Dating the Boss

by Kate Swain

  “Daddy,” Connor said crossly, “stop chatting to Uncle Carter. I want him to make more popcorn for me.”

  I laughed, and Matthew grinned. He caught my gaze as our animosity evaporated a little in the sound of the child’s laughing.

  “Okay, okay!” I protested. “I’ll make some more for you. You can take it with you,” I added, looking up at Matthew, “as long as you don’t eat it before you’ve finished your dinner. That good?”

  “Hurray!” Connor whooped.

  “Sorry,” I said to Matthew, as he followed me back into the kitchen again. “I don’t want to take up your time if you have to go somewhere.”

  “Just make enough for two,” Matthew said, raising a brow. “I’m hungry too.”

  We looked at each other, and he grinned. Suddenly, as if the anger between us had dissolved, we were laughing again. He was my brother, and I loved him, and he loved me. And he was right about Amelia.

  They walked out the door. “See you,” Matthew called from the step, his son beside him, each of them looking up at me. Connor was happily holding a big bag of popcorn. I’d added lots of salt, the way Matthew liked it. “And don’t forget about Monday.”

  “I won’t,” Matthew called back. I promised him I would do something to work it out. It was going to be hard, but his faith in me was enough to make me think that maybe I could do it. It was certainly something that I should have the courage to attempt.

  I sat down at the table with my head in my hands. His words went around and around in my brain, and I couldn’t quite believe in them. She cares about you, he’d said. Don’t hurt her.

  I shut my eyes, resting my head in my hands. I was lost. I cared about her, too. More than I wanted to admit. More than I had ever cared for anyone, I realized with shocking clarity. It seemed strange to say it, but I hadn’t felt a connection with anyone who was this great. We might not have known each other for very long, but those moments had touched me and shown me just how well we were connected.

  And I had hurt her.

  I had absolutely no idea how to fix it. And the thought that I wasn’t good enough for her returned, in spite of Matthew’s confidence in me. I was sure that, in her heart, she knew that too.

  “She doesn’t want me.”

  At that moment, I heard my phone ring. Jumping to my feet, I reached for it on the table. I answered it, recognizing the number.

  “Tex! Hi! What’s up?”

  “Hi. Listen… it’s about Amelia.”

  “Amelia?” I almost choked with surprise. “What is it? Is she okay?” Thoughts of a worst-case scenario started breaking over my mind in waves. I imagined that Luke had come back, that she had been hurt, attacked…

  “You told me I should keep investigating that guy… Luke Lowry. Well, I found out some stuff. It’s not good.”

  “What is it?” I demanded, heart thumping.

  “Well,” Tex paused, obviously hesitant to tell me what he’d discovered. “I was talking to one of our guys—he’s a policeman. He said that he’s had a guy called Lowry in for drug-related stuff at least once. That confirms what I told you before. On its own, I wouldn’t be worried. It’s just that they suspect him of other stuff too. They just can’t prove anything.”

  “Suspect him of what?” I asked. I felt frightened. If Tex was reluctant to say something, it must be bad.

  “They think he might have killed an entertainer.”

  “What?” I almost fell off my chair. “That can’t be, no.” I felt myself retreating into denial. He couldn’t actually be that dangerous. I didn’t want to believe that! My whole body convulsed, fear filling me from head to toe.

  “They only suspect him,” Tex said gently. “But, well, a young woman went missing last year. She worked as, well, a sex worker. Somebody picked her up, and she disappeared. The police found her body earlier this year.”

  “And it was him?” I felt sick.

  “They think so, yes. But they don’t have enough evidence to charge him.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I felt even more shame for my behavior. Here Amelia was, having her life threatened, and I’d left her alone!

  “Thank you for telling me,” I whispered.

  “Sure. Look, man… it’ll be okay. Just be ready to call Drake at the station if you need help. I’ll carry on asking the guys to keep a regular watch on her place.”

  “Thanks,” I said again. “You’re a big help.”

  “No problem.”

