Taking Control

by Danielle Dickson

  “So, Taylor.”

  I face him again, watching as he straightens the drink menus in the stand. “Mmmhmmm?”

  “I was thinking about the meeting I promised you. My schedule is pretty full-on, it always is, but I have a morning slot free on Friday. I…” He brushes the palm of his hand over the back of his neck. “I’d like to take you somewhere to give you a better idea of what we’re looking for.”

  “As long as this somewhere isn’t your house again, Mr. Reed, I’d be more than happy to go with you,” I joke, not divulging that I have no objections about seeing the inside of his bedroom again.

  He laughs. “No more unscheduled visits to my house, I promise. Trust me, spontaneous is not my middle name.”

  “Oh yeah? You don’t like taking last-minute road trips?”

  If I wasn’t hanging on his every word, I’d have missed the way his shoulders drew back. “Not my thing, no.”

  “Never?” One of his fingers starts to tap a beat on the table top but the rhythm of it makes me feel uncomfortable. It’s fast and erratic so I change the topic. “I haven’t been much of anywhere either really. In college D was always trying to get me to travel to her or go on trips with her, but I was a bit of a nerd.”

  The beat he’s tapping seems to slow down. “You? A nerd?”

  “Yes, me. Sure, I went to parties, but I always studied hard when I needed to. My parents aren’t exactly loaded so I had to get a job throughout college to help pay my way. My funds didn’t allow me to be frivolous with trips and spring break like my friends but… sorry, I’m word vomiting.”

  He studies me for a moment. “I like hearing about you, it gives me something to concentrate on other than my thoughts.”

  “My head is constantly like a garbage disposal whizzing around, especially when I’m nervous. Hence the word vomit.”

  “What’s there to be nervous of?”

  I take a sip of my drink to stall. I shouldn’t have said that. “I…” I sigh. “You make me nervous.”

  Zander

  I can’t blame her, I seem to make a lot of people nervous. “How so?”

  She starts stirring her drink with a small black straw. “Not in a bad way or anything.” She takes a sip and looks up at me. “I’m nervous about how this is going to turn out. I guess it’s because I feel a connection to you, but I don’t really know you. Or at least I feel like I don’t.”

  Whoa, this girl doesn’t hold back.

  I want to tell her everything about me, but all of this is still new territory. If I tell her, she’ll run and never look back. But maybe there’s a happy medium where I’m not internally restraining myself from calling Reg because I’m dredging up bad memories.

  I clear my throat, about to take a dive headfirst into the unknown. “My birthday is in three weeks. January twenty-eighth.” My heart pounds when her lips lift at the corners and it makes me want to ignore the voice in the back of my head telling me I should be the one running. “I don’t have many hobbies. If I’m not working I’ll either be working out, with Kai, or training.”

  She raises a brow. “Training?”

  “Yeah. When I was younger I got into mixed martial arts. Not professionally, but it kept me fit and off the streets.” I cringe at the information I just divulged, but she doesn’t pick up on the tension radiating off me; she seems intrigued.

  “Really? That’s amazing. When I was younger the most exercise I got was walking to and from school. D was the athletic one; she’s a personal trainer.”

  “You’ve known her for a long time then?”

  “Since sixth grade. There’s not really a great story to the start of our friendship like most best friends seem to have. She was new and sat down beside me at recess one time and that was that, I couldn’t shake her from then on.” She slurps the rest of her drink and I signal the waitress for one more. “You and Kai are pretty close, huh?” She snorts out a chuckle. “Closer than most best friends.”

  Mine and Kai’s arrangement is unusual to others, but to us it’s been the norm since a few months after we first met. “You could say that.”

  Her mouth twists and she bites her lip. “Okay, so… how do you not fight over who does what? And how does jealousy not come into it?”

