by Shay Stone
He exits a few seconds later, tearing open the package to a protein bar with his teeth. I hear Nyla and Emily whispering frantically, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. I’d give anything to see the look on their faces right now.
“Okay. I’ll tell your dad you’ll be right in,” Emily says, rounding the corner almost knocking into me. A playful smirk tickles her mouth. “Memphis.”
“Emily,” I purr back, continuing into the breakroom. Nyla keeps her head down, barely glancing at me as she waits for her cup to fill. It’s amazing how just the sight of her makes my heart thump into overdrive. Every part of my body buzzes to life when she’s near. For the past few years, while I’ve enjoyed women, they’ve been little more than a job to me. But this one ….
She’s wearing a winter white sweater dress that hugs every curve, accentuating her tiny waist and full bottom. Her lips are painted ruby red and begging to be kissed. It takes every ounce of willpower I have not to pull her into my arms and comply to their nonverbal request.
“Coffee?” she asks, pulling another cup from the shelf.
“Uh, yeah. Please.” I cock a wary brow. “You’re not going to throw it at me, are you?”
“No. I promise.” She chortles, replacing her mug with mine and doctors her coffee while the machine spits black liquid into the other cup. “So, tonight’s the big date, right?”
“Date?” I’m flummoxed for a moment, racking my brain to recall if we made plans I’ve forgotten. Then it hits me. “Oh Mason! Yeah, he’s so nervous. He’s called and texted me about six times today. Sometimes I forget he didn’t get to do the whole dating thing growing up. This is all new to him. He was going through chemo when other kids were out being teenagers.”
“So, where’s he taking her?”
“Pizzapolis. And then I suggested they go see that new movie The Asylum. It’s looks pretty scary.” I tap my finger to my temple. “He won’t have to stress about making a move if she’s jumping into his lap.”
She turns toward me resting her hip against the counter. “Didn’t you say he met her at the cardiologist’s office?”
“Yeah.”
“So, let me get this straight. You suggested two kids with heart conditions go see a horror movie where things will be jumping out and scaring the hell out of them?”
My face drops.
“Yeah, I guess I didn’t think that through.” I pull out my cell and point to it. “I should probably call him.”
“Yeah, I think you probably should.” She chuckles, returning her attention to her coffee.
I reach the door, doubling back when I remember my main purpose for coming in there. “Nyla about the other night …”
She holds up her hand. “Let me stop you right there. I spoke with Jen yesterday and realized I may have overreacted a bit. Apparently, I get a little sensitive when I drink. And a tad bit slutty too.”
“I didn’t think you were slutty. I thought you were perfect. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied. I have no idea why I did.”
“It was partially my fault. I’m not a big drinker, and I think the alcohol had me feeling a little bold. I told you I was okay with a one-night stand when I wasn’t. That’s not who I am. And then I got mad when you came up with some excuse to make sure it was just that.” She picks up the cup and stares pensively at it before offering it to me. “I guess I just thought we kind of …”
“Connected,” I finish her sentence and reach for the mug covering her fingers with mine. She gazes at our hands watching my thumb stroke her velvet skin. Can she feel that crazy energy between us, too? I dip my head forcing her to meet my eyes. “We did.”
For one beautiful second, I see her walls coming down. But the moment’s over just as quickly as it began. She pushes my hand away. “Yeah, well it doesn’t matter now. You work for the company.”
“So?”
“So, haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘don’t dip your pen in the company ink?’” She turns away from me, mindlessly adding copious amounts of sugar and creamer to her coffee.
I take a step closer placing my hands on her upper arms and whisper against her hair, “But what if I really like the ink?”
She pivots to face me, straightening her spine. “Well, maybe I don’t like the pen.”
“Oh, I think you like the pen. In fact, I think you’d like the pen a lot more if you’d use it a time or two.”
Her head drops back on a laugh as she pushes past me. “I have enough pens already. I don’t need your pen.”
“Yes, but wouldn’t you like a pen that doesn’t require batteries?”
