by Julie Wetzel
Darien smiled warmly at her. “You’re quite welcome, Miss Westernly. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Vicky closed the door and found her way into her apartment before Darien pulled back out onto the street. Dropping her bag in its customary spot on the couch, she kicked off her shoes and headed into the kitchen to drop a package of ramen noodles in a pot. If she overcooked them a little, they would be soft enough to get down without hurting her already-tender throat.
Darien studied the silken scarf wrapped around Vicky’s neck. It was soft and flowing, and it accented her outfit quite nicely, but that wasn’t the reason his assistant was wearing it. The scarf didn’t quite cover all the bruising, but it was just the right color to make one question if the purpling seen around the edges was on the skin or part of the scarf.
“Good morning, Miss Westernly. How are you feeling today?”
Vicky raised a hand unconsciously to her throat before answering. “Much better. Thank you, Mr. Ritter.” Dropping her hand, she fished into the plastic bag she was carrying. “I brought you something for taking care of me yesterday.”
Darien cocked a curious eyebrow as Vicky pulled out a small, wooden crate and sat it gently on his desk. He laughed at the box of clementines. “You really didn’t have to do that.” Darien looked up at her with a warm expression.
“I know, but I wanted to.” Vicky looked down shyly at the corner of the desk as she spoke. When he didn’t respond, she glanced up find him staring at her. The intensity she found there made her cheeks warm.
“Thank you.”
Vicky nodded in response. Darien’s voice had taken on a more tangible quality than normal. Her blush deepened as his voice caressed her insides. Slipping back into professional mode, she said, “If there’s nothing else at the moment, I’m going to run down to the café and get some coffee before hitting that paperwork. Would you like something?”
A grin curled one side of Darien’s mouth. “No, but thank you.”
Vicky nodded again and disappeared through the door.
Shaking his head, Darien considered the girl. It had been a long time since anyone surprised him as much as she did. He marveled at the graceful way she kept up with his hectic life while dealing with the more unpredictable bit of his nature.
Darien hadn’t been sure what Vicky’s mental state would be when she came in this morning. He had been prepared to deal with an emotional wreck, but she didn’t seem shaken by the werewolf’s attack at all. It would probably be a good idea to watch her for the next few days to make sure she wasn’t in some state of shock. Nothing like that had happened in the three years Marianna had worked for him, but he was sure Vicky’s predecessor would have quit over being nearly killed.
Pulling the wooden box towards him, Darien tugged the plastic mesh off, freeing the little oranges. He picked one up and rubbed his thumb across its skin as he pondered his new assistant. How much of his world could she handle before she ran away screaming? Pushing the thought away, Darien vowed he would do his best not to let it near her again. Vicky was much too innocent to deal with the world of the night.
***
“What’s wrong?”
Sue’s question pulled Vicky from her thoughts. She had zoned out while waiting for the young woman to finish making her drink.
Sue set the hot coffee on the counter and smiled encouragingly at her customer.
Vicky pursed her lips as she debated telling the barista about her issues. She didn’t dare tell her normal friends about her recent attack. Vanessa would have her suing someone. Finally, she asked, “Have you ever been truly terrified for your life?”
Sue’s eyes slipped to the scarf, and she smiled understandingly. “Yes,” she admitted.
A puzzled look crossed Vicky’s face as she thought about this answer for a second. “How do you cope with it?” She raised her hand to the scarf to make sure it hadn’t slipped.
Sue gave her a worried look. “Did something happen with Mr. Ritter?”
Vicky was startled by the question. “No, not with Mr. Ritter.” She shook her head. “There was an… incident with someone who came to visit him yesterday.”
Sue’s eyes widened a little as Vicky spoke.
“I’ve been reliving the experience in my mind all night, and it really has me freaked out. Sure, you hear about people getting hurt every day in the news, but you never imagine it could happen to you. I was almost afraid to get out of bed this morning.”
