“I never overlook loyalty,” she said when she unexpectedly reached out and touched my arm. “You should know that.”
“And you should know that I know that you easily could have just handed me over to her. But you didn’t. Instead, you shut her down. So, thank you for that. I know I haven’t done everything exactly as you’ve expected of me, Ms. Blackwell, but hearing you give her some pushback when it came to me suggested that maybe I’m not a lost cause after all.”
“Let’s not go that far, darling,” Blackwell said. “Because what you also need to know is that I’ll do anything not to lose.”
When she said that to me, I couldn’t keep my mouth from falling open. This was her response to me? After what I thought had been such a groundbreaking conversation in which we each seemed to appreciate the other?
“How about if we fill you up with some roughage?” Blackwell said with a self-satisfied smile. “I think we’re due for an early lunch, don’t you, Madison? Otherwise, you’re just going to look like a horror show of perplexity when we return to Wenn. So today lunch is on me, not that you should ever get used to that.”
She leaned forward in her seat and tapped Cutter on his right shoulder. “Le Salade, darling. Tout-de-suite!”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
By the end of the day, Blackwell had put me through my paces again by asking me to personally deliver a litany of signed paperwork to dozens of executives throughout Wenn’s many different businesses, to the point where I thought I’d spent more time in an elevator in one day than I had in my entire life.
When I returned to the fifty-first floor, I was a sweaty mess. She’d given me so much to do in such a short period of time, my pulse and adrenaline were in overdrive. But since there was no way in hell that I could present myself to her looking like this, I stopped at the restroom and blotted my face with a few paper towels in an effort to look as if all of this had been nothing short of a breeze for me, which was far from the case.
In fact, if she keeps this up, she’s going to be the end of me, I thought.
When I was finished, I hurried down the hallway and took a breath before I knocked on her doorjamb. With a swift flick of her head, she glanced away from her computer screen and narrowed her eyes as her gaze swept over me.
“I’m assuming by the sweat on your brow that you’ve somehow managed to survive today?”
I didn’t get all of it? Damn it!
“Everything has been delivered,” I said, and when I said it, I was aware that I sounded winded, which she no doubt noticed.
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
“Then that just tells me that next week, you can handle more—so expect more from me, Madison. But good job, nevertheless. I realize that hustling through a building the size of Wenn Enterprises is nothing short of daunting, so I appreciate your efficiency. I’ve sent you a few emails since you’ve been gone that need to be answered before you leave for the weekend. Tend to them, and I’ll see you here on Monday.”
“Thank you, Ms. Blackwell.”
With a deep sense of relief that this week was just about behind me, I went back to my desk, sat down, woke my computer from its slumber, and discreetly looked across the room at Brock’s office.
When I saw that he wasn’t there—and that his office light was off—I wondered where he was. Had he already gone home? Earlier, he’d asked me if I’d be free after work, and also if I was free this weekend. Instead of obsessing over it, I decided that I knew better and just dismissed the thought that he’d leave without saying goodbye, especially after what had happened between us in the break room that morning.
Wherever he is, he’ll be back, so focus.
I opened my emails, read through them, saw that the requests were relatively minor, and that if I worked swiftly, I could get through them within a half hour.
I was in the process of answering the fourth email when Brock stepped into the office. And when he did, I brightened up. As he walked past me, our eyes connected for a heated instant before he went into his office, tossed a file onto his desk, switched on the light, and started up his computer as Blackwell’s personal line rang.
Aware that Brock was looking at me, I listened to Blackwell as I pretended to type.
“Daniella?” she said. “How did the shopping go today? Do you feel better? I thought that you would—retail therapy and all that. I’m sorry? Come again? What in God’s name do you mean that you’ve purchased a man?”
At that moment, my computer dinged, but because I had the volume down so low, I was confident that only I could hear it. Not that that mattered. I’d specifically asked him not to contact me this way.
“Want to get out of here?” he wrote. “After the meeting I just had with Alex, I’ve had it with today. Now, I’d rather spend tonight and the rest of the weekend with you. How soon can you leave?”
I hadn’t agreed to spend the weekend with him, but we could discuss that later.
“Fifteen minutes?” I wrote.
“It’s beautiful outside. How about if we take a walk through the Park and then have dinner somewhere? Maybe in the Village. I’ll wait for you to leave, and then I’ll be five minutes behind you. Sound good?”
I glanced up over my computer monitor and gave him a brief nod while my heart quickened with the idea of having him next to me again.
And then my inner voice decided it was time for another chat.
Was all of this moving too fast? After last night and what had happened between us in the break room this morning, I knew in my gut that, for whatever reason, it wasn’t just the air that had shifted between us, but also the earth. Somehow there was something big between us. It was vital. It was alive. And despite how hard I’d initially tried to shut it down, I knew for certain that it was real and it wasn’t going to go away.