  I hung up. I stood and went to the sink, washing my face in the hopes it would calm me down. I drank some water, and I felt my stomach lurch with horror. What should I do?

  I couldn’t attach myself to her for twenty-four hours a day, but, I thought, racking my brains, maybe there was something I could do to protect her. I had to be able to do something to make sure this guy couldn’t harm her!

  She might not want me as a friend, but I could try to keep her safe.

  That, I thought sadly, was the best I could do. The one way that I might be able to live up to the faith Matthew had in me to fix things. I had to try.

  20

  Amelia

  On Monday morning, I sat at the desk at work, wishing I could just erase everything from the last week from my mind. I had no idea what Carter thought of me, and I wished I didn’t care about it. I had other things on my mind, like Luke and what he was planning to do. He’d left a message on Facebook, and I was too scared to look at it. Along with those worries, the fact that Carter had just walked out after our time together greatly upset me.

  “He probably wishes that never happened.”

  I licked an envelope shut, stuck on a stamp, and put it in the “out” tray. The phone rang, and I answered it.

  “You have a problem with the exhaust emission? What model of bike is it? Year?” I asked out of habit, listening to the answers, and writing them down. I could see through the glass panel in the door that somebody was in the hallway. I thought it might be Carter, and my tummy cramped uncomfortably. I didn’t want to see him or talk to him right now.

  I wish I had never met him.

  I finished with the customer on the phone and returned to the computer screen when somebody knocked on the door. I jumped as Carter came in. My body seemed to respond to his presence without my mind wishing it. I hated him all the more for that. I focused on the email I was typing and waited for him to say something.

  “Um… Amelia. I just wanted to let you know we’re going to be working overtime tomorrow. You can still leave at the normal time, though. Just thought you’d want to know.”

  “Oh. Yes.” I nodded. “Thanks.”

  He didn’t go out of the office but stayed where he was opposite my desk. I paused in my typing and looked up at him, keeping my face coldly neutral. “Anything else?” I asked.

  He grimaced like he had indigestion. “Um… no,” he said, sounding pained. “Nothing. Sorry.”

  He turned around and went out.

  “Well, that’s nice,” I murmured under my breath, reaching for a receipt for the parts that arrived earlier from overseas, and filing it away. No, “I’m so sorry for disturbing you,” or “how are you doing?” or anything like that. What a jerk, I thought.

  I opened the drawer for some staples, slamming it viciously shut. It helped me to work off some of the anger I felt, anger stemming from the pain I felt.

  Damn you, Carter Brand, I said in my brain. If I’m so repulsive to you, why did you even hire me in the first place?

  “He didn’t want to hire me,” I muttered under my breath. I got up to fetch some coffee from the machine in the hallway, slamming the door behind me.

  When I got back, my phone made a beep, and I noticed another message from Luke. My stomach turned over. I felt my body tense as if I’d been physically hit.

  “No,” I said, shoving my phone into my bag again. “No. I’m not dealing with this.”

  I leaned back with my eyes shut and contemplated why I hadn’t called the police in the first p
lace. If I saw him again, I decided I would definitely call them. I could show them the marks on the door where somebody had tried to pick the lock. As far as I was concerned, that was evidence enough.

  I recalled that Carter had—unbeknownst to me—asked the motorcycle club to keep an eye on me. I had no idea how to interpret that, in light of his standoffish attitude.

  “Probably just thinks I’m a nuisance,” I muttered to myself.

  I worked through lunch, eating sandwiches I’d prepared this morning in my apartment. I didn’t want to join the guys. I didn’t want to see Carter any more than I had to. Every time I saw him, the feeling that he didn’t like me just cut even deeper into my heart. I would rather, if he had chosen to forget about it, manage to forget it, too.

  I just can’t help thinking about him and us.

  Being with Carter had been like nothing I’d experienced before. He’d been so…

  The phone rang, breaking into my thoughts. I answered it, jotted down the appointment on the schedule, and then returned to filing the invoices from yesterday. By the time seven o’clock came around, I was tired and drained and ready to leave.

