by Kayt Miller
No wonder Sam didn’t want me in his office. I wouldn’t want anybody to see this shit either.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ben
When I opened my mailbox on Saturday morning and saw the MFH logo on the return address, my stomach dropped. “This is it,” I say to Sky, who’s standing next to me. She’s walking some now, not a lot but enough that I feel okay about leaving her home alone now and then.
“I’m just going to get this over with. Either they’re letting me back in or I’m fired.” Sucking in a lungful of air, I tear open the letter and read. With a sigh, I smile down at Sky. “Good news, girl. It says they’ve concluded the investigation and I’m to report to work on Monday.”
I’m relieved, although a little part of me has enjoyed the time with Sky and her physical therapists. According to them, she’ll only need one more week of therapy. And now, since I’ve got to work, they’ll need to keep her there while I’m at MFH. I checked to make sure they still had room for her, just in case, and they do.
Bending down, I pick her up and kiss her nose. “This calls for a celebration. Mike’s Pizza for me and a hamburger patty for you.” I wish Alison could join us. Maybe I’ll call her since I can go back to work.
Me: I just got good news. I return to work on Monday.
Alison: I know. Congrats.
Me: Want to celebrate with me over a slice of Mike’s Pizza?
Sure, I know I should be taking her out for something fancy, but I’m being cautious. Playing the long game, as they say.
Alison: Sure. We need to talk.
That doesn’t sound good.
Me: Meet you there at 6?
Alison: Perfect. See you then.
And with that, I pick up Sky and run up the steps to my apartment. I’ve got just enough time to shower and change before I need to leave.
When I first saw Alison walking toward me on the street, I had to catch my breath. She looked absolutely stunning in a pair of jeans and a long sweater. Perfect for New York’s cooler late-September temperatures. The dark green sweater looked amazing set against her dark hair. Hell, what am I going on about? She’d look great in any color. She’s a sight for sore eyes, for sure. It feels like it’s been longer than a week since she was at my place.
Now we’ve each got a slice of Mike’s delicious pizza along with a soda and found a quiet spot on a park bench in which to eat. After updating her on Sky’s progress, she got quiet.
“What?” I ask. She did say she wanted to talk. I think this is the moment.
“Have you spoken to anyone at work?”
I shake my head. I couldn’t. It explicitly said so in the letter, and I wasn’t about to jeopardize my job to get intel. “No. Why?”
Setting her cup on the ground next to her feet, she turns her body until she’s almost facing me. “Sam’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“He resigned.”
I jerk my head back in surprise. “Resigned? Why?” Other than the fact that he hated my guts for some reason, I thought he did a decent job.
“There was, um, an incident.”
What the hell is she talking about?
“He was on paid leave as well, but he didn’t heed the warning. He came in and found me in his office.”
Weird. “Why were you in his office?”
She’s hesitating, so I wait patiently for her to explain. “Because Graham made me interim department head.”
“He did?” My voice breaks. “Wow.” I need to be careful here. If I say the wrong thing, this could all blow up in my face. I don’t know anything about Alison’s work history. Has she been a department head before? No matter, I’m sure she’s doing an amazing job. “That’s great!” I quickly add. “How’s it going so far?”
She rolls her eyes. “I spent the first four days sorting through Sam’s papers.”
“Oh.” I nod. “His office was a mess.” I’d only been inside what he called his “foxhole” once, and it certainly smelled like a fox lived there. Several, in fact.
“To say the least. Anyway.” She runs her fingers through her hair and leans closer. “He got very angry….”
I can tell something happened. He did something, I know it. Now I’m getting angry. I reach out and touch her hand, and with a calm I didn’t know I had, I ask, “Did he hurt you?”
Shaking her head, she tells me about the incident in the office, the liquor bottles, a security guy named Lucky, and Sam’s decision to resign rather than get the help he obviously needs.
“That was your first day on the job?” Jesus, the poor woman.
“It was. Meghan and I spent the rest of the day plus three others attempting to figure out his organizational system.”
“And did you?”
Laughing, she shakes her head again. “We decided to call his system the unsystem.”
I’m not sure when it happened, but Alison’s hand has found its way into mine. As we hold hands, we laugh, and it feels amazing. “So, does this mean we’ve got to hold off on us until after they hire someone to replace Sam?”
“Yeah.” She sounds remorseful. “We do.”
I nod and smile. Not a big one but enough for her to see I’m still in this. “How has everyone else been treating you?” I’m thinking mostly of Brendan. He can be an ass.
“I received quite a few glares after Graham announced my new role. Then Sam’s meltdown happened, and it helped, I think. Brendan has been nothing but professional with me, as have the rest of the management.” Squeezing my hand, she pulls hers out of mine, and I miss it. God, when did I become such a damn sap? “Some offices have moved around. You’re now in Lindsay’s old office.”
I smile. “Nice. She’s got a window.”
“I know,” she says, smiling right back. “She moved into the big office after Clive moved up.”
“He was promoted? Again?”
“Sort of. He’s now an executive assistant. I hear he’s doing a great job.”
“He was a good assistant. He’s smart. I’m happy for him.” I really am.
