Sexy Savior: A Hero Club Novel

by Kayt Miller

  “We’ll need to come up after hours to get that carpet cleaned.” Hal visibly shivers. “We were able to locate the origin of that smell, and that’s been removed as well.”

  The origin of the smell? Now it’s my turn to shiver.

  We’ve stacked up all the papers and folders and so on onto the sofa and chair in the sitting area. We made sure not to throw anything away that looked like it was related to the job, just garbage like wrappers and empty boxes.

  I peek into Sam’s office and count five large garbage bags filled to bursting. Wow.

  “Thank you,” I say with a smile. “I appreciate how fast you got up here.”

  He chuckles. “We’ve wanted in there for months, but he… Sam wouldn’t allow it.”

  Why?

  “Well, you won’t meet with any resistance from me.”

  Leaning forward, Hal whispers in my ear, “We found sixteen empty bottles.” He arches his brow. “If you know what I mean.”

  Alcohol. “That may be something Graham needs to be made aware of.”

  “Up to you, ma’am.” He takes a step back. “We’ve left those in a box in the closet in case you wanted to handle that.”

  “Right.” Great. I was hoping Hal could be the bearer of bad news, but I suppose the buck stops here. “I’ll take care of it. Thanks, Hal.”

  “No problem, ma’am.”

  “Alison. Please call me Alison.”

  “Right, Alison. Have a good day.”

  “You too.”

  I watch as they remove their cleaning equipment along with the bags of trash.

  When I step into the office, the smell is considerably better, but something still lingers. “I need a candle or something.” I’m talking to myself, but Meghan is close enough to hear.

  “I’ve got one in my old cubicle.” She turns to leave. “I hope you like the smell of Christmas Essence, whatever the hell that is, because that’s all I’ve got.”

  I laugh.

  “It was a secret Santa gift.” She shrugs and she’s off.

  I really like that girl. It’s too bad I’ve only got a couple more weeks with her. Maybe we’ll be friends after all of this.

  Stepping farther into the office, I take my briefcase and purse and make my way over to the desk. The crew has stacked up the papers that were once strewn across the top of the desk and placed them on the upper left corner. The top of the desk is spotless; I can almost see myself in the dark finish. The large computer monitor is just as sparkling and placed at an angle on the opposite corner. I’m tempted to turn it on to see what he’s got on the screen, but I’m not ready for that. Besides, I’m sure I’ll need to get IT up here to let me in. I’ll save that for another day. Right now, I need to set up my own computer and check email first. Then I need to sit down with the managers and give them my expectations for the next two weeks.

  As soon as Meghan returns with the candle, she clears a safe place for it on the small coffee table next to the sofa. After she lights it, we both wait for the scent to waft into the air.

  “Cinnamon,” I say with a smile. “I guess that could be Christmas Essence.”

  “Thank goodness it’s not Santa’s Fart scented.”

  Oh my God. This girl. I crack up. She’s giggling too. That’s when I bend in half with my hands on my knees, laughing so hard that tears start to flow down my cheek. Because of that, I miss the sound of stomping feet as they enter the office.

  “What the fuck is going on in here?”

  My laughter stops as I jerk back up to my full height. “Sam?” What’s he doing here?

  “I asked you a fucking question. What are you doing in my goddamn office?” He scans the room, and I know what he’s going to say next. “Who the fuck cleaned in here?”

  “Maintenance,” Meghan says softly.

  His head rotates slowly until his eyes meet hers. “Clean out your fucking desk.”

  “Uh….” I’m about to tell her do no such thing when Sam stomps closer. So close that I get to smell his breath again. Alcohol.

  From the corner of my eye, Meghan pulls her phone out of her pocket and steps toward the door. She points to her phone and nods. I’m hoping that means she’s calling for backup.

  “Sam.”

  “What. The. Fuck. Are you doing in my office?

  I just need to be honest with him. I’ll do it with a soft, calm voice. “I’m the interim.”

