by Darcy Dawes
“Are you asking me out on a date, Desmond? As in, a proper date? Not a quickie in the storage cupboard or making out in the back of your car?”
He laughed. “I guess I am. Would you like to?”
I smiled as I stood up from my dad’s desk. I walked over to Desmond’s side, glancing over his should to check nobody was looking. I pressed my lips to his, so quickly I barely felt this kiss. “I’d love to,” I murmured.
Desmond gazed down at me with eyes thick with desire. He grabbed the top of my dress and pulled me against him, running his other hand through my hair as he kissed me. This time the kiss was long, and deep, and lingering.
I wanted it to go on forever. I wanted to undress Desmond where he stood.
Both of us knew we couldn’t go further; not when we were in the doorway of my dad’s office, after all.
Eventually I stepped away from him, my face red and hot and flustered. “So when is this date happening?” I breathed.
It took Desmond a second to reply. Looking down I saw he had an erection that he was likely trying to will out of existence; I resisted the urge to laugh.
“Tomorrow night,” he insisted, brushing his hand against my own. “Tomorrow night, and then you can stay over at mine.”
I reached forward and bit his lower lip. “Sounds good to me. Now get back to work, Mister Rivers.”
He grinned, throwing his hand up in a mock salute as he left the office. “Aye aye, boss,” he said, and then he was gone.
I closed the door behind him, sliding myself down along it to the floor before I could stop myself. Desmond really was pulling a number on my heart; I couldn’t even stand and all he’d done was kiss me. Excitedly I thought of tomorrow night, and what it would entail.
We’d go out for dinner in public. Would we kiss and hold hands? People would see us together. Dad would find out and then, whether he liked it or not, Desmond and I would no longer have to slink behind everyone’s backs to be together.
Though I thrived on our secret trysts, the idea of safely being able to kiss in front of everyone—to show affection of any kind, really—was intoxicating.
My stomach grumbled once more, harder this time. Going home early really was the best idea, I decided, but I’d restock the bathrooms first. The boys had been lax in getting more toilet paper from the storage cupboard for it, and the toilet itself could do with bleaching.
“Really, what would they do without me?” I murmured happily as I riffled through the storage cupboard for the required supplies.
“…thinks she’s all that, just because her dad’s the boss.”
My ears pricked up at the voice, which was muffled by the mostly-closed storage cupboard door. I crept over to it and peeked through the gap to the shop.
David and Jason were leaning against a car Desmond was working on, clearing talking away with no intention of helping.
“What does she even do, anyway?” David complained. “I mean, didn’t her dad do everything just fine before she came along? So what does she do other than waltz about in those heels driving us insane?”
Jason had a lecherous expression on his face. “The number of times she’s walked by when I’m working under a car and I can see up her skirt…it’s like she wants me to look.”
“I know, right?!” David agreed. “She must get off on it, knowing we’re all eyeing her up. What a slut.”
I wanted to storm over there and punch them both in the face. I nearly did. But then Desmond straightened his back and stared at them.
I smiled. There’s no way he’ll let them get away with talking about me like that, I thought, satisfied. He’ll punch them for me. Though I might still do it myself.
“Will you guys just stop talking about Callie?” he insisted.
David laughed. “Oh come off it, Des. You fuck her in your head just as much as we do.”
“If she gave you the opportunity to bang her no way would you say no,” Jason tacked on, nodding enthusiastically.
Desmond sighed as if he were talking to two very slow children. In a way he was.
“Callie is just a stupid, silly girl who has nothing better to do. Just ignore her. She’s a distraction, but a lethal one. You want to lose your jobs, huh? Her dad pays well. You mess with her, you’ll be fired. And she’ll be gone in a month back to New York, anyway. Why bother wasting your time on her?”
My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was that really how Desmond saw me? Just a silly girl with too much time on her hands? Was he sleeping with me just to keep me occupied? Was he—
“I guess you’re right,” Jason, said, tilting his head to the side as if deep in thought. “Though, are you really saying you wouldn’t sleep with her if she gave you the opportunity, Des?”
Desmond laughed. “You really think I’m hard done by when it comes to finding a woman to sleep with? I told you, Callie is just a little girl playing at being an adult. If I wanted to fuck I’d find a woman to do it with.”
David and Jason laughed in unison. “God, you’re right. I bet, once you get past the heels and skirts and make-up, she’s not even that hot. Or she’d be crap in bed. The good-looking ones usually are.”
I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. I crept out of the storage cupboard and dutifully restocked the bathrooms, then retreated to my dad’s office to file some paperwork that didn’t actually need filing until tomorrow. I couldn’t trust myself not to cry if I saw Desmond’s face.
Now I knew how he really felt about me. He’d been lying to me—stringing me along on a whim because he could. I was just an immature little girl to him. I wasn’t worth his time.
Well, if that was the way it wasn’t then he could be damn sure I wasn’t going to waste any more time on him.
I grabbed my bag and left the office as quickly as I could. I saw Desmond watching me from the car he was working on, hand raised as if he was waving good-bye. I ignored him, even when he frowned in confusion.