“Ha-ha, look who thinks he’s funny. Did you learn anything from the sexual harassment seminar?” She takes a sip of her coffee and grimaces. “Whew, that’s awful. Why is it so sweet?”
I take her cup and add the one sugar and double cream she originally put in her cup into my mug and offer it to her. She declines with a wave of her hand. “Keep it. I’m going to run next door and get one of those amazing chocolate croissants and mocha lattes.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be meeting with your father?”
“Crap! Yeah, I am.”
She reaches for the cup and I pull it back just out of her grasp. “You know it’s not sexual harassment if you enjoy it.”
She fights a smile. “Just give me the damn coffee.”
“It’s yours … if you agree to have lunch with me. Oh wait! You’re having lunch with Emily to talk about … what was the word you used again?” I ask, tapping my chin with my finger. “Oh, I remember! Amazing. To talk about what an amazing kisser I am.” The cutest pink hue spreads across her cheeks. If it was physically possible to die from embarrassment, I think she’d keel over. “How about dinner?”
“I already told you ‘no.’”
I make a loud buzzer sound and pull the coffee back again. “Ohhhh, I’m sorry. The answer we were looking for was, ‘Yes, Memphis. I’d love to have dinner with you. What time should I be ready?’”
She shakes her head laughing and snatches the mug from me. “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”
“Oddly charming, isn’t it?”
“Charming … annoying … po-ta-to … po-tah-to,” she teases, leaving me in the breakroom. Without thinking, I take a sip of the coffee she left on the counter spitting it into the sink as soon as the saccharine concoction hits my tongue. The first chance I get, I sneak down to the café to get her the pastry and drink she mentioned and have them waiting on her desk when she returns.
Back at my own desk, I clear out her code and settle on tackling the manufacturing department first, relatively certain it’s the one place I shouldn’t find anything with Nyla’s fingerprints on it. I’m elbow deep in auditing when that sexy scent of honey and orchids catches my attention. Nyla is propped against the partition opening to my cubicle holding the latte and treat I brought her.
“Was this you?” she asks, raising the glassine bag.
“It was.” I smile, watching her saunter over and sit on the edge of my desk, wishing she’d chosen my lap instead. She sets down her latte and tears off a piece of the croissant popping it into her mouth. Her lips mesmerize me, and I can’t help wondering when I’ll be able to taste them again.
“You shouldn’t stare. It’s impolite.”
“Then don’t be so damn beautiful.”
She cackles, placing another piece of pastry in her mouth and licking a bit of chocolate from her thumb. “Wow! Did you come up with that line all by yourself or did you read it on the bathroom wall of some dive bar?”
“I’ll have you know that is a Memphis Drake original,” I say, rising to my feet, peeking into her bag. I reach for a piece of croissant, but she snaps the bag closed, drawing it to her chest.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t brag about that.” She gazes up at me with playful eyes, unable to suppress a smirk and opens the bag pulling off another section to eat. “Did you call Mason?”
“I texted him.”
“
Good. Please tell me he has someone besides you to go to for dating advice because you kind of suck at it. From what I’ve seen so far, you’re terrible with women.”
“I am not,” I say with a little too much indignation. “I’m great with women. Most happen to find me irresistible.” I take another stab at the pastry, but Nyla smacks my hand away. “Ow! Someone was absent the day they taught sharing in kindergarten.”
“Be glad I’m not Jen. She’d bite your fingers right off.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
She rips off a piece of croissant holding it up for me to take. I fold my hand over hers and lift it to my mouth sucking off the bit of chocolate that’s spilt onto her fingers. Our eyes lock having a conversation of their own. The electricity crackling between us could power New York. She sucks in a breath, and this time I know she feels it too.
“Memphis …” My name is said like a caution.
“Nyla,” I respond in the same tone, laying kisses to her fingers. I take the bag from her hand placing it on the desk and cage her in with my arms. My eyes drop to her mouth. I sweep my tongue across my lip and lean in. She stands, abruptly knocking her forehead into my chin causing my head to snap backward.
