A Promise Made (Promise #2)

by Anissa Garcia

  “Plus more,” he interrupted. “I know you, and you’re wearing yourself out, you know. You’re not only doing your job, but you’re taking on a lot of Cameron’s work. Ana and I can tell. Some of us in the team are a bit concerned. Have you eaten anything today?”

  The fact that the team was fretful annoyed me. I didn’t need anyone else bugging me about the hours I kept or my health, so I overlooked his question. “I can’t find that Anderson email and it’s driving me nuts.”

  “Marla,” the voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard made me turn toward the door. There stood Cameron in his suit and tie, trying to look slick and handsome, but I only really wanted to hit him in the square jaw. His dark eyes honed in on me like a hawk catching his prey. “You have a visitor.”

  My heart started beating as Josh stood in the doorway behind Cameron, looking refreshed and spectacularly handsome. He waited for Cameron to move aside, but blocked the door instead. Josh skirted through and they eyed each other up and down, much the way Holden and Cameron had, but this was different. Where I felt Holden being protective in a brotherly way, Josh was fiercely possessive. This gave me chills that ran through my bones.

  He stepped in, looking magnificent as ever in his jeans and red plaid button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. A bag in his hands caught my eye as he walked over, his voice smooth as he smiled. “Hello, love. Thought you’d like some lunch.”

  Why did it seem like he was trying to rescue me? I didn’t need to be saved. “Thank you for that, Josh, but I have a lot going on today.”

  He disregarded the remark and put the bag on the desk, glancing over to Holden, who stood up. Holden was taller than Josh, his muscle mass about the same; however, I knew Josh could take him out with his training abilities alone. I guess I should be polite and introduce them.

  “Holden, meet Josh. Josh, that’s Holden. Now if you both don’t mind, I have a shitload of work to do and not a lot of time to do it in, so both of you can go and eat lunch together.” I continued my search through my emails.

  Holden shook Josh’s hand. I’m sure his curiosity at this point was reeling and he’d ask me about Josh later. “You guys are friends?” Or now.

  “He’s my friend Grace’s boyfriend’s friend.”

  “I’m her friend,” Josh replied dryly.

  “No, you’re not,” I replied, then looked up at Holden who had a cheeky grin on his face. “He’s not.”

  Cameron intentionally cleared his throat, reminding us that he was present. “Personal visits need to be kept short, Marla. And I expect a response to be sent out on the Anderson case by two o’clock.”

  “Will do,” I replied.

  “I don’t mean to cause you any trouble, babe, but you didn’t eat breakfast, and I know you’ve got to be hungry,” Josh stated, opening up the bag he had set down and pulling out plastic containers and setting them on the desk.

  “I had coffee and a muffin. I’m fine.” I knew that wasn’t going to pass, as the pastry sat untouched on the other side of my computer.

  Holden nodded. “Marla, you need to eat. I’ll let you get to it, and then we’ll work on that email later.” He nodded to Josh with a friendly manner. “Nice to meet you, man.” Josh nodded in response.

  Why was I surrounded by so much testosterone? And why did they care that I hadn’t eaten? It really was beginning to dawn on me that perhaps I wasn’t looking my best. I thought guys were into that whole waif look. Holden exited my office and Josh opened the containers to reveal sushi. My favorite.

  “Eat,” Josh demanded, as he pulled up one of the office chairs beside mine and set out two pairs of chopsticks. I frowned at him as he opened a packet of soy sauce and poured it over one of the rolls he placed out. His motions stopped as he shrugged. “This one’s mine.”

  “So what did you get me?” I leaned over and realized how hungry I was when my tummy let out a rumble.

  He smiled openly, knowing he’d done well by coming to feed me. “Rainbow roll and a cucumber salad with crab.” He pointed toward an unopened box and I retrieved it, digging in and feeling content. Different sauces were laid out and he grabbed his chopsticks, going in for his cucumber wrapped roll. Figures. No rice on that one. Then again, no carbs did his body good. He looked and smelled amazing, like mint and man.

