Aubrey nodded and held on the top of the copier when he raised it, so he could kneel below and work beneath. It felt odd not speaking, so she came up with a question. “How did you get involved in the XEROX arts?”
Fix-It Guy laughed. “It’s just a stepping-stone,” he replied, still focused on the interior of the machine. “Just a job while I finish my master’s.”
“What are you studying?”
“Astrophysics,” he replied without hesitation.
“Really?” She knew her voiced sounded surprised. Hot Fix-It Guy was a physicist?
“No,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Finance. I’m a numbers guy.”
Aubrey arched her brows, impressed. Here was a man after her own number-crunching heart, albeit her number-crunching was on a much smaller scale.
“How about you?” he asked as he pulled shreds of paper from the guts of the machine. “How did you get involved in the secretarial arts?”
Aubrey had no fancy answer to this. It was simple; it was a job and it paid. She was, however, not a secretary. “Administrative Assistant,” she clarified with a hint of arrogance.
“Sorry.” He grinned up at her. “The Admin arts, then?”
She shrugged. “It pays the rent.”
He nodded in understanding.
Working diligently, he pulled out various parts of the machine, cleaned them off, and replaced them. “Are your arms getting tired?” he asked.
They were, but Aubrey wasn’t going to admit it. “Not all of us need arms like yours to hold the lid of a copier,” she scoffed.
He looked at her and lifted a brow. “So you’ve noticed?”
Shit. She felt a blush creep over her cheeks and pretended to look out the window.
Studly completed his work and stood, shutting the copier door and motioning for Aubrey to set down the top. She tried to do so gently, but the plastic had indented her fingers and she’d lost feeling in them. The top slammed down and caught her pinky in the process.
“Fu . . . dge!” she managed to gasp out instead of a curse word. She clutched her damaged finger in her opposite hand and tried not to jump around.
“Are you okay?” Hot Fix-It Guy asked. “Let me see your hand.”
Aubrey shook her head. “It’s fine. The throbbing will stop in a second.” Again, she had thoroughly embarrassed herself. What an excellent first impression she was making!
“Just let me see it,” he said, reaching for her. He caught her wrist and his warm touch made her freeze. She allowed him to lift her hand to eye level. “That’s going to bruise,” he said as he examined her finger. “At least you’re not bleeding. Can you move it?”
Aubrey bent her finger and grimaced. “Yeah.”
He peered around her hand and smiled at her. “Good. I’m sorry you were wounded helping me.” He quickly brought her finger to his lips and kissed it. “There. All better.”
Aubrey’s heart stopped. Is it possible for a woman’s ovaries to explode?
He.Did.Not.Just.Do.That.
She stared at him dumbfounded as he lowered her hand. He reached for the back pocket of his pants, seemingly unaffected that he kissed a random woman’s finger. He frowned. “I was in such a hurry to get up here I left my phone in the truck. Do you have one I can use? I need to call the office and report that I’m finished.”
Aubrey blinked and nodded. “You can use the one on my desk.”
He shook his head. “It’d be easier with a cell. I have to read off these model numbers.” He pointed to the copier and then the shredder.
You can use whatever you want, Aubrey thought. “I’ll get mine.”
Aubrey retrieved her personal cell and brought it back to him. He quickly dialed his office and she left him alone to do his job. Back at her desk, she debated on the best way to get his name and number without coming off as weird or desperate. She couldn’t just let him walk out the door.
He emerged minutes later with his case packed. “Thanks.” He smiled and held out her phone. “We’re all set.”
She tentatively took it from him. Now would be the time to say something, but her tongue was inconveniently glued to the top of her mouth.
“Be careful and don’t break anything else,” he chided her.
She frowned. “It wasn’t me.”
He laughed and started to walk away.
“Wait.” She reached out to stop him. “Um . . . ” she stuttered. Spit it out, woman!
“Yes?”
“Will your company be emailing the bill? Do you need my card?” Lame! Aubrey’s mind shouted.
Studly shook his head. “Nope, it’s covered under service contract. There’s no charge.”
“Oh.”
He grinned at her again and made his way to the door. “Have a nice night,” he said as he left. “Take care of that finger.”
The door shut behind him and Aubrey’s shoulders sagged. She stared at her desk, dejected. “Do you need my card?” she mimicked her own voice and rolled her eyes. She was completely done with this day.
She emailed her boss that she was leaving, shut off her computer, and nursed her pinky as she grabbed her purse. Picking her phone up off the desk, she headed to the door. She flipped off the light switches, exited the office, and locked the doors behind her. Friday was officially one for the record books.
Aubrey stared at her phone as she walked to her car, wondering if her father could lift Hot Fix-It Guys prints off the case. After all, her dad did work for the sheriff’s department, and she only wanted to know the repair guy’s name. Okay, she wanted to know more than his name, but a name was a start. That way, when things broke down again, she could be specific in her request for assistance.
Her phone vibrated in her hand and she jumped. XEROX appeared on the screen above a number she’d never seen. Why in the hell was XEROX calling her personal cell? Did they need to speak to Fix-It Guy again?