“Ouch! Sorry! I’m sorry,” she apologizes, rubbing the spot on her face where we connected. “I … I have to go.”
Before I can argue, she grabs her coffee, abandoning the pastry, and bolts from my cubicle as fast as those ridiculously tall heels will carry her. A quick glance over her shoulder tells her I’m bewildered. Frustrated, I rake a hand through my hair and find Emily leaning against the copier pretending to skim through a file. I say pretending because the file is upside down. Amateur.
“You should check out Juniper Valley Park tomorrow,” she throws out.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“A certain leggy brunette you haven’t been able to take your eyes off of since you got here might be there.”
“Edward?” I tease.
“Well, yeah, he might be there too. And he does have great legs. You should see him in shorts.”
“Thanks. Any idea what time I might bump into her … I mean him?”
“Eleven a.m. by the picnic tables. Go in through the North entrance, up the stairs by the bocce courts. If you hit the bathrooms, you’ve gone too far,” she says, closing the file and continuing on her way.
“That’s oddly specific.”
“Every weekend she’s either there or at some charity event.” She types something into her phone. “There. Check your email. I just sent you her itinerary for the next month.”
“Really? Thanks. Can I ask why you’re doing this for me?”
“Because I like you more than that Michael guy that’s been sniffing around her for the last few months. Sorry, I know he’s your friend, but I don’t trust him.”
Smart woman.
“You, on the other hand, seem like a decent guy.”
Okay, maybe not so smart.
“You’re also the first person who’s made her face light up in, well, I can’t even tell you the last time I saw her face light up like it has this past week. Yeah, kinda like that,” she teases, pointing to my face. “That said, if you hurt her, I’ll make your death look like an accident.”
I chuckle, but the threatening glare she pins me with tells me she’s not kidding. I clear my throat. “Understood. And thank you.”
With a curt nod, she pads off down the hall.
“Hey Emily?” She spins on her heels arching a brow. “What happened two years ago?”
The corners of her mouth pull down. “Sorry, sweetheart. That’s not my story to tell.”
ELEVEN
Exploit What They Care About
I kink my neck trying to sandwich the phone between it and my shoulder while struggling to get the key in the lock and not drop the pizza I’m carrying. “No, I wouldn’t bring her flowers tonight. Go out and then send her a bouquet tomorrow. Well yeah, they’ll be more expensive, but don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it. You still have the credit card I gave you? Good. Use that. Use it tonight, too. Don’t be nervous. Just remember to be a gentleman. Open all the doors for her. Pull out her chair. And don’t do all the talking. Ask her questions and listen to what she says.”
“And tell her she looks hot and you can’t wait to get her ankles behind her head,” Mike adds, tossing a ball in the air and catching it from his reclined position on the couch. “Oh, and make sure she knows she’s not the only bitch you’ve got on the line. She’ll be more likely to put out if she thinks she’s got competition.”
I roll my eyes. How has he ever gotten a woman to agree to go out with him? “Yeah, it’s Mike. Don’t listen to him. You treat Hannah with respect. I know, you know. I’m just reminding you. Shoot me a text when you get home and let me know how it went. Alright. Love you too, Mase.”
I set the pizza on the counter along with my phone and keys and rub the back of my neck. You’d think he was my son, the way I worry about him. I cast Mike a dirty look. “Really?”
“What? I’m just trying to help him out. Has he ever even had sex? You know if you were a good brother, you’d get him a prostitute and get him laid before he dies. Hell, I’d even be willing to throw in twenty for that. I mean, how much time can the kid have left?”
I’m across the room in a flash, yanking Mike up by his shirt and slamming him against the wall. “You shut your fucking mouth! You hear me? He’s not going to die. I’m going to fix this. I’m going to find the right medicine and the right doctor and fix it!”
