Vibrizzio (The Big V #1)

by Nicki Elson

  * * *

  She was put in a room with Hayden sooner than expected when Beecher called them both into his office the next morning.

  “Just got off the phone with Randall Shepherd,” Beecher said. “You know he’s been a proponent of adding L.T. Bell’s company to DH’s wildcard stable, and you also know he’s not been able to make enough progress with her to satisfy the board. Well, he called with a top-priority request.”

  Hayden sat forward and Lyssa leaned back.

  “It appears Miss Bell is willing to expose more about her process, but only to you two.”

  “Us?” Lyssa said.

  “Why us?” Hayden asked. “Did she give any reason?”

  “Does she ever?” Beecher responded. “That’s all she told Shep—she’ll provide the requested insight to the process, but only to the two from F and K who visited her last fall. Needless to say, this has to be done before the final presentation at the end of next week. You two will be getting on a plane tomorrow and spending the night at her farm.”

  Lyssa opened her mouth to question the necessity of an overnight, but the resolute, unflinching eyes of her boss—fixed on her—told her not to bother. She’d have to spend the night with Hayden.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lyssa and Hayden arrived at the Indiana farmhouse to find a note from Lula on the bulky oak table in the kitchen. The investor said to show themselves to the same bedrooms as last time and she’d be back around four o’clock. Hayden grunted and stomped up the stairs to where he’d slept last time.

  Lyssa took the opportunity to situate herself in her designated room at the back of the house. While she pulled a few things out of her overnight bag and set them on the tall dresser, Hayden appeared in the doorway.

  “Oh, sorry, do you two want to be alone?” he asked.

  She glanced down at the thick, black tube of plastic in her hand. “Hey! This really is a flashlight.” She flicked it on and shined the bright beam straight into his eyes. “This place gets freaky at night, so I’m prepared to do battle with the ghouls.”

  “All right, all right.” He squinted and held his hands up in front of his eyes. “Can you shut it off so we can talk business?” She complied, and he lowered his hands. “We need to present a unified front with Lula. Judging by that note, it looks like she’s up to her old tricks, and we’ve got too much to do before the DH board meeting next week to let her waste any more of our time. This place has a surprisingly good Internet connection. If she won’t talk, we’ll have to ignore her, plug in, and get as much other work done as we can.”

  “Agreed.” Though Lyssa didn’t relish the idea of being outright rude to the eccentric portfolio manager. “And since we have a couple of hours before she comes back, we can finish going over the draft right now.”

  “Yep. I’ll meet you in the kitchen. Just as soon as you finish fondling your new toy.” He was gone before the next beam could attack his pupils.

  Hayden kept his word and left the topic of becoming more than friends off the table. They focused strictly on the report, and everything felt back to normal between them … causing Lyssa to consider once again whether this was where they should leave the relationship. Why mess with a good thing?

  They shut down their computers and discussed ideas for the format of the final presentation until Lula T. Bell came in at precisely four o’clock. If Lyssa hadn’t been sitting in the woman’s kitchen, she wasn’t sure she’d have recognized her—the portfolio manager wore a pair of dark, pinstriped slacks and a crisp, white, button-down shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail like before, but it was brushed to a silky sheen with a simple black scarf wound neatly around it instead of the gauzy pink bow.

  “Good,” Lula said. “Glad to see you made it okay. I hope you won’t mind diving right in.” She handed them each a glossy folder. “I figured we could spend today on the what of the investment process, and then tomorrow I’ll show you the how.”

  Hayden appeared too stunned to move, so Lyssa cleared the papers from in front of him and added them to her small pile, then got up to shake Lula’s hand. “Nice to see you again.” Hayden recovered and offered his own greeting.

  “That’s where it all begins,” Lula said, pointing to a stack of newspapers and magazines in the corner and walking over to them. “I read everything I can.” She hoisted an armload and plopped it onto the table, letting the periodicals slip off one another and spread out while she took a seat on the opposite side of the table from the F&K employees.

