by Leanne Davis
He seemed different here. He was a grown-up, powerful-looking business tycoon, and not her friend’s older brother anymore, the person he was until this exact moment. Here he had authority, power and respect. He was totally at ease with the well-dressed people looking at them, and seemed to be surrounded by his personal empire, where people didn’t so much as speak to him without an appointment and screening from an armed guard.
Except, clueless, stupid, misfit Joelle.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was having coffee with your sister actually, and–” Joelle’s voice wandered off. Her gaze was vacant as she stared at the walls. She could feel Nick watching her, as well as the people around them, judging what they saw, no doubt.
Nick walked towards her, gently taking her arm and guiding her towards his office door.
“Why don’t you come into my office?”
“No, you look pretty busy. I shouldn’t have dropped by. I didn’t know.”
“It’s fine. Come in.”
“Mr. Lassiter, you have a client meeting in ten minutes,” Mrs. Richmond reminded him, while staring at Joelle, with surprise in her eyes, but her face purposely blank.
“Push it back,” Nick answered. With that, he opened his door, held it for Joelle and shut it on his astonished secretary’s face.
Nick’s office was magnificent with floor-to-ceiling windows that took up one entire wall, offering a view that overlooked the city, and even included a glimpse of the water. She could see people scurrying around, and in traffic, which looked like dotted confetti from that distance as well as ships in the harbor. The sky filled up the windows with a soft, warm blue. The space was unreasonably large, with one desk on the right, occupying nearly the entire width of his office, and behind it, another desk holding a massive computer with three different flat screens surrounding it. The other end of the office had a couch, chair and coffee table, arranged to promote relaxation and exploit the panoramic view. This office, however, did not suggest relaxing, it seemed to ooze power, money, and status.
Her black boots sank into the pristine, immaculate, beige carpet; carpet that deserved to have only pointy high heels, not black combat boots stomping over it. Nick Lassiter was huge, influential, and important. It took her until that very moment for her thick-skulled brain to get that. Nick seemed to be the guru of some kind of an empire here.
“Sit down. Care for anything to drink? Coffee?”
“Water.” Maybe water would lubricate her vocal chords so she could get some kind of sound past them.
Nick walked over to his private bar and took out a sparkling crystal glass before pouring water from a pitcher stowed in the mini-refrigerator. The pitcher was so clear and prismatic, the sun shone through it in patterns of rainbows. He handed the glass to her as he sat behind his desk. She sat down in one of the leather chairs that were as comfortable as any she’d ever sat in, opposite his desk.
She lifted her eyes to find Nick watching her as she squirmed and took a drink. His eyes, shit! They really were a beautiful, translucent blue that made her pulse skitter, and she dug her fingers into her leg.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” she spoke in a hushed, reverent whisper demonstrating her inability at normal speech.
“Oh? Why’s that?” he asked, his tone quite casual, as he rocked his chair back.
“I had no idea it would be like this. I met with Trina around the corner, and afterwards, I looked up and recognized the street of your business card. I thought–”
He jerked the chair forward, his eyes sharpening suddenly on her face. “You thought what?”
“I’d drop by and see about paying you back. I didn’t expect this. I thought a quick walk past your cubicle or something. Not, well, not this.”
“Is that why you’re so nervous?”
Nervous? She was terrified. Of him. Of this place. Of why she was here.
“Well, your staff seemed to think I might pull a gun on them or something. And your secretary? She thought I was trying to sneak in as a reporter.”
“She’s very protective of my time.”
“Yeah, like a barracuda. Protective of your time? She acted like I was hiding a bomb or something. What exactly do you do here?”
“We consult.”
“Yeah, I see, that’s why you need armed escorts? What do you consult on?”
“Computers.”
“I know I don’t look like the women you work with, but I’m not completely stupid. Obviously, you must do more than just consult on broken computers.”
“I didn’t mean to insult your intelligence,” he said, frowning as he rested his elbows on his massive, wooden desk. Then he continued, “The consulting we do here is kept very quiet.”
“Why?”
“As in top secret.”
She was puzzled. Confused. And very intrigued. What was it Nick did? Who was Nick? And for God sakes, what was she doing here?
He finally smiled and leaned back again in his chair, as if relaxing suddenly. But why? She didn’t know. “You want some idea of the types of things we might consult on?”
She nodded.
“Let’s say a company suspected one of their employees was stealing from them. They’d hire us to look into said employee’s computers, electronics, phones, and more or less, the employee’s entire background. And the secrecy concerns the means with which we do it. We sometimes might not use what are considered the ‘usual channels’ to obtain information. We also work for certain government agencies, investigating people of interest, whom we aren’t exactly always authorized to be investigating.”
“You hack stuff? You’re like a cyber investigator?”
He smiled and shrugged noncommittally. “No, and you’re definitely not stupid.”
“Really? You know how to hack into stuff?”
“I know how to do lots of stuff. So do my key employees. The rest of the staff is administrative primarily to manage the office, the employees and the payroll information.”
Joelle’s mind was spinning. “And you appear to do quite well with your company that no one knows what you do?”