Whatever was evolving didn’t care about my job. And it didn’t care about the fact that I was on the verge of putting my heart on the line. It was bigger than that, more consuming than that. What I knew in my soul is that this was too rare to ignore. I had never been so excited by the prospect of getting to know a man and spending time alone with him.
I’d been hurt before by other men, and though it had taken me years to trust someone again with my heart, I was older now, more mature, and it was time to do so. If I really was going to go forward with my Summer of Resolve, then I had no choice but to break down the walls that had held me back for years, forget about all of my fears when it came to men, and hope beyond hope that the rubble from those walls didn’t overcome me in the process.
* * *
I was on the sidewalk waiting for Brock when he emerged from the building. And when he saw me, his smile was so wide and genuine, it lifted me up.
“Can I take your hand?” he asked me.
“Maybe after a couple of blocks . . . ?”
“Still concerned about Blackwell, I see.”
“Maybe a bit.”
“Then I’ll respect that, but just so you know, Madison, it’s killing me not to be able to take your hand and kiss you right now.”
It’s difficult for me, too. But if I told you that, God only knows what would happen between us. We’d probably be cited for public indecency.
With his arm touching my shoulder, we started to walk up Fifth, which was teeming with people—some of them tourists, others just out of work and in a hurry to get somewhere else. It was still warm outside, but at least there was a breeze, which picked up my hair and felt refreshing against my neck.
“How was your day?” I asked.
“Let’s just say that it didn’t end as well as I would have liked.”
“What do you mean?”
“Alex called me out of the blue, and asked to see my report early. I told him that it wasn’t ready to be seen, but he still insisted upon seeing it. Since I had no choice, I showed it to him, and he pretty much shit-canned it. Not all of it—there was some parts that he responded to—but he pretty much put me on no
tice that I needed to step up my game if I was going to go into acquisitions at Wenn.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“The good news is that I now have a stronger feeling for what he’s looking for, and I already know that I can fix it.”
“I’m still happy to look at it whenever you want.”
“I appreciate that. And trust me, I’ll take you up on that.”
“It would be my pleasure. And trust me when I say that I’m craving to do something that’s business-related. I didn’t move to this city to be a personal assistant, but that’s nevertheless all the work I’ve managed to find since coming here. Believe me, getting my hands on a document like the one you’re working on and sharing ideas with you wouldn’t only be fun—it also would be a relief.”
“You’re so different, Madison,” he said. “And I mean that in the best way possible.”
I looked up at him. “Different from what?”
“From most of the women I’ve known. You’re beautiful. You’re smart. And you’re a fighter. I think that’s the thing I respond to most about you. You’ve got this fire in your gut that mirrors mine—I see it every time Blackwell challenges you, and I sit in my office cheering you on because I know how hard she can be on people. I don’t think you’re aware of it, but when she pushes you, this sense of determination comes over your face and you become kind of like a lioness, like you’re determined to prove her wrong no matter what it takes. You came to Wenn to win, just like I did, which isn’t just sexy as hell to me, but also speaks volumes about who you are as a person. We may have only known each other for a week, but you’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I can’t tell you how happy I am that we’ve met.”
He brushed his hand against mine.
“Can I hold your hand now?” he asked. “We’re a good four blocks away from Wenn at this point, and I really don’t want to wait much longer. I’ve already waited all day for this.”
“All right,” I said.
When he took my hand in his, I felt that same jolt of excitement again—that undeniable stirring of desire that whirled within my soul and made me feel inexplicably lightheaded. I wondered if Brock also felt it. When he intertwined his fingers with mine, I had to believe that he did, especially when he squeezed my hand in such a way that felt meaningful and protective to me. As if this is how it should be between us. Hell, as if this had been this way between us for years. That made little sense to me, but it was nevertheless how it felt. And it was real.
And what am I to make of that?
* * *
When we moved past the Plaza Hotel and entered the Park, we started to stroll down one of the paved walkways in silence until we came upon an empty green bench.
“Would you like to sit down?” he asked. “You’re in heels. I wasn’t thinking about that when I suggested that we take a walk. And you’ve been in them all day.” He squeezed my hand harder and said in a disarmingly sexy voice, “You know, if you’d like, I could rub your feet for you.”
“I’m totally taking you up on that,” I said.
He laughed when I said that and motioned toward the empty bench. “Well, then have a seat. I’d be happy to oblige.”
“You should know that I’m ticklish,” I said as we sat down.
“Noted. Now kick off your shoes and put one of your feet in my lap.”
And then it struck me.
“But what if my feet stink?” I said. “I’ve been in these heels since the morning.”
“I seriously doubt that your feet stink.”
“I was all over Wenn in these shoes today. My feet are so going to smell like a sewer. I know it.”
He cocked his head at me. “May I just have one of your feet please.”
Oh, please, God—if you can hear me right now, don’t let my feet stink. Not now, not at this moment. Please! I’m begging you!