  “Interim?” he snaps. “Interim what? Bitch?”

  “That’s uncalled for.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m the interim department head. Until you get back.”

  “I don’t need a fucking interim. I’m back.”

  “Maybe you should talk to Graham about that.”

  The sound that comes out of the man is startling. When he raises his hand and rolls it into a fist, I take two giant steps back and attempt to get behind his desk before he does something foolish. “Sam—”

  “Get the fuck out!” he screams at the top of his lungs. “I knew you were fucking trouble. I knew it.” He spits. Really spits. Some of it lands on top of his shiny desk.

  “Calm down,” I say loudly because he’s not listening.

  “Excuse me?” He rounds the desk, making me move backward again. When the back of my legs hit the chair, I fall into it, causing it to roll, then suddenly flip backward. Now I’m stuck with my feet in the air and an angry man standing above me like he’d stab me if he only had a knife.

  “Get up,” he shouts again.

  The thing is, I can’t move. I’m trapped in this chair, essentially upside down. There’s no room to move the chair to its side so I can crawl out because it’s caught between the desk and the wall. I’d need help to get out of this, and it doesn’t appear that Sam’s going to offer his assistance.

  I look up at him and realize he’s definitely not going to help. He’s moved in close and is leaning over me. I’m getting scared. More so every minute. I can see his hand rising again. Is he going to hurt me?

  “Sam? What’re you doing?”

  “You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?”

  I shake my head because he’s right, I couldn’t. It was my job.

  “Little did I know you were gunning for my job the whole time. Bitch,” he spits.

  “No. That’s false.”

  “Shut up!” he practically screams, and when he does, his hand rises higher. It’s a fist again.

  “Sam.” I can’t think of anything else to say. The guy’s unreasonable.

  He leans closer just as the muscles in his right arm go rigid.

  This is it. He’s going to swing at me, and I can’t do a damn thing about it. Well, I can protect myself. I draw my arms over my face and hold my breath, waiting for impact.

  “What the fuck?”

  I can’t see who’s speaking, but it’s a man’s voice. I move my arms slightly to see who’s just stepped into the room. When the person attached to the voice appears next to me, I see Brendan Lang. “Alison? Are you okay?”

  “No.” I’ve started crying, my own voice sounding weak.

  I watch as he turns to Sam. “Sam? What’re you doing? You hit her?

  “What?” He scoffs. “No.” His arm drops suddenly as he glares at me. “She wouldn’t get the fuck out of my office.”

  “Sam—”

  Brendan doesn’t get to finish because pounding footsteps come rushing in. Meghan rushes to my side and quickly lowers herself to the floor beside my head. “What happened? Did he hurt you?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  “You okay, Alison?” I follow the sound and see a dark head of hair appear above me.

  “Lucky?”

  Meghan leans closer. “I called security, then ran up and got Graham, er, Mr. Morgan.”

  “Sam!” Graham’s voice is booming. “What the fuck?”

  “Graham.” Sam’s voice has suddenly gotten jovial. Yeah, that’s what I said. Jovial. “Long time, no see.”

  Graham
’s not falling for it. “You strike her?”

  “No.” Sam sneers. “Of course not. She was in my office.”

  “You’re on paid leave. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

  “I work here.”

  “Not anymore,” Meghan says quietly, only for my ears.

  “In my office. Now.” He looks at Lucky and another hunky security guy. “Lucky and Cam, you too.”

  I guess the guy’s name is Cam.

  I’m still awkwardly trapped in the chair. I just need for these guys to go so I can figure out a way up and out.

  “Now, Sam,” Graham practically shouts.

  “Fine.”

  I watch him leave, but he gives me one last angry glare.

  “Cam, go. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Sure, Lucky.”

  As soon as Brendan and the other three leave, Lucky steps around the desk and holds his hand out to me. “Babe, hang on to the chair so it doesn’t roll out from under her.”