“Yes. Specific services. We’re quiet, discreet, and considered the best in the business.”
“And it’s your own company?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t mention that you were the owner of your company, or that your company’s car mechanics were really your mechanics. You made it seem like you were just some manager who worked in an office.”
He flashed a grin at her. “What was I supposed to do? Offer you my resume? I do work in a office, and mostly with computers.”
She snorted. “You could have said something a little more accurate. Like you run a secret organization that needs armed guards to protect its super-secret spy missions that are only permitted with prior secret government authorization.”
He outright laughed a loud guffaw. She dropped her eyes, but a small smile curved on her lips. He shook his head. “The majority of our clients are simply running generic background checks or doing routine investigations for job applicants.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Except for you. You do all the super-secret hacking, don’t you?”
He pressed his lips together, trying, without much success not to smile in amusement. Yeah, he did that. “It is my company,” he replied with an offhand shrug.
“Again, not the impression you initially gave me of what you do.”
His smile faded, and his eyes cooled. “Why? Does my profession somehow change something between us?”
She was simply miffed he hadn’t told her, or been more up-front with her. If she’d sensed anything like the truth, she wouldn’t have dropped in as though she were visiting a friend at the local supermarket. She would never have wandered into some kind of office that required security clearance to enter.
“Why the high security?”
“Not everyone gets an armed guard called on them,” he replied.
Her brow fu
rrowed and she tapped her finger against her thigh before sighing and said, “Oh. Just me. Because of how I look? I guess that was my first clue I was in the wrong place.”
“So you’ve said. And you got security called on you simply because you weren’t recognized, and you asked for me. It wasn’t because of you, or how you appear. I’ll leave word next time, and you can waltz in as if you own the place.”
“I won’t come back. I really shouldn’t have come here now.”
“So you keep saying, why not?”
“Your sister–”
He sighed, and leaned forward, his elbows on his desk. His chair squeaked ever so slightly. “She wasn’t exactly nice to you.”
“You talked to her?” Trina already reported their meeting to her busy brother? Joelle started to get up and collect her bag. “I should go. I didn’t know you’d already heard from Trina. I wasn’t here to talk about that, or her opinion of me. I just wanted to see about paying you back. I’m sorry for coming, and for interrupting whatever secret spy stuff you were doing.”
“Joelle, stop,” Nick said in a calm, reasonable tone. “Sit back down. My sister is pretty impressed with herself right now. You don’t have anything to apologize to me for. Sounds to me like Trina owes you an apology.”
Joelle paused, and ended up in an eye lock with Nick. Unsure what to do, she sat back down, but their gazes remain locked. “No, she shouldn’t apologize. I erroneously assumed you would have told Trina what I was like now, and she’d be prepared for me. I was a shock to her, that’s all. Look, I got the total from the mechanic for my car. It needs a lot of work. I know you put it on your corporate accounts, but isn’t that illegal or something?”
“No, I put it on my personal account.”
“Oh. Well, I have a little money that I can give you right away. I pawned my mom’s wedding ring. It’s not like she needs it. Anyway, if I could just get your address, I could mail you a check each week until I pay it off.”
He frowned and shook his head. “You didn’t have to sell your mom’s ring. I told you there was no hurry.”
“Yes, I did. I want it over as soon as possible. I know how pathetic I must seem.”
He reclined in his chair again, as he stared at her. “You seemed to be in trouble. There’s a difference.”
“I do. I do seem pathetic. Believe me, I am well aware of how I appear. But thank you, for helping me the other night.”
“I told you, it’s not that big of a deal. You seem like you already have plenty to stress you out. So just take this money, and check me off your list. Consider it a gift, and you can repay it whenever you can afford to.”
She didn’t know what to say. Why was he being so kind to her? Finally, she gratefully nodded her acceptance. What else could she do? She certainly didn’t have the money.
“I didn’t plan on coming to see you,” she explained. “But it just seemed like I needed to reassure you, I don’t know, let you know how much it meant to me. That I didn’t take it lightly.”
“The last thing I would expect you to do is take things lightly. You’ve never been one take anything lightly, even as a teenager.” What did that mean? She couldn’t bear to keep eye contact with him any longer. It made her skin flash from hot to cold and left her stomach churning with nerves.
“I also thought–”
“Thought what?”
“That maybe you might suspect I was pulling a scam on you.”
“Like your mother?” His voice was low and kind. He knew her family’s history. “No, I didn’t think that.”
“Why not? Why didn’t you think that?”
“Because you didn’t expect for us to meet up again, nor could you have known I’d be passing by the church again that night, now, could you? Quit worrying so much about it. I’m not.”
The words sounded so soothing, and simple to follow. Yet, it felt like so much more to her. Too much. Why was that? Was it because they were being spoken to her by someone who shouldn’t be so kind to her? Or so soothing to her? Rob said things like that to her, but she couldn’t believe him. He didn’t know or care what she worried about, or even understand the kinds of things she fretted over.
“Thank you,” she said quietly as she got up. She flipped her coat off, suddenly feeling too hot in her strange reaction to Nick.