I felt like such an idiot. A fool. A child, just like Desmond thought I was. I’d completely and utterly fallen for his charms and put down my guard.
I was never going to make the same mistake again.
Chapter Ten
Desmond
When my phone rang I didn’t immediately acknowledge it. I was too busy worrying over why Callie had seemed out of sorts after lunch; she hadn’t spoken a word to me before she left.
But then I realized it was Callie herself who was calling me, so I rushed to pick up my cell phone.
“Callie, how are you?” I asked, feeling bright already. Clearly I’d imagined her ignoring me. “I’ve booked somewhere pretty nice for tomorrow, so—”
“I can’t go, Desmond,” she cut in. Her voice was flat. “I have some things I need to organize for college.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t expected her to say she couldn’t make it so last-minute, but then again Callie did have a life outside of her dad’s auto shop. I had to remember that. “When should I reschedule for, then?”
A pause. A horrible, drawn-out pause that told me everything I needed to know.
“I don’t think I want to see you anymore,” Callie finally murmured. “It was a mistake to get so involved with you.”
“Callie—”
“Don’t contact me.”
And then the line cut out, and Callie’s voice was gone.
“Callie? Callie!” I shouted down the receiver, furious and confused. Just what had happened to her? What had I done?
When I called her back she didn’t pick up. She didn’t pick up the second time, either, nor the third. I sent her message after message until even I had to admit I was acting like a crazy person. I took a deep breath and put don my cell phone.
“You can work this out, Des,” I muttered allowed. I rubbed my fingertips into my temples. “You can work this out. What have you done wrong, you stupid idiot? What have you said? What have you done?”
But I kept drawing a blank. The last interaction I�
��d had with Callie in person was a quick two minutes of stolen kisses in her dad’s office after lunch. We’d been happy. Horny. Excited for our official first date.
I didn’t sleep well that night, when I slept at all.
When I got to the office the next day it somehow did not surprise me that Callie was not there. I searched everywhere for her, finally knocking on the door of Charles’ office to inquire about his daughter.
“She’s not feeling well,” my boss said. His eyebrows were knitted together in concern. “She really didn’t look good last night, so I told her not to come in. It’s so weird—she was completely fine yesterday morning. I wonder…”
“You wonder what?” I asked, barely loud enough to be heard over the throbbing of my own heart. Just what did Charles suspect?
The older man sighed and slumped in his chair. “Perhaps I’ve been pressuring her too much to help me with the business. I know she has plans of her own. I’d just hoped…ah, I don’t know. It was never fair of me to try and tie her down just because I wanted her here, yet I did it anyway. The least I can do is respect Callie and give her some space to work out what she wants to do on her own.”
My stomach lurched. If that were truly the reason for Callie’s on behavior on the phone then it would be easy enough to win her back around. I just had to give her some space—as her dad was planning to do—and then talk to her like the adult she was about her future plans.
If she wanted to stay in New York after college, or move somewhere else entirely, I would support her decision. But I wanted to make it clear that my feelings for her were not directly tied to her merely being here, working at the shop. I’d want to be with her even if she moved away.
It was odd, being so sure of my feelings for Callie like this. I’d never stopped to think about it before. Just when had I fallen so hard for her? This month? Last month? Last summer? I honestly didn’t know.
The next three days were torture. Callie didn’t come into work and, when her dad miserably told me she’d decided to stay in a local hotel in lieu of staying at home, I felt my stomach twist again.
Was she really just going to leave without discussing anything? It wasn’t like her. Callie had always been so forthright. So honest. It was one of the qualities that attracted me to her. It drove me wild.
And now she was hiding, and nobody could work out why.
On the afternoon of the fourth day I saw David and Jason snickering to themselves.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded, storming over to them with a face like thunder.
Either they were oblivious to my mood or they didn’t care. “We were just talking about how you were right, Des,” Jason explained, smiling easily. “Callie really did just leave when it suited her, without thinking of how it would affect the shop.”
“Though, if she really was always gonna be this flaky and leave then maybe I should’ve tried harder to get with her before she was gone—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I muttered through gritted teeth. The two of them stared at me uncertainly. “Just…shut the fuck up. Where do you get of talking about women like this? Callie is a human being, and your boss’ daughter, for Christ’s sake. You sound like creeps and rapists the way you talk about her, do you know that?”
David frowned. “Hey, you were talking about her like—”
“No, I wasn’t,” I cut in, seething. “I told you she was a silly girl who wasn’t worth your attention so you’d leave her the hell alone. There’s a difference.”
Jason raised an eyebrow. “Ah, so you were after her yourself all along? Why didn’t you—”
“Why does a man have to be interested in a woman in order for him to demand others respect her?! Do the two of you hear yourselves? Grow up! The world does not revolve around you and your fucking dicks!”
The two men were stunned to silence. And then—
“Des, in my office,” Charles called out. His voice was quiet, but his tone spoke volumes. I wondered what I’d done. Would he really give me in trouble for shouting at his employees?