  When I had left him in the parking lot of work this morning, I hadn’t even said goodbye. In fact, I hadn’t said a word to him. He stayed still and quiet in return, without a need to speak. Little whimpers and movements could be heard behind us as Hank shifted back and forth, more uncomfortable with the silence than we were. Despite my ridiculous behavior over a pair of shoes, Josh was still here. Did that mean he liked me, or did he just like me? That stupid confession had plagued me all day, yet I was too afraid to ask. Even now as he sat so close to me, our forearms brushed with a slight touch, making me feel like a lovesick schoolgirl.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t eat your omelet today,” I said softly, enjoying the feast before me, yet knowing I was eating humble pie.

  “You were upset, I understand.” Swirls of aquamarine focused on me as he finished chewing. “However, I wasn’t going to let you go on without eating all day. You need your strength, and concentration and energy levels dip when you hit starvation mode.”

  I rolled my eyes and grappled with my chopsticks, fighting to keep the bite between them. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring me green juice, Mr. Protein. Tell me all about metabolism spikes and muscle mass please, because I’m just fascinated.” My attempt at being sassy failed, and I yelped as a piece of my rainbow roll flopped into the vat of soy sauce and drowned. A laugh poured out of Josh’s mouth as I pouted and attempted to claw it out. “It’s your fault,” I cried flippantly. “You wanted it and gave it the eye. I know you did.”

  “If I had wanted it, I’d have taken it,” he said, reaching over with his chopsticks and seizing a piece of my precious sushi. “Like this.” He stuffed it in his mouth and chewed, leaving me to stare at him, my eyes blinking with incredulity.

  “You stole my roll.”

  “I stole a small piece of it. Here,” he placed his in front of me as I scowled.

  “It has no rice. No carbs equals no good.”

  “Just try it, Red.”

  The way he said the nickname he gave me made my stomach jump to my throat, and I suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore. I loved the way he spoke, his voice so tender, yet masculine, bossy, but kind. I had no option but to obey and dipped it in the eel sauce carefully. He observed the way I ate, as if he was looking at a painting, taking in the wonder of it, the mystery and appreciation. It wasn’t disconcerting; it was sexy, and I felt beautiful.

  His voice turned husky as he spoke, “Good?”

  I nodded. “Why aren’t you working?”

  He placed his chopsticks down, and I wondered if he had pretended to eat this only to get me to eat. I had a feeling he would go home and have chicken and vegetables. Or go do five hundred push-ups. Mmm. Now that was something I could watch. “I’m exclusive to Evan, so when he’s not here, I don’t need to work. I take on other clients because I can, and because he doesn’t care if I do. Another trainer is on staff.”

  “Oh.” Wow, so he was his own boss basically. I found that extremely sexy as well. Okay, maybe I was finding everything about him attractive. “What do you do back in L.A. then when Evan doesn’t need you?”

  “I have a private facility where I train other actors that studios send me. I lend out the space to two other trainers who have a few clients, but it’s by referral only.”

  “So it’s like a secret society, like The Skulls or something?” I asked, still munching on the delicious food I had no idea I would be so grateful for. He had brought me exactly what I needed without me realizing how much I needed it. How did he manage that?

  He chuckled, nodding. “I guess so, since nobody knows where it’s located or how to get a hold of me unless through someone I know, it could be seen like a secret society.”r />
  “Sounds like a reality show. Really Big Buff Dudes of Beverly Hills. So mysterious, McKenzie,” I teased with a smile, feeling better than I had in weeks, especially when I made him laugh the way he was. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was getting to know him better, or because of his confession earlier in the day, but it was getting easier to chat with him. Despite that fact, I would never get used to how he made me feel when I looked at him.

  His hand reached over and brushed my bottom lip with the slightest touch sending chills down my spine. “I’ll let you know whatever you want to know, Sullivan,” he whispered.

  Okay, so I was beginning to think he actually liked me, and not just liked me.