  Her collection was eclectic: The Wall Street Journal and Forbes, of course, but also People Magazine, The National Enquirer, the tiny, local newspaper, beauty magazines, sports journals, literary quarterlies, and science publications. Everything.

  “I look for trends,” Lula continued, “and I pay attention to marketing strategies. People are the most important factor on both sides of the investment equation—those running the company and those buying what they’re selling.” She went on to explain the qualities she looked for and gave examples of companies she’d discovered through scouring newspapers and magazines. When dinnertime came, she pulled out a tray of cold cuts and salads from the local deli, and she openly answered all of Hayden and Lyssa’s questions as they ate. She was a woman who knew when to play coy and when it was time to give it all up.

  After they’d finished eating and cleaned up the dinner dishes, Lula concluded with, “So that’s how I build my list of potential investments. I’ll show you how we decide who actually gets our money tomorrow. Now who’s interested in seeing my baby chicks?”

  Hayden chuckled. Apparently the deluge of forthright information had increased his threshold for his hostess’s quirkiness. “Sure. Let’s go see some chicks.”

  Upon opening the door to the small coop next to the barn, Lyssa couldn’t stop cooing. Dozens of fluffy, yellow chicks chirped and scurried under the glow of a heat lamp. “How old are they?” she asked.

  “Hatched last week. You can pick them up. Here.” Lula reached in and snatched one, handing it to Lyssa, who immediately cupped her hands together to give it a nest. The chick’s warm feathers tickled her skin while its tiny claws poked like gentle pinpricks. Lifting it up to nose level, she held it close. The fuzzy little guy looked directly at her and squeaked.

  “Aww.” Hayden stepped behind Lyssa and leaned forward, lightly stroking the top of the chick’s head with the tip of his index finger. “How long before we can eat him?”

  Lyssa nudged him with her shoulder as best she could without disturbing the chick.

  “Roughly five months,” Lula answered. “But these, I think, I’ll keep. I miss having chickens about.”

  Lyssa smiled and lifted the chick higher so she could turn and place it on top of Hayden’s thick waves. He raised his eyes, but the bird was too far back for him to see. “What’s it doing? Besides tickling me.”

  “Just having a look around,” Lyssa answered. “Oh, and now she’s poking around at your head. Do you feel it?”

  He winced. “Yeah.”

  “Oh no.” Lyssa pushed up on her tiptoes as Hayden gingerly crouched so she could reach the chick and lift it away from his hair. “Uh, Hayden, are you trying out a new hair gel?”

  “Nooo.”

  “Does your head feel a little warm?”

  Hayden groaned and reached a hand up toward his hair but paused before he touched anything gooey and lowered it.

  Lyssa sniggered. “I’m so sorry.” She meant it, but that didn’t stop her from continuing to giggle as she dropped the offending fowl back in with its siblings.

  “Well, ladies, it’s been a blast, but I’m going to go inside and boil my head now.” He held his arms out, bent at the elbow, with his hands clutching and unclutching the air as if torn between wiping the nasty stuff from his hair and keeping his hands clean. When Lyssa snorted, he cast a glare in her direction, but his expression melted into a smile. “If it was anyone but you, Bates … ” As he made his way to the door, he said,
“I’ve got a lot of e-mails to return from earlier in the day, so I’ll say goodnight now, and see you in the morning.”

  “Be up and ready to go by eight,” Lula called as he exited. When the coop door knocked shut, she turned to Lyssa, quirking her mouth in a knowing grin. “Something’s changed between you two.”

  Lyssa held her steady gaze, giving away nothing. “Like what?”

  “Like he’s in love with you.”

  Lyssa felt her jaw go slack. So much for the poker face. How could Lula have possibly conjectured that from a baby chicken pooping on his head?

  “I’m the expert in reading people, remember?” Lula said. “Are you going to give him a chance?”