“Are you going to find him a heart? Because that’s what you told me he needs,” Mike spits back, shoving me in the chest. “I’m not saying it to be a dick, Memphis. I’m saying it because you need to prepare yourself. If Mason doesn’t get a heart in the next few months, he’s probably gonna die, and you need to accept that. The kid’s been living on borrowed time for years.”
“No. That’s not gonna happen. I’m going to figure something out. If he needs a heart, I’ll find him a heart. I’ll bribe whoever the hell I have to or fly him to any hospital in the world. But it’s going to take money. Which I would’ve had if you hadn’t fucked up with Stapleton. Instead, I’ve got about twenty-five grand to my name and that’s disappearing fast. Not to mention the cops on my ass investigating me for embezzlement.”
“What? You didn’t tell me that.”
“Yeah, my lawyer dropped that little bomb on me the same night he told me Harlan got arrested and all his assets were frozen.”
“Shit. What’ve they got on you?”
“Nothing. I have no ties to the accounts Harlan used and the stuff I did for Vito is solid.”
“That’s good. Wait! What does Vito have to do with Harlan?”
“He found out about the job and forced me to launder money through the church. You know Vito, whenever he sees an opportunity …”
Mike ruffles his hand through his hair. “Damn, that’s not good. I mean that’s really not good, Memphis. If the cops find out Vito’s involved, it won’t be a simple embezzling case. They’ll throw everyone they have on it. Everything will be under the microscope. They’ll be looking through the books, photos, videos …”
“You think I don’t know that? Thankfully, I stayed away from the church and Harlan didn’t keep cameras in the main office. And you know how I am about pictures. Angie and I didn’t even have a wedding photo. I told her I was in witness protection and it wasn’t allowed.” I chuckle, still unable to believe she bought that bullshit. But to her, it just made me more of a bad boy.
“Yeah … yeah, that’s good,” he replies, still thinking.
I’m shocked he’s so upset. The son-of-a-bitch is actually worried about me.
“Mike, it’s okay. I promise.” There’s no sense in both of us stressing over it.
“What about the money you took for yourself? Can they trace that back to you?”
“I didn’t take anything.”
His mouth
drops and he glares at me like I’m an idiot. “Are you kiddin’ me? You mean to tell me you didn’t take anything? Not even the cash the church pulled in every week in collections? That shit was untraceable.”
“Of course not.”
He pushes past me, opens the pizza box, and grabs a slice. “Man, I don’t get you. What’s the difference between that and conning Angie into marrying you and getting the money in a divorce settlement?”
“There’s a big difference. The money collected was donated by members of the congregation to help the poor and the needy. If there was a chance that money was going where it was supposed to, I wasn’t taking it. The money from the divorce is money I know Harlan stole and misappropriated because he was greedy. Taking it, well it’s almost like Karma. I’m fucking the people who fuck people.”
“And who fucks you? Oh wait. Never mind. I know the answer to that. You fuck yourself. Man, your life must be hell. A con man with a conscience. Whoever heard of such a thing? Glad I don’t have that problem,” he says, plopping on the couch and flicking through the TV channels. “Seriously, Memphis, you can blame me all you want but if you would’ve skimmed off the top like a normal thief, you would’ve had that money.”
“Yeah, and then they would have evidence against me.”
“Not if you set it up right, and you know it. All you would’ve had to do was use a few shelf companies. I know you have some because you taught me how to set them up. And now you have another perfect opportunity to do it. But you won’t, and Mason’s the one who’s gonna suffer. But hey, at least you have your morals,” he gibes, resting the remote on his chest and returning his attention to the television.
His words sting. Is that what I’m doing? Risking Mason’s life because of some stupid code? Maybe he’s right. Maybe I should redirect some of Moreau Enterprises funds into my accounts. Even if I got caught, which I wouldn’t, it wouldn’t be before I could get Mason in with the doctor and get his surgery. Then who cares what happens to me? But then I remember my dad. Who’s going to take care of him and pay for his care? I’m not letting him end up alone in some state-run shithole facility. And fuck! Where would Mason live?