  I really don’t want to talk about my sexual conquests, but it doesn’t seem to bother her, so I place my hands entwined in front of me on the table as I lean toward her, keeping my voice low. “I’ve known Kai for seven years. For me, that’s a long time to have one person in my life for; he’s about the only person I trust.” I take a breath. “Without going into details, we were there for each other when no one else was and from that came an understanding.” Her drink is brought over and I wait for the waitress to leave before continuing. “We’ve always been attracted to the same girls but never interested in anything more than sex. We both wanted the same girl once and instead of fighting over her, we decided to share. Jealousy has never come into it because there’s never been anything more wanted from anyone on either side.”

  I know I sound cold, but that’s what it’s always been. I’m never a dick to the women we’ve fooled around with, but I don’t promise them flowers and rainbows either. They know what they’re in for beforehand.

  She bites her bottom lip, seeming to hesitate before she says, “You said I was different.”

  “You are.” I don’t shy away from her gaze, and I don’t run even though every fiber of my being is telling me I should. “Until you there’s never been anything more.”

  She smiles at me. “You do that when you’re uncomfortable.”

  “Do what?” Her hand lands on mine, stopping the beat I didn’t even realize I was tapping out on the table until she points it out.

  “Why does talking about yourself and your feelings make you uncomfortable?”

  I try and play it off, shrugging. “I’m a guy.” She tuts, leaning back and letting go of my hand. As soon as she breaks contact, I’m more aware of my hands so I take a sip of my water.

  “My dad was the one who taught me that feelings shouldn’t be kept to yourself unless they’ll get you into trouble. So all that ‘guys don’t share their feelings’ is bullcrap.”

  And how right he is about your feelings getting you into trouble.

  “Alright, not all guys then. But me in particular; I’m a private person. You ever seen me on an eligible bachelors list?” She thinks about it for a second and shakes her head. “Exactly. Do you know how many times I’ve been approached by journalists for the big scoop on Zander Reed?” I chuckle. “Too many to count.”

  “But you’re not interested?”

  “Nah. Nothing I do is for fame or money or women like so many others seem to care about. I’m no better than the average guy walking down the street, in fact, they’re probably better than I am. All the paparazzi are interested in is gossip and I’m not into playing games so they grew tired of me. I’m old news.”

  “So, I won’t be seeing a ‘Mr. Moneybags’ feature on the cover of any magazines anytime soon?”

  I let out a laugh. “Mr. Moneybags?”

  “That’s what the normal headlines are like, aren’t they? Men fighting over who has the biggest wad?”

  My laugh grows louder and Taylor joins in, and just like that the ice is broken. The night goes smoothly from there, never deviating from the lighthearted questions like: what’s your favorite movie, or what’s your favorite ice cream flavor. And with each thing she divulges, the easier it is to be around her in the present and not inside my head.

  I learned she visits her parents every Sunday and they have a family dinner together which is such an unusual concept to me considering I haven’t seen mine in four months. And when I say mine, I don’t mean my parents. I only have a sister and a niece, but I’ve been a shitty brother and uncle over the years because of the way I am.

  Taylor switched to water after her fourth drink claiming she didn’t want a hangover for work in the morning, but I know it’s because she doesn�
��t want to get drunk in front of me again.

  I watch as she walks back toward me through the crowd after going to pee for the seventh time since we got here.

  I look down at my watch as she sits back down. “It’s getting late. Wanna get out of here?”

  She may not have wanted to get drunk in front of me, but I can tell the alcohol has loosened her up.

  A sexy smile lifts her lips. “Mr. Reed, are you asking me to go home with you?”

  I barely hold in a groan as she runs her foot up the inside of my left leg. “As much as I want to take you back home with me right now, we both have work tomorrow and everything I want to do to you will last at least the night.”

  That’s true too, but I don’t want to voice the fact bringing her home spontaneously the other day nearly made me fall off the wagon.

  After I dropped her back off at work I had to drive around for two hours to get all my thoughts in order. And it wasn’t because she makes me feel all kinds of out of control. It’s because I don’t care that she does.