Alison shivers. “It’s getting chilly.”
“Here.” Unzipping my hoodie, I slip it off and place it over her shoulders.
“Thanks.”
We walk side by side back the way we came. The urge to reach out and take her hand is overwhelming, but I need to wait. I can wait. For her, I will wait.
As we walk, she tells me more about the current projects at work and that I’ll be able to pick up where I left off, which is good news. I’ll be able to hit the ground running on Monday.
“Look out!” someone shouts from somewhere to my right. I look that way, but before I can figure out what’s happening, I feel myself being pushed hard to the left. So hard, in fact, that my body lurches to the side, and then just as quickly, I’m being forced back and then down. The loudest crash I’ve ever heard blasts through my brain while a body falls on top of mine, which causes me to lose my breath.
It takes me a minute or two to figure out what just happened. I mean, the whole incident couldn’t have lasted more than thirty seconds, but still. I blink a few times until the body on top of mine comes into focus. “Alison?”
“You okay?” she asks, panting.
“I think so.” I’m pretty sure I hit my head on the sidewalk but not hard enough to mention. I wrap my arms around her to keep her close. “What happened?”
Rolling off me, she pushes herself up to sitting. I do the same. When she points to a car that seems to be the cause of the sounds I just heard, she says, “We were almost roadkill.”
I do my best to focus on the car. It’s literally wrapped around a light pole. It’s got to be totaled. Thankfully, the pole is still standing. Smoke is billowing out from beneath the car’s hood, and the windshield looks like an elaborate spiderweb of cracks and breaks.
When the door of the vehicle starts to open and a person emerges, I hear an audible gasp from Alison.
“That son of a bitch.”
Jump
ing up, I lurch to my right, doing my best to stay upright. Still dizzy from my fall, I stomp, weaving a little bit, over to the man who just tried to kill us. “You fucking asshole!” I shout as I raise my arm to take a swing at him, but he beats me to the punch—literally. Who knew Sam had such a great right hook?
I’m down like a lead weight, hitting my head good and hard this time.
It’s the last thing I remember.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Ben
“Ben?” I feel my body being jostled about, and I don’t like it. “Ben?” It happens again, and it’s starting to piss me off. I need to sleep. I’m so damn tired.
“Ben!” the person shouts, this time close to my ear.
“What?” I shout right back. Or I think I shout. Who knows? I’m so tired.
“Wake up.”
“No. I don’t want to.” I can hear my own voice, reminding myself of a petulant child.
“Yes.” I hear a laugh and it sounds pretty. “You need to wake up. You can only sleep a little while. You’ve got a concussion.”
“Concussion?” When did that happen?
“Yes. You have a concussion. Sit up a little bit so I can put these pillows behind your back. It’s time for some medicine too.”
I have no idea what’s happening, but the minute I open my eyes, I see an angel. “Am I dead?”
“No!” she says, sounding affronted. “You’re very much alive. You’ve got a concussion and a sprained wrist. You’ll be fine in a few days.”
My wrist. Lifting my hand, I attempt to move it around and wince. Alison’s sitting next to me on my bed, and even though she’s smiling, I can also see worry there. I close my eyes, trying to remember. Then it hits me.
“Sam tried to run us over.”
“He did.”
My eyes move left, then up, then right. “He punched me.”
“He did. You tried to get a shot in, but he beat you to it.”
“Ha ha.” Beat me to it. Not funny.
“They took me by ambulance?” I remember that now.
“You were treated and released.”
“What happened to Sam?”
“Arrested. Drunk driving.”
“What about attempted murder?”
“We’ll have to see what happens. I told the police everything.”
I look around my bedroom nook, then at her. “Sky?”
“She’s right here.” Alison moves to stand. I watch her bend over and pick up my dog. She sets her on my lap, and I pet the top of Sky’s head, talking sweetly to her.
Like a light bulb has gone off in my brain, I suddenly remember what happened before the knockout punch. “You saved my life.”
Alison blushes.
“You did. You pushed me out of the way.” I laugh but it’s not funny. “You threw yourself on top of me. You saved my life.” And risked her own.
“I did what anyone would have done.”
“No.” I shake my head. “That’s not true.” We all want to think that everyone would suddenly become a hero in an emergency, but it’s just not the case. “You’re a superhero.”
That gets her. She throws her head back and laughs. “Not in the least.”
“Yeah you are. You’re a superhero.” I lean forward until my face is an inch from hers. “You’re my superhero, Ms. Kirby.”
“And you’re mine, Mr. Schilling.”
Something electric runs through me. It starts in my chest and radiates outward until my fingers and toes are tingling. “I love you, Alison.”
Her eyes are suddenly huge. “You do?”
“I do. I’m pretty sure it was love at first sight.”
“Was that before or after I elbowed you in the face?” She giggles.
“I thought you were stunning before. But after you blackened my eye, I thought I’d met my soul mate.”
I watch her body soften in front of me. A sweet smile slides across her face. “I’m not sure I’m at that point yet, Ben, but I feel strongly about you. I could see myself falling in love with you, but you’ll need to be patient with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.”