  Lyssa’s natural instinct was to deny the whole situation, but after opening her mouth wider to do so, she shut it and started again. “I haven’t decided, but he’s not in love with me. He can’t be yet. It’s just that we’ve been working closely together, and he recently had two girls break up with him. He’s, you know, lonely, and projecting feelings onto me.”

  Lula shrugged. “That could be all it is.”

  “Thank you,” Lyssa said, her voice forceful. It was nice to finally have a clear direction pointed out to her.

  “Then again, it could be a simple matter of him finding the right one.”

  Dammit. She shook her head. “I don’t buy into the cheesy chick flick formula—player changes his ways because, gosh darn it, he loves the girl so much. I mean, have you ever seen a situation like that work out in real life?”

  “It’s rare, but yes. Don’t forget that you have to consider the person on each side of the relationship—the player and the one he wants to change for. If there’s a solid person on either side, and they’re both willing to work through the bumps along the way, it can make a hell of a difference.”

  Lyssa averted her gaze and stared hard at the chicks. She didn’t like weathering bumps. But for Hayden …

  “Well, I suppose we should head out and latch these guys up for the night so no critters sneak in for chicken nuggets.” Lula pushed the door open.

  “Lula?” Lyssa said as she remembered the question she’d wanted to ask all day. “Why did you request Hayden and me specifically for this meeting?”

  Lula paused and turned toward her. “Rapport and respect mostly, and also—I was curious to see if something had changed between you two.” She winked and stepped outside.

  Before following, Lyssa bent over the chicks and whispered, “You guys better watch your fuzzy backs around that one.”

  * * *

  Lyssa lay on the high, overstuffed bed with the blankets clutched to her chin, her heart thudding against her ribs. The pounding rain had started about twenty minutes earlier, waking her from a light sleep. Every few minutes an electric show of lights glittered through the thin openings on either side of the window shade, and each crack of thunder that followed was louder than the last.

  When in her apartment, Lyssa enjoyed a good thunderstorm, but in this musty place where time stood still, it was pure Psycho. She tried to shut out thoughts of shower stabbings and insane proprietors, but abandoned hotels and Jack Nicholson axing down her door waited next in line.

  Grabbing the flashlight from the side table, she shot its beam around the room, hoping to amuse herself with its dancing pillar until the storm calmed. The light caught on the filaments of a web above the closed door. She hadn’t noticed it earlier. Focusing the beam there, she admired the glossy weave and thought about how charming it was to be sharing the room with a tiny spider. A shadow at one edge of the web intrigued her. Sitting up and leaning forward revealed that it was the webmaster. And it wasn’t little—it was huge and hairy … probably hairy, though she couldn’t make out that kind of detail.

  She snapped off the flashlight, cutting the vision of the monster, but that only made it grow bigger in her imagination, so she quickly flicked the light back on to find that spidey was on the move. Still spinning? Yes, of course. That made perfect sense. It wasn’t a coincidence that the arachnid had set up camp above the door, and the reason she hadn’t noticed the web earlier was because it hadn’t been there. The monster had been lying in wait, biding its time until she was sleeping so it could spin its trap over the door.

  Good God. If this investment career didn’t work out for her, she should really try writing B horror flicks. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t even afraid of spiders. It wasn’t as if she didn’t spend almost every other night of the year sleeping in a dark room alone. But this was different. In her city apartment, she had neighbors across the hall and directly above and below her—people who would hear her screams. Here, she was isolated, separated from civilization by acres and acres of pastures and fields. Even Lula wouldn’t sleep in the house—she’d left for her own place. It was only Lyssa and Hayden against whatever chose to attack them.

  Hayden. He wasn’t that far away, and she didn’t want to be alone anymore. If she stayed in that room, she knew she wouldn’t sleep. According to the glowing clock on the side table, it was only three-fourteen in the morning—she couldn’t take four more hours of this. Another clap of thunder banged and she was up and off the bed. To reach her goal, she had to cross under the spider. Training her eyes on the beast, she inched forward. Then, taking a deep breath for courage, she rushed to the door, yanked it open, and skittered across its threshold through the short hall and into the main room. She dashed to the stairs and up, up, up.