  I don’t care about anything else when I’m with her, and it still scares me that she can have that sort of power over me.

  “I don’t mind a little sleep deprivation. I’ve survived in worse conditions,” she says seductively.

  I chuckle as I stand and she takes the hand I offer her. “Come on, baby, let’s get you home.”

  She protests and fights her case all the way to the car and my restraint is starting to break. I wanted to try the whole dating thing, but maybe it’s just not me?

  In one swift motion, I back her up against a wall in the underground lot I’m parked in, my lips inches away from hers. “Is this what you want, Taylor?”

  A small gasp escapes her lips as I press my hips into her. I know she can feel my rock-hard cock straining against the zipper of my jeans, but I’m not expecting her to run her hand over the bulge.

  “Yes.” It comes out breathily and lust-filled.

  Groaning, I crush my lips down onto hers and pin her hands above her head. Her tongue dances with mine in hunger, desperate and full of passion and want—need. And all I can hear is my heartbeat in my own ears as my blood pumps furiously through my body.

  I’ve always enjoyed sex, who doesn’t? But it’s never felt like this before. I’ve never felt the need to slow things down and savor the moment as if it’s the last time I’ll ever get to experience it.

  And maybe it is, so I’ll take in every second of it like I’m bottling the feeling of the high for later.

  10

  Zander

  As much as I wanted to take her right then and there, I couldn’t. After an intense make-out session like we were teenagers behind the bleachers, I got her into my car and drove her home, again much to her protest but with the promise of a second date tonight.

  On Wednesdays I normally train at the gym, but I’ve fought with myself that it’s worth missing out on. Unfortunately for everyone I work with, it doesn’t place me in a very good headspace.

  I rub my temples against the whiney voice of Kai’s PA. I don’t remember her voice being this high. “Remind me why you didn’t go with him again?” I ask her impatiently.

  “I’m sorry, sir?”

  “Kai. Why didn’t you go to England with him?”

  She tosses her platinum blond hair over her shoulder and giggles. I cringe, I hate when women giggle unnecessarily. “He told me I was of better use here. Anything he needs me for I can do from here while helping you stay on schedule while Cleo is off this week.”

  Right, I knew there was someone missing today. If Cleo was here the room would be silent. I continue to rub my temples.

  “Can I get you some Advil?”

  I sigh, anything to get her out of here for a few minutes. “Please, Tiffany.”

  “Coming right up. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Take your time.” Seriously.

  I know I don’t need pain meds because there’s no actual pain there, it’s all in my head. A phantom pain. But even if there was, I wouldn’t take them on account of—

  “Here you go, I brought extra so you can take two now and then another two in around four hours.” That was fast, I think this woman may be superhuman.

  She passes over four round pills wrapped in a napkin and a glass of water before stepping back and placing her hands behind her back, smiling at me like a fucking puppy wanting me to throw her a bone.

  “Thank you.” I place them in front of me on my desk. “Can you remind me of my schedule today before you leave.”

  I make sure to enunciate the word leave so she knows that’s what she’s to do afterward.

  “Sure.”

  She starts talking but all I keep thinking is: this is why I hired Cleo.

  Cleo has been with me for the best part of five years now. I hired her because she has a no-nonsense policy for putting up with people’s shit. She doesn’t need me to micromanage her and tell her what she needs to do. She comes into work every day and gets things done while keeping me on schedule. And she does all this without speaking to me more than necessary.

  And yes, while that may seem cold again, it’s the way we work. I know Cleo came from nothing just like me. Everyone who works for this company has a background check, and if she were interviewed by anyone other than me, she wouldn’t have gotten the job.

  She had no experience or many qualifications to show me, but what I did see in her was the same determination I’ve stared into every day in the mirror for the last seven years. She’s a fighter. One I was willing to hire on the spot because my gut told me she was the right fit.