“I can understand how that could shake your world a bit.” Sue sighed, pulling a large, chocolate chip cookie from the case and placing it on the counter with Vicky’s coffee. “There are two things you can do. Either you can let them win and go through life in a constant state of fear, or you can use it to become stronger. Yes, there are violent people out there, but there are also a lot of good people. If you shut yourself up to avoid one, you miss out on the opportunity to meet the other.”
Vicky smiled weakly as she mulled over Sue’s words. “Thank you.” She picked up the coffee and cookie. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
“Anything I can do to help.” Sue waved Vicky off and turned back to tend to her coffee machines.
As Vicky headed back to her office, she took a bite from the cookie and found that it was still slightly warm. She smiled, licking the sweetness from her lips. Nothing sets the world right like slightly melted chocolate from a fresh-baked cookie.
“We’ll need to leave in about ten minutes.”
Darien looked up from his desk to acknowledge the words of his assistant. He was glad to see her throat had finally healed enough for her to stop wearing those damn scarves. She had several that she coordinated with her outfits, but it was clear that they bothered her. A week and a half of her incessantly fidgeting with the scraps of material was almost more than Darien could stand.
He slipped the folder of notes into his desk drawer and stood up to look at his reflection in the rain-spattered glass. Today’s weather was not the best for his weekly visit with Mr. Rodgers, but he needed to pick up the progress reports from his car-loving associate. He had already pushed their normal, Thursday-morning meeting to Friday afternoon. “Is everything ready?” Darien turned to look at Vicky waiting for him by the door.
“I’ve already called down to Charlie to make sure the car is ready,” she answered, “and Gracie Ann from Cacophony called to cancel her appointment this afternoon, so we don’t have to rush. Seems the roof of her building sprung a leak, and she has everyone moving the instruments around so they won’t get wet.”
Darien’s brow creased as he worried about the little music store he had started backing. Ritter Enterprises had begun as a shipping corporation, but Darien loved to dabble in small businesses that were unable to get financial assistance by normal means. Even though her credit was abysmal, Gracie Ann had pleaded such a strong case that he just couldn’t say no. Once it was established, he had been very pleased with the way she ran the shop. But something like this could really cause her problems.
“Has she called someone yet?” Darien asked.
“Already taken care of,” Vicky informed him with a smile. “I called Rick’s Roofing. He’ll look at it tomorrow when the rain has stopped.”
Darien snickered. Of course Vicky would ask another one of his small businesses to deal with Gracie Ann’s problem. “Very nice. Now, let’s go see what Charlie’s picked for us today.” Darien led the way out of the office.
Vicky paused long enough to grab up her messenger bag as she passed her desk.
He glanced at the stack of files next to Vicky’s desk as he passed. It didn’t look any smaller than it did on the day she had placed it there. “How is your project coming?” Darien asked, pushing the button to call the elevator.
“Pretty good, actually,” she informed him. “It should only take about a day or two of steady work to enter the rest of the information.” She gave a small sigh as they entered the elevator and Darien sent it to the underground basement. “I w
as hoping to have it finished by today, but it took me longer than I anticipated.” Vicky’s hand moved to her throat as she recalled the reason she was behind.
Over the days following the incident, Darien had watched as Vicky dealt with the feelings left from Rupert’s heavy-handed treatment. At first, he had been worried. More than once, he caught her playing with her scarf while staring off into space. Evidently, she had come to some kind of terms with it. She seemed back to her normal self again.
Darien let Vicky lead the way to the guardhouse, where Charlie was waiting. She had learned that the old man was less of a guard and more of a caretaker to Darien’s extensive car collection. Charlie did all the upkeep and maintenance needed to keep the machines purring the way they should.
“Whatcha’ got for us today?” Vicky asked, bouncing as she waited for the old man to give up the keys to the car they were going to take. She wasn’t really a car nut, but there was something about the classic ones that got her a little excited.