  Upon reaching the top step, she felt silly. What would she even say to Hayden? She considered turning back, but the uncovered window next to her lit up before a boom shook the floor. In her frantic state, she rushed forward and pushed on the first door she came to. Happily, it opened to Hayden’s room—as revealed by the pillar of light she cast onto his form on the bed.

  He flipped around and shielded his eyes with both arms. “What the hell?”

  “Sorry, it’s me.” She tilted the flashlight to hold it under her chin and illuminate her face.

  “The ghost of Lizzie Borden?”

  “Sorry.” She shifted the light to a neutral wall. “I got freaked by the storm.”

  “Storm?”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have woken you. Go back to sleep.” She wanted to slink her way back to her room, but she couldn’t make her feet move.

  “Bates, come here.” He pulled back the blankets and held a shadowy arm out to her.

  Everything in her urged her forward, but first: “You know this doesn’t mean anything, right? I’m just scared—”

  “And in need of my big, strong arms. Got it. Now please climb in so I can get back to sleep.”

  The fluttering of light from behind the curtain told her what was next, so she jumped to the bed, snuggling against her partner before the next boom sounded. Too late, she realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. As soon as she discerned his firm, naked flesh against her palms, she twisted around so her back was to him. He put his arm around her and held her close.

  “Is that a flashlight or are you just happy to see me?” he mumbled, and Lyssa felt the rock hard object pressed between them.

  “Sorry.” She reached to pull it out and settled back onto her side.

  “Stop saying sorry.” His voice was thick and sleepy. Giving a gentle squeeze, he plastered her to his bare chest. “This is like Christmas, my birthday, and winning the lottery all mashed together.”

  She smiled and sank into his warmth, resting her head on the inside of his shoulder and letting her pulse calm until it matched the rhythmic cadence of his heartbeat against her spine. Before long, his breath grew deeper, tickling her hair on his exhale, and she knew he was sleeping. As soon as her adrenaline cooled, she was able to join him.

  * * *

  When her eyes opened, the room was still dark. During her sleep, she’d shifted onto her back, and Hayden now curled against her. As her mind came into focus, she realized what had woken her—soft tickling on her bare shoulder.

  “Hayden,” she whi
spered, tilting her head toward him.

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re kissing me.”

  “I was dreaming.” He slowly lifted his eyelids and nuzzled his nose against her before touching another kiss. “Looks like I still am.”

  “Remember the part of the dream where I said this doesn’t mean anything?”

  He reclosed his eyes and groaned, letting his head settle onto the pillow a few inches away from her. She turned her face to stare at the ceiling and pulled the quilt up over her shoulders, snuggling in. “Hayden?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you really think we’d work out—as a couple?”

  “I wouldn’t have suggested we try if I didn’t think chances were good.”

  “But you’re not one hundred percent sure of it.”

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure of anything.”

  She smiled. It was a good answer. Honest. If he’d guaranteed sunshine and rainbows, she’d have known he was full of crap. She slid the blankets off her shoulders and pushed up onto her elbows to peer past him at the clock. It was six forty-three. Plenty of time to start talking things through before she’d have to get up and shower.

  Her movement had roused him, and his muted blue eyes were wide open, watching her. Pale light leaked in through the gauzy curtain and gently illuminated the elegant contours of one side of his face, leaving the other in mysterious shadow. Tousled by sleep, his thick hair jutted out at odd angles, but it didn’t matter—the longing she read in his gaze made him the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

  As if it had its own mind, her hand reached across him to touch his side and rake her fingers upward, combing through his chest hair, something she now realized she’d wanted to do ever since she’d seen him emerge dripping wet from the pool in Baltimore. He didn’t move, just watched her, but she felt the increased pace of his heartbeat through her palm.