  I chose my assistant, whereas Kai let someone else choose his, ergo, he ended up with Tiffany.

  “Mr. Reed?”

  “Hmm?” I realize I haven't been paying any attention to her and immediately feel guilty. “That’s great, thank you. Why don’t you take an early lunch?”

  Bright white teeth greet me. “Thank you, sir.”

  She leaves and I sigh in relief when the door shuts behind her. It’s finally silent, but in the silence is a voice in the back of my head saying I shouldn’t be doing this. I can’t cope with being a CEO of a company. I don’t deserve any of this.

  Pushing my chair back, I stare at the four pills in front of me as I lean my forearms on my knees. No matter how hard I try, my life is always trying to come full circle. It’s trying to remind me of where I came from and where I could so easily end up again.

  My skin starts crawling the more I stare at them, so I stand and turn toward the window, bracing my forehead against the coolness of the glass.

  You’re missing one training session and you knew Cleo was off this week, she gave you a month’s notice. Get ahold of yourself!

  I turn to look at the pills, anger fizzling to the surface. I need them gone. I scrape them into the top drawer of my desk and as soon as I shut it on them, the raging storm in my head clears and the skies brighten, letting me sort through my thoughts one by one.

  Cleo is away until Tuesday; I can handle that.

  Kai will be back tomorrow to attend most of these meetings; he’s the face of the company and the best at dealing with everything. Then I can go back to being behind the scenes and getting this new gym up and running. We still have so much to do.

  And then there’s Taylor. I can’t stop fucking thinking about her. It’s like she’s embedded herself into my psyche so bad that even when I’m not consciously thinking about her, I still find myself waiting for the chance to see her again.

  So that leaves me with just one option: to cancel my training session and make good on this date. I know I’ll be okay. As soon as I’m with Taylor tonight at her place, nothing will seem to matter as much as it does right now.

  My intercom beeps and I blow out a breath before pressing it. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mr. Reed, it’s Brooke from reception. There’s a girl on line one for you, she says she’s your niece.”

  My mouth turns dry and I have to take a
sip of the water Tiffany left before saying anything. “Okay. Thanks.”

  My hand shakes as I reach for the phone, cursing up a storm as I pick it up and bring it to my ear. “Hello?” My heart pounds.

  “Mom’s mad at you,” a muffled voice states.

  “Kinz? Is that you?”

  There’s a rustling over the line and her voice becomes clearer. “Unless you have any other nieces.”

  I chuckle out of habit, it’s definitely Kinsey. “Your mom’s mad at me, huh?” I would be too.

  “Yeah, so is Dad, but not as bad as my mom.”

  I sigh. “I know, kiddo.”

  She’s silent for a beat before saying, “Why didn’t you come for Thanksgiving?”

  “I—”

  “Or Christmas, or New Year.”

  I rub my forehead. “I’ve been busy.”

  “So have I, but I still made it back from college for the holidays. You live in the same city.”

  Her upset tone breaks my heart. I’ve constantly put off going around to their place because I know how much of a disappointment I’ve been lately. All they’ve ever wanted was me back in their lives, but my sister kept pushing and pushing until one day I decided I couldn’t keep spiraling like I was without it effecting them. So I distanced myself.

  “Are you still getting the money?”

  She huffs. “I’m eighteen and I have more social skills than you, Uncle Z. Stop avoiding the hard questions and call Mom.” She pauses. “And, yes, I’m still getting the money. Thank you.”

  I ignore her insistence to call her mom. “Good. Don’t tell your mother.”

  I can practically hear her eye roll from here. “She’s not stupid, she knows I didn’t save up enough to buy that car on my own. That’s why Dad’s mad, that and because you won’t call.”

  “I’ll call,” I tell her, although I wish I hadn’t because she’ll hold me to it.

  “Please do, she misses you.” She clears her throat and I have to pull the phone away from my ear when she adds, “We all do. But I’ll be back in a few weeks to see the babies.”