  “Goodnight, Amelia,” Matt called through the door. He was dressed in his leather coat, ready to ride home on his bike.

  “Goodnight, Matt,” I called back wearily. “Have a good dinner.”

  “You, too. And don’t work too hard, eh?” he added. His eyes were kind, and I could read worry there. I felt my heart twist.

  If only Carter had half the compassion his brother had.

  Matt left, and I stood up, pushing back my chair with an abrupt shove. I shouldn’t expect Carter to behave decently. He wasn’t a decent person, and I didn’t need anything from him.

  I walked out into the crisp, cold autumn evening and headed swiftly up the stairs. It was dark outside already, and the wind whispered around the warehouses. The air smelled cold, and the parking lot was deserted. I was on edge, half-expecting Luke to loom up from the darkness, and I cursed him as I hurried to unlock the door as fast as I could. I leaned on the door as I shut it behind me, my heart pounding.

  “Whew,” I murmured.

  I locked the door, then sat down heavily on my bed. I closed my eyes.

  “This is more than I can handle.”

  I had three messages from Luke now. I knew I couldn’t keep on ignoring them. If he was planning something, I had to know what it was. I opened the last one.

  It really pisses me off that after all this time, you won’t even give me a chance. I could make you so happy if you’d just let me, but no. You passed me up for some random fuckboy who doesn’t know you like I do. You really think you’re all that. You’re nothing, and you’re going to regret how you treated me after all I’ve done for you—I know where you live.

  I shuddered. “No,” I whispered, trying to stoke a fire of anger inside myself. “You’ll regret it, you creep.” I made my hands into fists, dropping the phone onto the bed with an angry gesture.

  I bit my lip as a tear rolled down my cheek. I wasn’t angry. I was scared. Very scared.

  “I don’t know what to do about anything.”

  I cried for a bit, but somehow the fact that Luke had managed to make me cry made me angry too. I shouldn’t feel this way because of such a creep. I sat up, cold with anger.

  “I’m making some dinner,” I told myself firmly. “Then I’m calling the police.”

  I went to the kitchen and took some pasta from the top cupboard, my heart still pounding. Every noise—each scrape of a branch on the side of a building, every gust of wind—made me edgy with fear. I heard a click as I stirred the sauce. The motion-sensing lights came on outside, shining white light through my window.

  “Damn,” I whispered.

  The guys had set them up so that they only came on when somebody was on the fifth step from my door. That meant that somebody was out there.

  I put down the wooden spoon I’d been using to stir the sauce. I took a step back, out of the light.

  Call the police, my mind told me briskly. My heart was beating so loudly that I could hear it. I held my breath and eased myself towards the door. If it was Tanya or Matt or Mark, they would knock, surely?

  “Hello?” Carter’s voice called through the wood. I felt my body crumple with relief. I opened the door.

  “Carter!” I said. “What are you doing here?” The relief that it was him cut through the anger I felt towards him.

  “Amelia. I know it’s late. I was just leaving work, and I thought… well… I thought I should check to see if you’re okay.”

  “If I’m okay?” somehow, the fact that he cared struck me as ironic. He had put me through hell with his shameful treatment of me these past few days. He’d barely looked at me! Now, when I was terrified of a stalker coming to my door, he chose the moment to appear? I laughed, even though a tear ran down my cheek.

  “Amelia,” Carter whispered gently, shutting the door behind him and locking it carefully. “What’s the matter?” he sounded shocked.

  “There isn’t anything wrong,” I sniffed. I was crying in earnest.

  “There is something.”

  “No,” I sniffed, wiping my nose. “It’s just… just Luke. He’s… he’s started again. Stalking me. Sending me threatening messages. He knows where I live. It must have been him who tried to get in here the other night. I’m scared, Carter!” I threw the last comment at him like an accusation. What did he think? That I enjoyed being harassed by a dangerous man?