“Hello?” she answered, confused.
“I can’t believe you let me leave without asking my name.”
Her eyes grew wide. He searched her cell for her number? “I don’t recall you asking me my name, either.”
“I already know it.”
“How?”
“It’s on your desk, Aubrey. Why do you have two name plates, anyway?”
Her heart pounded in response to the way her name sounded on his tongue. “One was a gift,” she whispered.
“So?” he asked.
“So what?”
“Are you going to ask me my name or should I stay XEROX in your contact list?”
She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t contain her smile. “What’s your name?”
He laughed. “Why, I never thought you’d ask.” He paused. “My name is Dane. Dane Walker.”
Note from the author:
Thank you for reading!
Office Space is a birthday gift I wrote for one of my close friends. She stuck by me and beta read my ramblings while I fumbled my way through self-publishing in 2013.
Office Space includes many of her favorite things, including Dane.
Bree—Thanks for letting me publish your gift.
If you would like to read more about Dane Walker, you can meet him again in my Guardian Trilogy. The trilogy is a paranormal romance, a ghost story with a love triangle, available exclusively on Amazon.
Visit my page at: http://amzn.to/17gIq2X
LIBERATION
Freedom is intoxicating.
A story from “The Barter System” world.
Shayne McClendon
DEDICATION
To my readers, because they keep me going when I get tired.
For those of you who especially connect to “The Barter System” world, I’m glad I’m not alone. You keep reading and I’ll keep writing. We’re a match made in heaven.
Love,
Shayne
PROLOGUE
September 2014
When Marcy Canfield caught her mother riding the naked body of the man who’d professed t
o love her just hours before, she didn’t feel rage.
The first thing that filtered into her mind as she stood before the master bedroom of her childhood home was their girls’ day the week before that her mother had insisted upon. They’d gone shopping, to the spa, and stared awkwardly at each other over the table featuring an extravagant lunch.
Everything about her relationship with her mother was bullshit.
Upon realizing Marcy stood in the doorway, Victoria Canfield calmly lifted her body from the rapidly depleting cock of her daughter’s lover and pulled on the silk robe at the end of her bed. She was in no hurry and wasn’t remotely ashamed of the circumstances.
“Darling. I wasn’t expecting you.” Raking her fingers through her blonde hair, she gave a slow stretch and a smug smile. “Wait downstairs and I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
While her mother appeared as nonchalant as she always did, the man who’d been living a double life—likely for months—stared at her with fear written on his face. Stefan Perkins quickly covered his naked body with the sheet and there was no doubt in her mind that he held his breath.
His eyes darted between mother and daughter in clear rising panic. Their eyes met and she saw him realize the consequences of the choice he’d made. The first man Marcy had allowed herself to consider loving opened his mouth to speak and she gave a small shake of her head.
It was too late for words.
Victoria would eat him alive. To her, he was nothing more than a series of body parts that were expected to satisfy her. The first time he didn’t do what was expected, she’d cast him aside and move on to the next.
She was the coldest person Marcy had ever known.
Inhaling carefully, she allowed all the possibilities she’d had about Stefan to evaporate. By the time she exhaled, he’d been added to the short list of men who had come before him.
Turning without speaking one word to either of them, Marcy walked through the brownstone to the front door. Opening it, she stepped into sunlight that felt real for the first time in a long time.
Adam held the rear door of her car and she slipped inside with relief. Only when they were driving away from her sociopathic mother could she confront the bruised heart beating in her chest.
She hadn’t loved Stephen but she was hurt by his betrayal. Bile rose in her throat at the knowledge that she’d been sharing a man sexually with her mother.
Less than six minutes had passed between stepping into the house to the moment the car door closed behind her. The instant she’d stood in the quiet foyer, listening to the sounds coming from her mother’s bedroom at the top of the stairs, she’d known what she would find.
There had to be no doubt.
Ascending quietly, she watched them for more than a minute before crossing into the luxurious space where her mother spent the majority of her time. She forced herself to see them, to hear them, so she could make no excuses to herself later.
The time had come to remove such behavior from her life.
The latest betrayal in a long line of many was a testament to the life she’d led since the day her mother took her jaw between her thumb and fingers, carefully inspecting her face from inches away.
“Why . . . you actually turned out rather pretty.” Unwilling to engage, Marcy had remained silent. “Hmm. I’ll have to up my game or you’ll think you have a hope of competing with me.”
At the time, she was sixteen and already familiar with Victoria’s greed and stunning instability. In the beginning, she tried to keep males she was interested in away from her home but the elder Canfield was not above having her followed.
Ultimately, the boys and young men were no match for the woman who saw them as a pawn to be used against the daughter she viewed as a rival. Marcy was not permitted to be smarter or more attractive, was forbidden to seem more socially appealing, and was never to call her “mother.”
Since the person who’d given birth to her was incapable of emotion, she was glad.
Victoria had no problem with what she considered her daughter’s greatest flaw. “You are too kind. You are a doormat for the world to wipe its feet on. It is a fact that makes it so easy to take from you, Marcy darling. Continue in your stubborn naiveté. It amuses me.”