  You know that feeling you have when you’re dreaming and in that dream you’re doing a simple task, like climbing up a ladder, or even walking down a sidewalk, and you miss a step and your whole body jolts awake? That’s the feeling I had when Cameron slammed a stack of folders on my desk that afternoon and pulled me from daydreaming about Josh. I couldn’t help it. He brought me lunch, told me my car would be ready later that afternoon, and would take me to dinner after picking me up. I was being taken care of by a monster of a man, and I was letting myself enjoy it.

  “I don’t know if it’s that guy you’re seeing or something else is going on with you, but you need to get your shit together, Marla.”

  Cameron’s voice was cold, as were his eyes that leered on me with a fierceness that stung like frostbite. I shuddered and held my breath as I straightened in my chair and reached for a folder. “What happened?”

  “Anderson is out. Said the ideas were stale, old, and not working.”

  I stood up and jerked the folder open, my heart beginning to pound as I scanned through the paperwork. “No, no, this can’t be.” Panic was starting to well within me, and tears were hitting the surface. I had told Cameron my innovative ideas. He said keeping the tactics used before would keep consumers happy and the numbers on the rise despite my argument that things were changing and needed to be fresh. “I told Simon the other day that we could discuss any idea changes if he wanted to. Why didn’t he come to me?”

  My fumbling hands reached for the phone, but Cameron’s hand slammed over mine. “Don’t call them. It’s too late for that, and we won’t grovel, understand me?”

  “But they have to know—”

  “No, Marla. I don’t want you messing with them, but I will say that you better not let us down on these other accounts. My father isn’t happy, and I’m getting the brunt of his shit, which means you’ll be getting mine.”

  I swallowed as his fingers squeezed mine, the pressure hurting. “I’m so sorry, Cameron,” I stated meagerly. “I’ll do what I can to make this right.”

  “You’d better. Your fuck-ups are costing us, and if you aren’t careful, you may be losing out on that raise you were looking forward to. Ana’s been doing an astounding job lately. She’s definitely one to watch. If you don’t start pulling your weight, being more attentive to what I say, you’ll be wishing you had, and sorry you hadn’t.” A hint of malice escaped his tone as a leer played over his lips and he jerked his hand away.

  Was he threatening me? He had stints of mean streaks, but this was taking the cake. “You’re in for another long night, Sullivan,” he called as he turned and sauntered out of my office.

  My chest heaved as I rushed over to the ladies’ room. The stalls were clear of people, so I stood in front of the mirror, leaned my palms on the sink and tried to steady my breathing. I could handle this. This and everything else would be taken care of—it had to be. I was letting the company down, letting my boss down, and most of all, letting myself down. If more hours needed to be put in, so be it. This company would not fail to be the best.

  The sun had already started to set, the sky looking like cotton candy with hues of oranges, pinks, and blues. Texas did have amazing sunsets, and I wondered when was the last time Marla had gone on a walk and enjoyed the outdoors. She seemed to be working so much lately, it would be a miracle if I got her out of the building. I strolled through the empty parking lot and into the office, noticing the lights off except hers. The first person to arrive this morning, the last to leave, she worked harder than any woman I’d known. It was sexy as hell knowing how determined she was, yet I hoped she soon found the balance between work and play.

  I passed empty cubicles and large board rooms. Humming from vending machines and computers infiltrated the space as I approached her office and peered in. Tension exuded through her body as she hunched over paperwork spread out on her desk. She muttered something under her breath and chewed on her lip as her mind reeled over strategies. She seemed different from when I first met her back in October. The carefree, laidback woman I met back then was now drained, edgy, and scared.

  I knew she was going through a rough patch, and I couldn’t wait to have her feel like herself again. If there was any way I could help bring that about, I’d be glad to do it. I could, at this point, spend my whole life trying to make her feel that way again.

  She had lost weight, and not in a healthy way. Not that I had ever wanted her to lose it in the first place. Her figure was lovely, and I had dreamed one too many times how it would be to feel that soft skin under my callused, coarse hands. Supple, creamy white flesh, round breasts and peaked nipples to perfection with hips I could grasp tight against me were what I fantasized about when thinking of Marla Sullivan. The sizzling redhead with the smartass mouth was the one I had liked the moment I met her, and she was still there, only subdued. I didn’t want subdued, I wanted her whole, happy, and more spirited than ever.

