don’t regret any of it. I might have if you’d come in here today and been the same old Victor from previous meetings. But you proved that you have changed, that you are also processing everything.”
“I see.” There was a long pause this time. “But you don’t want it to happen again, do you?”
She frowned. “I never said that.”
“Your body did,” he rumbled. “When I asked why you hadn’t told them about us.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.
“I felt it again, right now, in your shoulders. You can’t deny it.”
Cheryl reached up, grabbing his left hand. “Victor, listen. I…I don’t know what I want right now. Until a few days ago, I loathed you. Yes, we had sex, but that doesn’t mean we’re a thing.”
“It doesn’t mean we’re not, either,” he countered. “Until we talk about it one way or another. Unless you just used me for sex,” he mused. “Which doesn’t seem like your style.”
“I just don’t know, okay?” she said, emotions getting the better of her as her voice rose a level. She shrugged his shoulders off and stood up. “I literally just don’t know. This is a whole new side of you, a whole new you, and I don’t know it. You’re not the Victor I thought I knew. This is a good thing, but that doesn’t mean I know you well enough to want to be a thing with you.”
Victor was quiet, though he did take several steps around so they could look at each other.
“That’s a really good point,” he admitted. “So, come on.”
He grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle tug, tilting his head toward the door.
“What?” She was so confused she stood rooted to the spot.
“Come on. I want to show you something. You can spend some time with me along the way. Get to know me,” he said eagerly.
Cheryl hung her head, unable to keep a smile from her face. His earnestness was so endearing.
“I’m at work,” she countered. “And now I have a lot more of it to do.”
“Bah. That will happen. We’re working as a team now. There won’t be any obstacles between us. Just us against the construction workers and suppliers now. Come on. This is work-related anyway, I swear.”
Cheryl bit her lip, thinking furiously about whether or not she should go with him.
You got in the car with him after you saw him glowing. He turned into a dragon and didn’t do anything but wanted to make sure you were okay after. It’s probably safe to go with him now.
“Promise it’s work-related?”
“I do,” he sighed. “But even if it wasn’t, with the new plans, you’re going to be the mayor’s new favorite. Nobody is going to fire you. Trust me. They would regret that.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, letting him tug her toward the exit. “I’m coming. Wait! What about your laptop?” she asked, trying to turn back.
Victor just waved it off. “Forget all that. This is way more important. Come on!”
She laughed but did slip her hand from his before leaving the conference room. Until she knew what she wanted, Cheryl wasn’t going to start any rumors. “I’m coming, I promise. Are you going to tell me where?”
“No.”
“Please?” she asked, following him toward the elevator.
“Absolutely not,” he chuckled.
Try as she might, Cheryl couldn’t get him to change his answer. That lasted the entire trip through the municipal offices, getting into his car—now a beautiful sports car she’d never seen before, not the big blocky SUV he’d driven before—and all the way across town.
“I think I know where we’re going now,” she said at last.
Victor nodded, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the slim middle console, conspicuously close to her thigh, though not touching. But in perfect position for her to lay a hand on top if Cheryl so desired.
She didn’t, not at all sure what she wanted, and far too overwhelmed to make a decision just then. Too much was going on, and too much had changed. Slow was good right then, slow, thoughtful, measured.
Finish work, and then think about this all over a bottle of wine.
It sounded like the perfect plan.
“You’re going to like this, I know it,” Victor said as they took a right onto the street where the Outreach Center was to be located.
“A giant pile of rubble?” she teased lightly, not wanting to dampen his spirits.
The truth was, the more she saw of it, the more Cheryl was coming to like this eager, upbeat side of Victor. Perhaps it’s not even a ‘side’ at all, but more just who he is now. The real Victor, not the angry, self-loathing version that was there before. Perhaps this is what he was like before Elizabeth tricked him.
It still stung slightly to know that her ancestor, her great-grandmother, had stolen his treasure. The least she could have done was pass some of it along down the family. That was petty thinking of course, but it was natural.
Cheryl would have welcomed the wealth, even though her parents hadn’t struggled. In a country obsessed with money, one was always inclined to strive for more. Though that wasn’t the only thing she wished Elizabeth had passed on to her.
Magic!
Now that would have been really cool to possess. Just not my luck, I guess.
She glanced to her left at Victor, who was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the road.
Maybe I’m not as unlucky as I think.
Cheryl reached down and let her hand rest on his for a moment. Just a moment, however, and then she gave him a gentle pat and pulled away. “I hope so,” she said, starting to grow eager herself. What was it that he’d done out here?
The Outreach Center was going
to be located on a massive, sprawling piece of property that had once housed an old factory and warehouse. The buildings had sagged into disrepair, and then recently had been completely demolished into piles of rubble, while the rest of the land sat empty, overgrown with wild grass and shrubs or other remnants of the factory.
It was an eyesore and she couldn’t wait for the project to get underway, simply to clean up the landscape around it.
“Holy crap,” she yelped as they came over the last rise and the site of the factory came into view.
It was humming with activity. Several excavators were busy scooping debris and dumping it into the back of giant dump trucks. Other men and women were busy looking at drawings, pointing to one another and around the site. Workers in vests waved red sticks, guiding trucks as they entered or exited the facility, while still more walked around outside the debris area, surveying the land and making marks.
“You like it?” he asked, pulling to a halt on the street and killing the engine.
“How did you manage this?” she gasped, popping the door, eager to see what he’d done.
“I called up some construction firms in Plymouth Falls, told them what needed to be done, and said get to work,” the big man said proudly, getting out of the car and moving to the hood.
“Something wrong?” she asked, watching as he opened it.
“Not at all.” He reached down and pulled out two red hard hats.
“Right. Sports car. Engine in the rear,” she said, realizing he’d just dug into the storage of the car, even as he placed the hat on her head.
“Much more than a pretty face,” Victor teased, giving the hat a little rub.
“Stop that,” she said, exasperated, pushing his hand away with a laugh. “Come on, I want to go look!’
“Of course, lead the way,” he chuckled, gesturing with one arm.
Cheryl did just that, running across the road, one hand holding the hat in place, the other waving an apology to an irritated dump truck driver as he tried to pull out of the site, bin full of debris.