With one final glare at David and Jason I stalked over to Charles’ office, closing the door behind me before sitting down in front of his desk.
“What’s wrong, Charles?” I asked, taking a deep breath to contain my previous anger.
In contrast, Charles himself was the epitome of fury. His face was contorted in rage. When he slammed his fists against his desk I flinched away.
“What’s wrong, you ask? What’s wrong? You talk about my daughter—someone who likes and respects you, someone who adores you—like she’s a worthless piece of trash and you wonder what’s wrong?”
I stared at him, aghast. “Just what are you talking about?”
Charles twisted his computer monitor around. Multiple CCTV camera feed recordings were on display…including the afternoon I’d told David and Jason that Callie was a distraction who’d be out of their hair soon enough.
I cringed. “Charles, I only said all of that so they’d leave her alone. Their comments towards her were getting out of hand. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You come to me and tell me about it so I can fire their asses!” he shouted. “You give them in trouble! You call them out on it! You don’t just let them—”
“What do you think I was just doing now, Charles?” I said, fighting my own temper. “I was literally just lecturing them on it.”
Charles looked like he was about to pull his thinning hair out. “Why didn’t you do that in the first place?”
“What does it matter when I said it? I’ve told them now, so—”
“Callie heard you talking to them the first time.”
I froze. “What?”
He stabbed a finger at the CCTV recording, to the door of the storage cupboard. And lo and behold there was Callie, half-hidden by the door.
Listening.
To me belittling her in front of everyone.
Saying she was worthless.
Shit.
“Fuck, Charles, I’m so—”
“Don’t apologize to me, you idiot!” he berated. “Apologize to my little girl! Now her behavior makes so much sense. She’d never reacted like this to me putting job pressure on her. But you—whenever it’s been about you Callie gets emotional.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
Charles laughed bitterly. “You’re hopeless, Des. You must know last summer she was crazy about you. I went half-mad hearing her sigh and mope over you in the house. I’ve never seen her act like that over anyone else. But, you know what? I trust her. She’s a good girl; always respected herself. And you know I’ve always trusted you to be decent. If the man she liked was you then I was fine with it.
I looked at the floor. “I always thought—it was just a crush, that she didn’t—”
“And when has my Callie ever not been serious about anything? You know her as well as I do. Or, at least, I always thought you did. Maybe I was wrong.”
“You’re not!” I stood up in earnest. “You’re not wrong. You say Callie is crazy about me. Well, I’m worse. So much worse. I can’t imagine not being with her.”
Was it just me, or was there the hint of a satisfied smile on Charles’ lips at my declaration.
He pointed at the door. “Well what are you waiting for? Go apologize to my daughter.”
“Only if you fire David and Jason,” I replied. “They don’t deserve any more chances to improve their behavior in the shop. They’re done.”
Charles nodded. “I’ll sort it out. Now get going.”
I’d never left the shop so fast in my life.
Chapter Eleven
Callie
I’d been staying in a fancy hotel for the past couple of days. Well, fancy for my home town, at least. It was on the ground floor, with an elevated terrace full of potted plants and a little, mosaic-tiled table and two chairs overlooking an outdoor pool.
I just couldn’t bear to see my mom and dad’s faces right now. All I wanted to do was
to go back to New York, but I didn’t want to disappoint my dad, either.
I ruined everything with my childish pursuit of Desmond Rivers.
I wish I’d never tried to seduce him. I wish I’d taken last summer as the hint I needed to get over him. That way I wouldn’t have fallen for such an asshole, and ruined the workplace environment at the garage. It was only in not going there for a few days that I realized just how much I had actually enjoyed working there.
And now everything was ruined.
“Stupid, stupid girl,” I cried, though no tears fell.
“I’d rather say you’re one of the cleverest girls I’ve ever met, Callie.”
I froze. I knew that voice, which meant I didn’t want to turn around to see the person in question’s face.
“Come on, Callie, please turn around,” Desmond said. He was clearly standing on the terrace.
I resolutely shook my head. “Fuck off,” I muttered. “You’re the last person I want to see right now. And you’re trespassing.”
He chuckled. “The guy who runs the hotel owed me a favor. Please, just turn around so I can apologize for how much of an asshole you must think I am.”
I twisted around slightly, glaring at Desmond over my shoulder. “That I think you are? You are an asshole, Desmond! The way you spoke about me—belittled me—is not how a nice guy talks about people. No, you’re a bastard. A complete and utter bastard.”
Desmond grimaced with every word. He leaned against the terrace railing and sighed. “Please, Callie. Give me five minutes. Five minutes then I’ll be out of your hair.”
I arched an eyebrow. What could he possibly tell me in five minutes that could change my mind? There was no way he could erase what he’d said to the boys at the garage. And yet I could tell Desmond wouldn’t leave until he said his piece so, though I hated it, I walked towards him and the terrace.
“Speak, then,” I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest and schooling my expression to something neutral in the process. I didn’t want to give Desmond the satisfaction of seeing me react to anything he said.