When our lips touch, I know it’s probably wrong. We should wait. But at this point, who the hell cares? The kiss isn’t long, but it lingers. I want to hang on to the feeling forever.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Alison
It’s my last day at Morgan Financial Holdings. Graham offered me the job permanently, but I declined. I did what I came to do. I’ve spent three months righting the ship that Sam sailed off-course. Sorry for all of the boating analogies, but it fits. This department is just like the crew of a ship. One that was about to stage a mutiny. I couldn’t see it at first, but it took me only a few weeks to discover the degree of mismanagement by Sam and the people it was impacting. I thought Lindsay was the only person who was unhappy, but it turns out that almost everyone was disgusted with his decisions and behavior.
My instincts were right about the elevator too. I found a memo from security that notified all department heads about the malfunctioning microphone in that one elevator. He knew which one he could take to say whatever the hell he wanted to, and he didn’t just do that to me. A number of support staff along with Silvia mentioned he’d said some really inappropriate things to them while on that elevator. They also knew he’d been drinking at the time. No doubt the odor was hard to miss.
Speaking of Sam, the last we heard, he’s in court-ordered rehab. Apparently he’d been pulled over for drunk driving several other times previously, and it was either rehab or jail time. I sort of hoped he’d get both. He did try to hit us, after all, but that was impossible to prove.
It’s okay. We know.
We.
We’re a we now. As of tonight, that is. Since I’m an independent consultant again, Ben and I are an official couple. No, we didn’t announce it at my going-away party, but I’m pretty sure everyone suspected as much.
He’s held up his side of the bargain. He hasn’t tried to kiss me or even touch me in over three long months. While I appreciate it, there were times, like the evenings we’d hang out at his place and watch a movie or a ball game, that I just wanted him to try something. Anything.
Well, that ends now. Tonight, Ben Schilling is mine. And I mean that in more ways than one.
When the knock sounds on my door, I push my shoulders back and breathe deep. Peeking at myself in the full-length mirror I’ve got on my closet door, I smile. “He’s not gonna know what hit him.”
A second round of knocks has me walking to my front door quickly. Standing up as straight as I can, I turn the knob and pull the door open to reveal Ben, looking wonderful in a navy wool peacoat and jeans. In his hands is the largest bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen. Not just roses, although I spy some of those. No, this bouquet is filled with things like lilies, tulips, and some others I can’t name. They’re all equally as vibrant and look like they were picked from an English garden.
Thinking he’s going to hand me the flowers, I giggle when I see he’s sort of frozen in his spot. I’m glad. I planned this to get a reaction out of him, and it seems to be working.
“What are you wearing?”
“Oh, this old thing?” I always loved it when women said things like that in old movies. I slide my palms down the silky gown. You see, I’m wearing the prettiest, sexiest nightie I could find. And believe me, I searched an entire day for the perfect one. This one is a deep teal blue, and I chose it because it almost matches his eyes. That and it’s so buttery soft, I knew he’d love the feel of it. A giggle erupts from me again as I watch the bundle of flowers fall to the ground.
The door slams shut, and Ben has me lifted in his arms a second later. “Bedroom,” he growls. I point to my right and laugh all the way.
Ben sets me on the bed, and I watch as he tears off his peacoat, then his dress shirt. Once he unbuckles his belt, he’s out of his jeans in no time, leaving him in a white undershirt and
gray boxer briefs. This is the first time I’ve seen him without pants on—even after his concussion, he always had on sleep pants or sweats—so this is a treat because, ladies and gents, Ben Schilling is smokin’ hot. And hard. Really hard.
My breath is getting a little labored watching the striptease. When he reaches back behind his head, I hold my breath as he pulls off the undershirt, revealing his hard stomach. It’s not one of those super-duper bumpy ones, but it’s hard and flat. There’s a line of hair that leads from his navel down into his briefs. The urge to lick it is overwhelming. Hell, I want to lick everything of Ben’s.
I watch Ben’s fingers slide into the waistband of his underwear. I wait and wait. My heart’s beating so hard in my chest it feels like it wants to jump out. When he doesn’t make a move, I practically whine. His chuckle breaks my trance. “You ever going to look at me?”
“I am looking at you.” Wait. My head jerks up until our eyes meet. “Oh, sorry.”
With a hardy laugh, Ben strips off his boxers and I nearly choke. “Wow.” And I mean that. Wow. Wow-wow-wow. Ben Schilling is the total package. He’s hard and long and girthy. Is that a word? Girthy?
It is now.
Not only that, it’s getting closer. Ben’s approach is almost catlike. Primal. Like he’s a predator and I’m the prey. Well, I can assure you, it’s the other way around. Remember the nightie?
“You’re so fucking sexy, honey,” he says in a husky, sexy voice.
“So are you, baby.” Yep, I said “baby,” and I’m not sorry.
It must be effective because he’s moved quickly to the bed. Sliding in next to me, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a kiss so hot it singes my soul. A kiss that’s been three months in the making. I push him to his back and slide my leg over his hip. I need to feel that length against me. I want it inside. Now.
His hands slide up my leg, making quick work of the removal of my nightgown. I help him where I can because I want his hands on my skin. I want him everywhere.