  I approached with my hands in my pockets, a bit curious what her reaction to me would be. I had dressed up tonight, wanting to take her to a nice dinner. Hardly ever one to wear something other than jeans, I bought myself some charcoal trousers and a blue button-down shirt that I cuffed up the sleeves to. The sales woman swore on her life the color would go well with my eyes. I refused to buy the jacket and tie, but I did get the nice shoes.

  “Hello, darling.”

  I hadn’t expected her to jump in fright as she clutched her hand to her chest. “Shit! Josh, what are you doing in here?”

  “The front door was open.”

  Her mouth hung open and she roamed my body, stopping particularly over my chest. Finally, she paid attention. “Um…I, have, uh…” she let out a large sigh as she looked down and scratched her head, “Cameron said he’d lock up as he left. I’m the last one here. Obviously he forgot.”

  “Obviously.” The wanker hadn’t taken the proper precautions to protect a woman who was left alone. The fact that a mugging had taken place recently should have given him more reason to be careful.

  “I’m not ready to leave yet.” She scribbled on a yellow legal pad and licked her pointer finger and flipped to the next page.

  “You texted me that you needed more time, so I waited. It’s seven o’clock.” My voice stayed patient, although I wasn’t quite feeling that way.

  “I lost an account today, and I need to find a way to fix it.”

  “Well, you can figure it out tomorrow because it’ll be here when you get back.”

  “Josh, I can’t just leave. Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

  I tried to maintain my grin as I kept my hands in my pockets. “I gave you an extra two hours. That was enough, sweetheart. It’s time to enjoy your Friday night.”

  “But—”

  “Marla,” my voice turned stern, as my hand sat flat over her paperwork. I wasn’t in the mood for this type of argument from her. She needed to be wined, dined, and deeply kissed tonight, and I was the one to do it. “You’ve been here for almost twelve hours. You’re getting your beautiful arse off of that chair this instant, and you’re going to enjoy a night out with me.”

  Her stressed brown eyes relaxed then brightened, as did the rest of her demeanor. I was honestly surprised she didn’t say something snarky.

  “Is that why you’re dressed like a GQ
model? To take me to dinner?”

  “You like it. And yes.”

  She observed me a moment before nodding. “Fine,” she said, standing and tucking the papers away into her top desk drawer. “But if you take me to Salads-R-Us, I’m punching you in the clavicle.”

  “There she is,” I whispered softly with a smile, leading her out of the office.

  Winflo Osteria on 6th Street had delicious Italian comfort food in a rustic bungalow built in 1922. I had always wanted to eat there, but never got the opportunity until tonight. We sat in an intimate corner of the restaurant, and I felt a nervous flutter build as his eyes roamed over me studying the menu. The waiter approached, greeting us, listing the specials. Before I could speak, Josh ordered a bottle of red wine—Merlot, my preferred choice, then asked if I wanted an appetizer. I declined, needing more time to study the menu, despite staring it over for the past five minutes.

  McKenzie on the brain was bad for my focus, but if I could get whatever I wanted, he’d be just what I’d order. That crisp blue shirt held straining buttons that were just begging to be undone. A thin silver chain sat around his neck and dipped underneath, and I was curious to find out what the end of it held. His slacks glorified every wonderfully muscled inch of him, a belt complimenting every bit of that outfit. This man, whether dressed in workout gear or for a night out was a thing of beauty. So, of course, you understand the reason why I had trouble concentrating on much else. The tension surrounding us was so damn thick it could only be cut with a Ginsu knife.

  Josh stayed hushed, letting his finger graze over his bottom lip until he finally spoke with that seductively soft voice. “There’s only one page on that menu, love.”

  “Shh, I’m thinking about what will taste best, and it all looks amazing.” I kept my gaze on the menu, the distraction of his stunning face becoming a serious issue.

  “I think you already know what you want,” he stated distinctly. “You just like to make me wait.”