“Here goes nothing,” I said as I removed my right shoe and wiggled my toes in an effort to get some air around them so that they could breathe and hopefully smell less offensive than they might have otherwise.
Brock watched me for a moment, and then he just shook his head at me—and took charge. He lifted my leg onto his lap, horrified me when he dipped his nose toward my foot, and then breathed in my scent before he kissed the tips of my toes.
“Just as I expected,” he said. “They smell feminine. Just like you.”
“You mean when I’m not a lioness?”
“What can I say?” he said as he gently began kneading my foot with his hands. “I like the lioness in you. And all of the other facets that make you who you are.”
“And yet we don’t really know each other yet, do we?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “For some reason that I can’t put into words, I feel as if I’ve known you longer than a week. Years longer. A week doesn’t even make sense to me at this point. Since we first met, I’ve struggled to think why that is. But I’ve since decided to just give up wondering why and to go with what’s in my heart. To accept what this might be between us. And to hope that it only goes deeper than either of us ever could have imagined. I’m hoping that you feel the same way.”
When I didn’t answer, he gave me a concerned look.
“But maybe I just went too far.”
“You didn’t,” I admitted. “Because I feel the same as you. But I don’t want to analyze it, Brock, because doing so would only cheapen it. All I want to do now is just enjoy it and accept it as something special that should be treated with honesty and respect. Despite the fear of God that Blackwell put in me earlier in the week when she ‘sensed a change in the air’ the moment we met, I decided that when you kissed me this morning that I have to see where this goes. Because there was something in that kiss that I can’t deny. When you touch me, something takes hold of me that’s electrifying. How can I ignore that? I’m fully aware that all of this might go nowhere between us—and I’m prepared to accept that, to walk away as friends if either of us decides that this won’t work out. But to be fair to both of us, I need to smash down the barriers Blackwell has tried to build between us and see for myself what comes of this. I’m being paid to do a job for her, which I do to the best of my ability. But after yesterday at Gordon’s and our little break-room rendezvous this morning, which nearly sent me to the moon and back, I decided that I can’t let her interfere with this any longer. No job is worth the sacrifice of my personal life. Today I came to terms with that. I also have to trust a man again, and I think that you’re worth the risk.” I looked into his eyes, and I felt absolutely naked to him. “And there you have it,” I said. “The truth.”
“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since we first met,” he said. “I can’t focus. My paper for Alex was shit because my thoughts have been consumed by you. By the possibilities of you. I see you sitting across from me, and I just want to be with you—and by that, I mean intimate with you. And not just in a sexual way. That’s what has really fucked me up because it’s so much deeper than that. Am I attracted to you? Hell yes. But that attraction is multifaceted in ways that I’ve already told you. I’ll say it again—I’ve never met anyone like you. But I’m no fool. I know that this doesn’t happen often, so I need to pay attention to it now.”
“But not at the cost of your job,” I said.
“Now that we’ve come clean with each other about how we feel, the anxiety I’ve felt when it comes to you will fade away, and the focus will return.”
“Anxiety?”
“I never thought that a woman like you would be interested in a man like me, especially after Blackwell told you about my past. I don’t know how much she told you, but if you’d like to hear it from me, I’m happy to explain.”
“All right.”
“I modeled to pay my way through my undergrad years, and in that world, as you can imagine, there were plenty of women who wanted a one-night stand. Because I was a successful model, there was a time when my family thought that I was going to give up my educ
ation and model professionally. But where would that have gotten me when I turned forty? Fifty? Jesus, did they think that I was that stupid? Blackwell is correct—when I was modeling, I was happily sowing my wild oats at the age of twenty. But that was years ago. That’s the Brock Wenn that Blackwell and too many others can’t get out of their heads. All of them think I’m that same person today. But they’re wrong about me. I’m not that person anymore, but since Blackwell is nothing if not an authoritative figure, I feared that when she said that I was a womanizer, you might believe her. And why wouldn’t you? It came from your boss’s mouth. Still, it’s been driving me crazy this past week because I can promise you this—that woman never knew that I told my father to take his money and shove it up his ass when I got into Wharton. I knew that when I did that, he’d shut me down financially—which he did—and that I’d have to make it at Wharton on my own, with student-loan debts that are crushing me today. But whatever. I got through it. I graduated. And I’m happy to no longer be under his control. Because of all that, I had to grow up. So here’s what it comes down to for me, Madison—I don’t want to get to the end of my days without saying that I was amazed. And you amaze me. And if you want to know the real truth right now? I’ll give it to you.”
“What real truth?” I said, trembling as he rubbed my foot.
“I want to make love to you,” he said. “Now. And I hope that you want the same, because not being with you is driving me mad. But I will respect your decision if you don’t want to go forward with that because it has, in fact, only been a week. I’m willing to wait. I just wanted you to know. . . .”
Ignite Me (The Annihilate Me Series) Page 15