Rampant infidelity and aggressively inappropriate behavior had done nothing to sever her father from the strange draw Victoria seemed to have on men of all ages while he was still alive. Her conduct had only worsened after his death.
Days before Pritchard Canfield died, he told his only child, “I know she’s insane. I know she’s made your life hell. I’m sorry for all of it. I can’t change the past but know that I put safety measures in place to protect you and your inheritance. I was too weak to get away from her, Marcy. Don’t follow my example. You’re strong, educated, and clever. Use what you know to show the world that you have always been the better woman.”
The further she got from the house that had turned into an emotional vacuum since her father passed away, the easier it became to fill her lungs and settle her thoughts. There would be no peace until she removed the toxic woman from her life with scalpel precision.
It was a task that was long overdue.
CHAPTER ONE
October 2014
Nineteen days after catching her mother and former lover fucking, the woman who had contributed eggs to her creation arrived at Marcy’s building.
Carlo called when Victoria appeared in the lobby. “I’ll handle this however you wish, Miss Canfield.”
“Thank you, Carlo. Send her up. Alert security that she will have to be removed.”
“Immediately, miss.”
Standing in her open door, she watched the blonde step off the elevator as if she owned the place. Her apartment was one of the few things Marcy had purchased with her own money. The moment she turned eighteen, she wanted a home where her mother had never lived. Her father had given his blessing and released her trust fund.
He was the only parent who had ever been allowed inside.
The first words to leave Victoria’s lips were, “You’re being childish.” With a shake of her head, Marcy moved to close the door. In a rare show of emotion, Victoria slammed her hand against it. “You’re being a sore loser, Marcy. It isn’t like you. Why haven’t you answered my calls?”
Lifting her face, she stared into the blue-green eyes that were the only feature she’d inherited from her maternal side. “I haven’t answered them because I have nothing to say to you.”
“Stop this immediately. He’s just a man, darling.”
Marcy blinked. “Yes, like so many others in the world. Yet, you weren’t satisfied until you had the one that belonged to me.” She took a deep breath. “It no longer matters. What do you want, Victoria?”
“Aren’t you going to invite me inside? Where are your manners?” When she said nothing and didn’t step aside, the chic middle-aged woman sighed in annoyance and held out an envelope.
“What’s this?”
“It is clearly a formal invitation.” Their eyes met but Marcy waited, already knowing the words that would follow. “We’re getting married on Saturday.”
“Congratulations. I won’t be there.”
“You’re my daughter. You have to be there. What would people think?”
Leaning against the doorframe, she crossed her arms. “Considering you’re marrying the man I was known to be fucking three weeks ago, I can imagine.”
“Don’t be vulgar.”
“Don’t be a hypocrite.”
The silence drew out between them. Victoria’s eyes stayed on her and Marcy knew she was trying to decide which threat to use to make her cower.
Those days were long gone.
In a soft voice that had terrified her as a child, her mother said, “You will be there, Marcy. If you aren’t, I’ll shut down the shelter. You know how much I hate it and I know it’s your pet project. I have the leverage to have every man, woman, and child back on the streets by tomorrow morning
.”
“You’re no better than a rat who eats its young, Victoria.”
Fury flashed in the other woman’s eyes. “You will be there, Marcy. You will walk into that hotel, sign your name to the guest book, and show the world how happy you are for me.”
“Here’s my counter-offer. If you leave now and never speak to me again, the press won’t hear a whisper about what my life has been like with you as a parent.”
“I’ll take everything you love from you, Marcy. Don’t start a fight you can’t win.”
For several seconds, she stared at her face without blinking. “Victoria, what you fail to realize is that I’ve never attempted to fight you. I’ve allowed you the freedom to be a grasping, greedy thing. Part of me was fascinated by your insanity. The rest of me knew I needed to reach a certain place in my life.” She smiled slowly. “I’ve arrived.”
“Don’t push me, daughter dear.”
Standing upright and tossing the embossed invitation over her shoulder, Marcy stepped into the hall, closer to her mother. Their gazes locked and Victoria’s insanity glowed.
“Grandmother signed over enough of her shares to make me the majority shareholder in the primary corporation, which trickles into the subsidiaries. When I explained your latest game, she was livid. She offered to do it when Dad died but I wasn’t ready.”
Tilting her head, she added, “You work for me, Victoria. Over the last week, I have removed every man . . . and woman . . . you fucked on the board. They didn’t inform you because I have a team of attorneys prepared to keep them in court for the next decade over non-disclosure violations and blatant misconduct. I’ll leave you the cash, the house in the Hamptons, and the investments my father was good enough to gift you despite your despicable behavior during your marriage. The rest is mine. It has always been mine.”
“No one will choose you over me, Marcy.”
She crossed her arms. “Naturally, you’d think that. I finally understand why Dad insisted I intern at Winters Enterprises before giving me my first position. He told me if I could survive there, I’d have the tools to run his company. It was brutal but I learned more in the first three months than all my years at college. Last week, Mr. Winters gave me an hour of his time to review my projections. He agreed to chair the restructured board.”
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