Charlie greeted her with a wide grin. “I’ve something special for you, today.” He held up a key on a worn, leather fob. “A 1970 Ford Torino Fastback.”
Vicky giggled with delight and reached for the key, but Darien was just a hair faster and closed his hand around the bit of metal before his assistant could.
“I want this one.”
Vicky dropped her hand and grinned at her boss. She knew this was going to happen as soon as Charlie had said what today’s transportation would be. Darien would often let her drive the cruising cars, but he usually wanted to drive the muscle cars himself.
“Bay 632.” Charlie released the leather fob and pointed down into the garage. “It’s raining, so be careful with her.”
Darien stuck his finger through the key ring and twirled the key as he headed down the garage.
“Of course we will,” Vicky reassured the man, hurrying to follow Darien before he left without her. She loved the days when they went to visit Mr. Rodgers. The car nut that ran the shipping hub on the north side of town almost always had positive news, and that put her boss in an especially good mood. Except for occasional bits of randomness, Darien was very professional, but Vicky suspected that hidden inside that polished exterior was an excitable and lighthearted person. These were the days the fun-loving guy poked his head out a little.
Sliding into the maroon bucket seats of the red muscle car, Vicky tucked her bag onto the floorboard by her feet. She watched a smile split her boss’s face as he turned the key and the well-tuned V8 roared to life. The music that issued from the speakers was an older tune. Charlie always preset the radio to something just right for that car. The look on Darien’s face when he drove one of these classics reminded Vicky of a kid set loose in a candy store. The joy radiating from him was infectious.
Vicky giggled a little as Darien pressed down on the gas and the car growled in delight at being let out of its little cage. She waved to the thoughtful caretaker as they passed on their way out into the rain-soaked world. Vicky settled in for the forty-minute ride to the north side of town.
***
Darien listened to Vicky humming along with the song on the radio as they pulled into the bay of the shipping company. The drive over had been more taxing then normal due to the heavy rain and stupid people unable to drive in it. There had been a rather large accident on the highway, which had slowed their progress down. Vicky had called ahead to let Mr. Rodgers know they were going to be late, but it had taken over two hours to get past the mangled cars blocking up the roadway.
Stepping out of the car, Darien stretched the fatigue from his limbs.
“I’m glad to see you made it all right.”
He turned towards the short, stout, middle-aged man coming to greet him.
“That is fantastic.” Mr. Rodgers looked over the sleek lines of the car.
“Thank you.” Darien shook the man’s outstretched hand before turning his attention to the car.
Vicky stepped out of the car to join the boys. She exchanged pleasantries with the head of the shipping hub before the men got lost in the details of the machine in front of them.
“Let me guess…” Mr. Rodgers almost bounced as Darien opened the flat, black hood to show off the heart of the car. “1970 Ford Torino Cobra Fastback! Ooh… you have the 429 SCJ V8 in it!”
Vicky smiled at the two overgrown kids. She caught a few words she recognized, like ‘Holly’ and ‘Detroit Locker’, but she had no idea how those things applied to a carburetor or rear differential. She left the two prattling on about the benefits of ‘ram air induction’ and ‘shaker hoods’ and went to gather the information that Darien had made the trip for.
“Good evening, Vicky,” Mr. Rodgers’ secretary greeted her as she stepped into the main office. “How was the ride over?”
“Hey, Mary. It was horrible,” Vicky confessed. “There was an accident that had traffic completely stopped for nearly an hour. What do you have for us today?” She pulled out a chair, so they could get things done. Vicky and Mary had gotten into the habit of holding the meeting their bosses were supposed to have, while the men chatted over whatever toy Darien had brought over to show off.
“Nothing much,” Mary admitted as she slid the files over for Vicky to look at. “The numbers all look good this week.”
Vicky flipped open the folders to check the stats.
“We did finally get a permanent driver to take the eastern run.”
“That’s good.” Vicky nodded at the progress.