  “Amelia,” Carter said gently. His face was grave. I felt like a fool for crying in front of him. I steeled myself for his patronizing words. He was going to tell me to snap out of it, that it was something minor.

  “What?” I snapped.

  “Amelia, this is bad. This guy is dangerous. I can’t leave you here. I want to ask you to pack a bag and come with me.”

  “Come where?” I asked. Curiosity outweighed my anger temporarily. I looked up at him, wondering what the heck he was up to now.

  “Stay with me,” Carter said gently. “For a few days, at least. It might throw him off the scent. I can’t leave you here alone.”

  “Why not?” I demanded. “Why shouldn’t I just stay?”

  “Amelia,” he said softly. “Please. This guy is not the sort of person one should take risks with. I don’t want you to be here alone. He knows where you live, and I don’t like it. Please. I want you to come with me now.”

  “You do?” I felt anger surge through me, filling the space that relief had just filled and which, earlier, had been filled with my fears. “You have a hell of a funny way of showing it.”

  “Amelia…” he protested. “Don’t be mad at me.”

  “Don’t be mad at you?” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. He had tormented me, confused me, treated me with contempt, right in the middle of me being stalked, and being very threatened. And now, just when I felt like I was getting in control of things again, he turned up and demanded that I rely on him? He had some nerve. “How am I supposed to feel, when you act all weird and indifferent and uncaring, after… after…” I felt myself about to cry and I stopped, the anger draining out of me abruptly.

  I leaned back on the wall, feeling suddenly and utterly exhausted. I looked at him, waiting for the outraged retaliation, the hurt ego, the insults. I held my breath, ready to just shrug them off and then kick him out of my house so I could get some rest.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I stared. I felt as if he’d suddenly spoken a language I didn’t know. “Sorry?”

  He nodded. He, too, looked weary. He took a steadying breath. “Amelia,” he said gently, “I’m sorry. I really am. I know I behaved badly. I should never have… done a lot of things I did. I’m really sorry. I just want to let you know that I want to make sure that, from now on, you’ll be cared for.”

  I looked at him. He looked contrite, standing there in my doorway, a haggard expression on his face, his strong features strangely vulnerable, his broad chest
covered by a thin gray-white tee-shirt. He didn’t look threatening or cruel. He looked sorry.

  All the same, he had confused and upset me too much for me to simply shrug it off. I took a deep breath. “You have a funny way of behaving sometimes, Carter.”

  “I’m sorry… I know I behaved badly. I just want to make sure you’re safe now.”

  I sighed. “Why do you care?”

  I meant it. He had pushed me away from the first day we met. He hadn’t even wanted to hire me, and then, after having spent the night in my bed, he disappeared and became even more standoffish and reserved than ever! I didn’t know what to think.

  “Because,” Carter said gently.

  Before I knew what he was about to do, he had crossed the space between us in two steps. He took me in his arms, and his lips descended on mine. It was a passionate kiss. I felt my lips part without thinking about it.

  His tongue slipped into my mouth, soft and sweet and tender. I felt my body tingle in response, the fire he had set on Friday already kindling into a fresh flare.

  He stopped kissing me and looked down at me, his eyes wide.

  “Sorry,” he murmured as I straightened up awkwardly. I felt drawn to him, but I also felt wary. I didn’t know if either of us should be doing this right now. “I didn’t mean to impose myself on you.”

  “Well,” I murmured, wiping my mouth and trying to stand straight despite the fact that my whole body felt like I wanted to lean on him and cover him with kisses all over. “I don’t know about imposition, but… but maybe we should try to avoid that, um, stuff.” I looked away. I didn’t want to reopen the wounds he’d inflicted already. If he was going to be so weird about closeness, it was better to maintain our physical distance.

  “Maybe,” he responded, coughing as if there was a tickle in his throat. “I think you could be right. For the moment, at least.”

  “Yeah.”

  He looked so solemn that I had to laugh, to lighten things a little. “Well, whatever we do,” I said softly, “I think maybe I should make us some coffee or something. We’re both too awake right now for anything else.”