  Meghan grumbles. I hear her muttering the word “babe,” but she does as he asks. In no time, the chair is up and I’m sitting upright. Not going to lie, I’m a bit dizzy. But at least I’m off the ground and I don’t have any teeth missing, nor do I have a black eye.

  “That was scary,” I say. “I thought he was going to punch my lights out.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him,” Lucky mutters.

  “He’s kind of a mess these days,” adds Meghan.

  Pushing out of the chair, I give myself a second. “Thanks, Lucky.” I turn to Meghan and pull her into a hug. “Thanks, Meg.”

  “I’m sorry it took so long. Mr. Morgan wasn’t picking up, so I ran up there.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “He smelled like booze,” she adds. “Sam, not Mr. Morgan.”

  I knew who she meant. “That reminds me.” Going over to the closet, I open the door and see the box Hal mentioned. “Lucky, will you take this box up to Graham’s office?”

  “Is this Sam’s?” He looks shocked.

  “The cleaning crew found them in here today. I think Sam may need help, and hopefully Graham will see to that.”

  Meghan’s face is full of shock. “Wow. You’re too nice.”

  “If the man has a drinking problem, it could make him behave, uh, differently.”

  “It’s true,” Lucky says, bending down to grab the box. “I’ll take these up there.” Looking over at Meghan, he smiles. “See you tonight?” Why does he sound so unsure?

  “We’ll see.”

  Ah, that’s why.

  With the bottles clanking together, Lucky walks out the door with both of us staring at him as he goes.

  “Wow.” It’s all I think to say. That man is fine.

  “Yep,” Meg says with a smirk. “He’s hot.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Ben

  Two weeks off is going to kill me. I’ve only been out of the office for a day and already I’m bored out of my skull. Correction: I was able to go to Sky’s first physical therapy appointment, so that’s good. Thanks to my time off, I won’t have to board her at the place, and they said they’d let me participate in her therapy so I can continue working with her at home. It’s amazing what they did in just one visit. I can see a difference already. She was able to walk for several minutes with their help. They still don’t want her to do much, but now when we go outside, she can walk on her own. I’ll continue to carry her in and out of the building and attempt to keep her from walking around the apartment too much. Jumping on and off the sofa and chair is still forbidden, so I’ve got to keep an eye on her at all times.

  Going to her PT appointment was the highlight of my day. If I didn’t think I’d need four more years of schooling, I’d see if they’d hire me to do that full time. I watched them work with other animals too, one who lost a limb due to a car accident, one that’s blind, and another one that was so abused, all it did was shake. Whoever did that to the poor animal is a fucking asshole. I hope they had to pay. There’s no excuse for that. None. Hopefully therapy can help that sweet guy.

  Alas, changing careers at this point is just not possible. I may have to think of something, though, because I haven’t heard a word from MFH. Sure, it’s only been a day, but you’d think someone would tell me what’s going on. I haven’t seen Alison around the neighborhood either, and believe me, I’ve looked. I swore I saw her at the coffee shop this morning, but it was someone else. Once they turned around, I saw they couldn’t hold a candle to Alison Kirby.

  I’m going a little crazy not knowing what’s going on there. I’ve even contemplated taking up a hobby. I know knitting is out because when it comes to crafts, I’m all thumbs. Just ask my mom. Now she’s creative. When I was younger, I tried to help her out from time to time with her projects, but I’m useless. Which reminds me, I need to call her. Later.

  With a sigh, I look around my tiny place. If I owned my apartment, I’d consider repainting, but since I don’t and I’m not allowed to make changes, that’s also out. So, I’ve decided to start running—in earnest. Sure, I ran that one morning after Sky’s accident, but nothing after. That is until this leave business.

  I woke up early this morning, took Sky out first, and then I was off. I was pretty proud of myself because I ran two miles without stopping. I guess I wasn’t in as terrible shape as I thought. I’ve still got a long way to go, of course. Maybe I’ll work up to doing a half marathon or something. That’s a good goal, right?

