by JC Szot
Steve’s brow wrinkled. “What can I possibly do?” Steve asked. His arms hung loosely at his sides, his expression lost.
“Get in the damn car so we can get the hell out of here and I’ll tell you,” Drake told him, tilting his head toward the car.
* * * *
Nine months later
“So I take it you’ve got lots of appointments scheduled already?” Drake asked, looking around the spacious spa.
“I’m booked solid,” Steve told him, pushing the appointment book to the side.
“My staff is very excited, so you know what that means…” Drake jammed his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels.
“It means you’ll have an environment full of productive employees,” Steve said, his eyes brightening with the thought.
When Drake agreed to relocate Steve with them, he’d asked Steve if he would operate a salon and spa on the ground floor of Larson Strategies. Drake thought it would be a great asset to the company, a place where his employees could go and be pampered, relax, and rejuvenate with a hot latte.
The salon was spacious, furnished with the latest, modernized equipment. There were eight stations and six sinks. Steve had hired three outside stylists and a receptionist. They were still in the process of buttoning up the final stages of the construction.
Skylights allowed the sun to pour in, providing natural light, enhancing the soft shades and décor of the salon. Steve had painted the walls the color of desert sand. He’d insisted on doing all the decorating himself, and Drake had given him license to take the reins. Lacquered, pale ivory counters accentuated the pure beauty that Steve couldn’t wait to implement with each employee who came in.
Nina had been charged with arson, setting the house on Blue Mountain ablaze. Drake had been shocked, but hadn’t let it deter him from setting his sights on the future.
The construction on Blue Mountain was almost complete. Drake had made an agreement with Nina’s father. After their attorneys had made their deals, Nina left town, her integrity crumbled.
In the meantime Drake, Kelly, and Steve had made a home at the condo in Cypress Hill. They’d gone down to the Florida Keys over the holidays to meet Drake’s parents. Though they were puzzled over the recent events, his parents embraced Kelly and Steve. His mother in particular seemed to approve of Kelly, which Drake found both surprising and refreshing.
“I’m glad you’re pleased with how everything is looking,” Steve said, nodding. Drake could see that emotional gratitude that often glazed over Steve’s eyes. Drake reached for him, squeezing his shoulder.
“Couldn’t do it without you.” Drake smiled.
The door opened. The sound of Kelly’s heels clanked on the gleaming tiles.
Drake never tired of feasting on her. Though the woman could look hot in a pair of jeans and a torn sweatshirt (which was how he fell in love with her), today, in a more polished version, she was just as lovely. Her inner beauty and grace could carry her, no matter what attire decorated her outside.
“Hi there.” Drake leaned in for a kiss. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I was just at the furniture store. I told them what you wanted ordered for the house. They said it was on backorder, but I told them we’ve got time,” Kelly said.
“How’s the enrollment going for the training classes?” Drake asked. Kelly’s eyes widened at his inquiry.
“We’ve got a full house. Colleen and I are swamped.”
“Good, then that means it’ll be a success.”
At Kelly’s suggestion, Larson Strategies had started a training program. She and Colleen were hiring recruits and providing training as well as job placement. The program was geared toward displaced woman in the work force and single parents.
“I hope so,” Kelly said hesitantly.
“I have no doubts in you. I never have…not since you fixed my car,” Drake told her, leaning in for a quick kiss.
“God, it looks great in here,” Kelly said, changing the subject. She gave Steve an approving look.
“It sure does,” Drake agreed. “Steve, would you like to join us for lunch later?” Drake asked.
Steve raked strands of hair out of his eyes. “Nah, I’ve got a delivery coming. I want to get those cabinets installed over the sinks today. Thank you, though,” he added quickly, his explanation hurried.
Steve’s cheeks flushed. Drake chuckled, knowing Steve was like a kid in a candy store, ogling over all his goodies. Steve now had a sense of purpose, and that’s what rocked Drake’s world. Helping people help themselves: the reward was priceless.
“My pleasure. And how about you?” Drake asked Kelly, placing his hand on the small of Kelly’s back.
“Sure.” Kelly’s head tipped, giving him her glowing smile. Drake’s eyes fell down the neckline of her dress, her luscious cleavage distracting.
“Are you coming up with me? I need to give Colleen my schedule before we go,” Drake informed her.
* * * *
Kelly stared out the window of Drake’s office. People moved along the sidewalk below as if gliding across the concrete. It was all so different now, her life and the world that surrounded her. Though she knew the world she once lived in was right across town, it was haunting that the two coexisted side by side. Her homeless heart had found a home, one she would reside in forever with a man of excellence.
The training program project with Colleen gave Kelly a renewed sense of purpose. It was a mission, just as Steve had his downstairs in the salon. They were all striving together in order to achieve certain goals and all under the same umbrella.
Drake entered the office, blinding her with his polished, urban looks. His body blanketed hers from behind, his hands provoking that arousing journey that Kelly always had the stamina to take. She turned in his arms. His hands slid over her buttocks, slowly lifting her dress. Ten fingers and two palms caressed, his touch a healthy and therapeutic addiction.
“These garters drive me wild.” Drake growled, cupping her ass, squeezing her flesh as his hips rolled over hers. That swirling tingle he could ignite on the turn of a dime started to expand between her thighs.
“I know,” Kelly whispered, her lips curling into a wicked grin. She smoothed her hand over Drake’s housed cock, his slacks tenting. “That’s the whole point.”
His fingers danced over her belly, dipping down into her panties. “Jesus,” he groaned. “I can always count on you being wet, and so warm.” His fingers slid through her folds, petting her clitoris with that slow and tender technique that was guaranteed to make her legs fold beneath her.
“I like this…getting a little before lunch.” Drake smiled against her skin, lifting her dress higher.
“I bet you do,” Kelly breathed. Drake pulled back, his touch slowing.
“Well, that’s why they call it Larson Strategies.” He grinned
“Well, aren’t you clever?” Kelly unzipped his slacks, diving into his heat.
“I thought so.” Drake shrugged, his lips taking hers.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JC Szot was born in Morristown, New Jersey, and grew up in the quiet town of Long Valley, New Jersey. She now lives in Upper Mount Bethel, Pennsylvania, where her imagination and real life collide on a daily basis.
For all titles by JC Szot, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/jc-szot
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com