“What is that?”
“What’s what?” Joelle asked, looking down as she followed Nick’s gaze.
“On your arm?”
“Oh. Our initials. My husband’s and mine.” She held out her wrist.
“Like wedding rings?”
She laughed. “Like we couldn’t afford much in the way of weddings rings, so we did this to start.”
“Huh. Very permanent.”
“That was the idea. Being married and all.”
Nick got up and walked with her towards the door to his office. Was he going to call her escort back to make sure she left properly secured? But no, he merely opened the door politely for her. She started through, then turned at the last second and said, “The other day, why did you say I could call you if I needed anything?”
“Because you can.”
She stared at the toe of her boot before she looked up at him. “But why? Why would you say that to me? I’m a stranger. A nothing.”
“You’re not a nothing.” His tone was so quiet and gentle, it made goose bumps break out over her skin. It was as if he just caressed her, not merely spoken to her.
“Well, to you, I am.”
His gazed scanned her face. He ran a hand through his faint, barely-there beard. It was sexy as hell. She was surprised he’d let his scruff go for a few days. He seemed the type to always be clean-shaven and perfect. She forced herself to look down, away from him and thoughts about his sexy, barely-there beard. She didn’t go for guys with beards… so seriously, what was wrong with her?
“Joelle, did you think that I was using that to come on to you? Is that what has you so worked up?
“No. No of course not, I just wondered.”
“If I were coming on to you, trust me, you wouldn’t have to ask me if I were.”
She swallowed, what could she say to that? Of course, he wouldn’t be coming onto her. She was married. She was… well… she was everything he would no doubt avoid in a date.
“You have crap for family. I know that. I was merely offering my help if you needed it again. Because like it or not, you could need it.”
She nodded. It was more than anyone else did for her. Maybe that’s why she didn’t trust his intentions towards her. She’d learned a long time ago, she could trust no one, but herself.
She turned and left the office, still berating herself for coming there at all. She felt quite shaken with her strange anxiety, at discovering who and what Nick was. She kept her head down and walked quickly past Ms. Richmond, and Sommer Korte and every other passerby who glanced at her enigmatically as she left Nick Lassiter’s presidential suite.
Chapter Seven
Joelle nearly jogged out of Nick’s building. It was obvious she was nervous there in this environment, in his office, and with him. She was nervous at the Al-Anon meetings, nervous at coffee, nervous to call him. Nervous, period. She was a walking anxiety attack, with tattoos and body piercings, and blue hair. Nick shut his office door from Bev’s prying eyes. She was sizing him up, before glancing at Joelle’s retreating figure, and her confusion was clear. Why was that girl here? He almost wondered the same thing. And why was he almost pleased to see her? It was a ridiculous reaction to a girl who didn’t know which way was left in her life.
Joelle represented everything he tried to avoid in his life. She was messy, chaotic, troubled, and totally unclear with who she was or what she wanted. She was also married.
But she was also sinking miserably. He saw the subtle changes in her over the last few months. The changes in her physically were visible on her face since the first time he ran into her at the church parking lot. Her eyes were more frantic, and she was ov
erall, more harried-looking. Her weariness was the kind that sleep wouldn’t cure. Her shoulders seemed to physically sag lately, and he was pretty sure she was losing weight.
Though Joelle wanted to ignore it, after five seconds, anyone could see something was wrong in her life. Her fatigue nearly radiated off her. Nick was pretty sure if she weren’t already clinically depressed, she was pretty close to it. She needed help, and to go to the doctor. But, of course, that was so far beyond his scope of business, he couldn’t mention to her what was as plain as her very blue hair.
Nick saw that she needed her worthless husband to notice his lifestyle was wearing her down to distraction, and stressing her out to near illness. He had no idea what the man was like, but he felt sure he wasn’t taking good care of his wife.
Not his business. He walked over to the bank of windows and stared over the skyline. He felt restless, fidgety, as he looked down at the sidewalks below him. Where would Joelle disappear too? Somewhere back to her life, far, far away from his life. Further in more than just the physical aspects. They were laughably polar opposites; a stretch for even acquaintances, an impossibility as friends, and in such alternate universes as to never become involved. She was married, and Nick wanted to avoid getting involved in that, despite how stupid her husband seemed to be. How frustrating Nick found it that Joelle didn’t seem to notice her husband was no more than just a lazy ass who expected her to work, no matter how much, and never helped her at all. But wasn’t that her choice? Her own stupidity? Her decision to tattoo the loser’s initials on her arm?
Still, Nick could not deny that he felt something very distinct for and about Joelle Williams. Was it because any one of his sisters could have easily become her? Or because he knew Joelle had no one else in the world to turn to, or look out for her? Or was it something more? Something deeper? Was he becoming sexually attracted to her?
Nick walked back to his desk. He picked up a pen and flipped it down in disgust. Attracted to what? A married, clueless, lost, little girl? She might have been his little sister’s age, and dressed the odd way that she did, but she still seemed as lost and naive as a young, frightened schoolgirl. She seemed to Nick in need of desperate help, and mothering or protecting, or something.