  Sitting on the sofa, I reach down and pick up Sky. Placing her next to me, I lay my head back and sigh. “I wish I knew what was going on, girl.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Alison

  “You fired him?” I’m sitting in Graham’s office again. It seems to be a common occurrence and one I hope changes soon.

  Graham shakes his head. “He resigned after I offered to send him to rehab, company paid, but he refused. Adamantly. I gave him the choice.”

  “Wow.” That was dumb. “I can’t believe he’d resign over getting help.” Who does that?

  “He kept blaming you.” Graham hesitates. “And Ben.”

  I can see why he thinks I’m to blame but… “Ben?” I say, surprised. “What did Ben do?”

  With a shrug, he stands up from behind his desk. “No idea.”

  I think he’s trying to tell me this meeting is over, except I’ve got a few more questions. “What now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I assume you’ll post Sam’s job.”

  “We will. Eventually.” Stepping around his desk, he stops a foot away from me. “I was hoping you’d hang around for a bit longer.”

  What about Ben and me?

  “I’ve never managed an entire department before.” Even though he announced to all of them that I had the experience.

  “You’ll be fine.”

  Fine? Does he really think so, or does he just want Marketing off his plate for a while? “I’ll do this for a little while, but you need to bring Ben back.”

  “I’m giving him a week to stew. It’ll be good for him.”

  I guess I’ll have to take that. “I see you moved Lindsay into Clive’s old office.” The big one.

  “Got her a fridge of her own too.” He smirks. “I never want to hear about stolen lunches again.”

  “Good idea.” I chuckle. “And you moved Ben to her old office?”

  “Her office is larger. I figured he’d be better off in the bigger space. And I’m thinking the two shouldn’t be neighbors right now.”

  I nod. “I agree.” Plus her office has a window. “Are you going to get him another assistant?”

  “I assumed HR had already taken care of that.”

  “No. Sam told him it wasn’t approved.”

  “Bullshit,” Graham spits. “What the hell was Sam’s problem?”

  I shake my head. “No idea.” Actually, I do have some idea since Ben shared his ridiculous theory with me that Sam thought Ben used his looks to
get ahead, but I decide to keep that to myself for now.

  Standing, I shake Graham’s hand and leave his office. I’ve got a lot to do before I can sit down with the managers. Going through Sam’s papers and computer files is the first thing on my list. I hope Meghan will be able to stay late for a few nights. I’ll need as much help as I can get.

  My head hurts. The last three days have been nothing but sorting through papers and the crap Sam had strewn across his office. They let him box up his personal belongings the day of the chair incident. The one we shall not mention. I was sure to leave the room while he did what he needed to do. Lucky was the one charged with supervising his exit. Now everything that remains is things that relate to the company.

  Honestly, I don’t get it. Why did he keep this stuff? Most of it makes no sense. His notations, in general, are illegible. On top of that, many of the papers are stained. Meghan and I decided early on if we couldn’t read it, it went into a box to be dealt with later—or never. We’ve got two full boxes and a third in the works.

  The items we can read aren’t much better. He’s added so much personal opinion stuff about the staff and managers on the edges of some of his agendas and other papers that I’m embarrassed for him. The things he wrote about people like Silvia and Ben make me cringe. Example: a note about Silvia mentions her clothing at a staff meeting from two months ago. He wrote, “What is she wearing? That shirt looks terrible on her. What color is that? Sunflower? And her pants are way too tight. She needs to stop eating donuts. She’s on her third one today.”

  Talk about inappropriate.

  As for Ben, the kinds of things he jotted down related to his personality and his work ethic. He called him “lazy and entitled” on one paper. On another he drew an arrow from Ben’s name to the words “stupid and inadequate.” Who does that? Especially about someone like Ben. He’s none of those things.