“You’re telling me. I was getting tired of listening to Mr. Rodgers grumble about the temps we were being sent.” Mary pushed her glasses up and rubbed the spot between her eyebrows. “Another week of that, and I was going to start driving the truck just to shut him up.”
Vicky grinned at the idea of the petite brunette behind the wheel of an eighteen-wheeler. “I’m glad you didn’t have to. I would miss our weekly chats.”
“Not as much as they would,” Mary nodded her head towards the men outside. “If we weren’t here to take care of business, they wouldn’t have time to talk about their cars.”
Vicky agreed, and the two women went over the things that had happened during the week. Mr. Rodgers would tell Darien anything important during the time they chatted, but they would leave the fine details up to the girls. When Vicky and Mary finished, Vicky folded up the file and slipped it into her bag. “Want to walk to the break room with me? I need to get something to drink.” Standing up, Vicky pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder.
Mary agreed, and the two women chatted about their lives outside of work as they walked to the vending machines. Vicky picked up tea for herself and water for Darien, and they were on their way back to the shipping bay when music came from Vicky’s bag. Mary’s words failed at the eerie song.
Vicky fished the cell phone Darien had given her from her bag. “Hello?” Vicky answered, expecting to get Darien wondering where they were.
There was a long pause before an unfamiliar voice spoke. “May I please speak with Master Darien?” the thick, warm, male voice asked.
Vicky slipped into her professional voice. “Mr. Ritter is in a meeting at the moment. May I take a message and have him call you back?” She quickly pulled her notepad out, so she could jot down a message or number.
There was another long pause before the man answered her. “Tell him we’ll be gathered at sunset, awaiting his arrival.” The line clicked dead without giving Vicky a chance to ask anything.
Who was gathered? Where? She stared at the silent phone before folding it up and slipping it back into her bag. The caller ID didn’t show a name or number, just ‘Private’. She hoped Darien would understand the cryptic message.
“Everything okay?” Mary asked as they started back towards the shipping bay.
Vicky nodded. “Apparently, someone wants to see Mr. Ritter tonight.” She frowned a little. “The guy wasn’t very clear.”
Mary patted Vicky on the shoulder. “I get those fo
r Mr. Rodgers from time to time,” Mary opened the door to the shipping bay and held it for her guest. “He always seems to know what they’re about.”
Vicky stepped out and nodded. She didn’t go into the fact that the call had come in on the strange phone Darien had given her. As far as she knew, her boss was the only person who knew that number.
The two women found their bosses still going on about the muscle car.
“And, it’ll do a quarter mile in 13.99 seconds at 101.” Darien’s boasting earned him a long whistle from his friend.
“Pardon the intrusion,” Vicky slipped into pause in their conversation. “I just got a call for you, Mr. Ritter. Do you have a meeting set up for this evening?”
Darien gave her a confused look. “Not that I’m aware of.” He pondered who could have called his assistant. “Who was it?”
“I have no idea,” Vicky shook her head. “He just said they’d be waiting for you after sunset.”
A strange look crossed Darien’s face, and he pulled his phone from his pocket to find that the battery was dead. “Pardon me, Mr. Rodgers. It seems I’ve forgotten something this evening.” Darien shut the hood of the car.
“Then don’t let me keep you.” Turning to Mary, Mr. Rogers asked, “Did Miss Westernly get everything she needed?”
Mary nodded.
Vicky said goodbye and got into the car. Whatever Darien had forgotten seemed pressing. Her boss bid his farewell and climbed into the car. It took no time for them to get back out into the rain and zooming down the highway.
“I’m sorry, Miss Westernly,” Darien apologized very seriously. “I wasn’t expecting this today. It’s quite a drive to where I need to be tonight, and I don’t have time to take you back to the office.”
Vicky wasn’t sure what was going on, but she had never seen him so tense.
“I’m going to head straight out there and let you drive back by yourself.”
“That’s fine with me, but how will you get back?”