Damaged

by Gina Watson

He forced a smile down as he agreed that she could do pretty much anything.

  “I checked out your website. I didn’t see a product page or any virtual storefront.”

  Looking at her thick lips he recalled their taste. A little salty, but also like she’d just eaten an orange. Shit. As his pants pulled tight over his gaining erection he thought maybe this wasn’t a good idea. He forced himself back into the game. “You’re exactly right. All of those things you mentioned need to be created. We currently receive orders the old fashioned way.” Perching on the edge of his desk he held up the phone receiver. “Our loyal customers are old. We aren’t taking advantage of the growth the internet would offer. As you can see, we need an online shop where customers can place orders.”

  “Will you continue to take orders over the phone as well?”

  “I don’t know. I was hoping we could discuss the pros and cons of each sales model.” She licked her lips as she already began to ponder the existing sales structure. He could watch her all day and still not get enough.

  “A hybrid model would probably work well in the beginning and help retain existing customers who are accustomed to phoning in orders.”

  She hummed with energy and seemed to enjoy the conversational give and take of discussing her knowledge of internet business.

  “Do you ship products all over from this location?”

  “We do. Even as far as Scotland. We also have recurrent orders from Asia. However, most of our shipping is completed within a five-hundred-mile radius. We actually make use of the river. Eighty percent of our product is distributed that way. It’s cheaper and provides us with complete control over shipping and sales.”

  She looked surprised. “The Mississippi River?”

  “Yep. Most vessels on the river are shipping some sort of product: grain, fertilizer, coal.”

  “So that boat you took me to”—she swallowed—“that was a shipping vessel?”

  That’s right, baby—I fucked you six ways from Sunday on David Seafood’s shipping boat.

  “Yes, we use it to ship seafood.”

  He’d been drunk and had given her directions. She’d never faltered. Even when she’d realized he meant to take her on the barge-like industrial vessel. She was fearless. And maybe a little reckless. An awkward silence hovered between them.

  He thumbed through her resume. “This is impressive.”

  “Um … thanks.” She shrugged.

  He suspected if he were to offer her a job she wouldn’t bite. He’d have to make it too good to turn down. “What’s most important to you in an employer?”

  “My last job provided me with great medical insurance.”

  “All of our employees are insured. Most pay less than one hundred dollars per month for full coverage.”

  “That’s great.”

  Her comment was said with distance, like she was on the outside peering in. Was it a negotiation tactic or was she shutting him out?

  “How much did you get paid in New York?”

  “About fifty thousand dollars a year.”

  Roughly that computed to about twenty-five dollars per hour, maybe a tad less. He was thinking the new position would cost him no more than twenty. He’d have to clear it with his father first, but he knew they wanted—hell, David Seafood needed to have an internet presence.

  “If I said I could match that pay would you accept the position?”

  “You’re going to pay me twenty-four dollars an hour to design a website? That’s not very good pay. Usually I charge a hundred an hour.”

  Parker coughed. “What?”

  “I write all the code from scratch. It’ll probably take me about eighty hours, start to finish.”

  Ah, he understood the confusion. “I’m looking to give you a permanent fulltime position with health benefits, among others. I could probably pay you twenty-five dollars per hour.”

  “What will I do after I design the website?”

  “Manage the internet sales division.”

  “I don’t know anything about management.”

  “We have people that can mentor you.”

  “Why not just hire someone with management experience?”

  He stood and paced. “I don’t think I can manage something I don’t know anything about.”

  “You can’t manage it?”

  “I am the CFO in this little shindig … finance manager extraordinaire.” He smiled at her, but she didn’t smile back. He didn’t like that. It was like offering a high five and being left hanging like a dumbass with your hand in the air.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to work together.”

  “You can work with Julian then. He can help you develop a team.” Still not ideal, but much better than if the two of them worked together because he already wanted her again.

  “A team of what?”

  Her innocence contrasted with her body’s yearning to form the perfect mixture of virgin and whore. He shook his head to clear it of the sexual images. She regarded him with a raised, questioning brow. He cleared his throat. “A packaging and distribution team.”

  “I don’t know. I’m already lost.”

  “And I’m lost when you start talking in computer speak.”

  “When would the insurance kick in?”

  “Right away.”

  “Really?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, if it means that much to you.”

  “I’m in. When do I start?”

  “Great. You can start as soon as Mrs. Banks processes all of your paperwork.” He frowned. “There’s a drug test, but I can exclude it from your application. It’s conducted at random to ensure the safety of the seafood handlers.”

  “I have no problems taking and passing a drug test.”

  He leaned forward in his chair and spoke candidly. “If you take it and fail there’s not much I can do. If it’s excluded it may go undetected.”

  “Mr. David, I can pass a drug test with flying colors.”

  Really? Her insistent arrogance on the subject confused him. He rubbed his index finger across his upper lip. She was intriguing, he’d give her that. “Fair enough Miss Jones, and it’s daa-veed not David.”

  “Daa-veed.”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s spelled just like David.”

  “I’m aware, but it’s French …” He exhaled in frustration. “Forget it.”

  “What will the hours be?”

  “I guess that doesn’t really matter too much until you build a team. Doors open early. For the first couple of weeks you can come and go as you please as long as you log your hours.”

  “I’ll need preauthorization to take a three-hour lunch on Tuesdays and Thursdays as I have a prior commitment. I plan to come in two hours earlier on those days.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Mrs. Banks has some forms you’ll need to fill out. The sooner they’re completed, the sooner you’ll get your insurance coverage.”

  “I’ll fill them out now if that’s okay.” She stood.

  “Perfect.” He smiled and took her personnel file in his hands, reading it. “You’re only twenty-four? You look so much older.”

  “Thanks. A girl can’t hear that enough.”

  He’d not had a chance to really look at her the night they’d slept together. She had a smattering of freckles across the apples of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Upon closer inspection he realized the freckles didn’t stop there. Flecks existed on her forehead, upper lip, chin, and even her eyelids. Surrounded by her rust colored hair her eyes stood out like dark blue gas flames. Her pillowy pink lips found it hard to close around her incredible sparkling white teeth. She was beautiful, but something was off. Her pallor, with its pale and dry quality, acted as a barometer for her health. Her eyes were circled in fine lines and dark shadows. He recalled his fingers leaving red marks all over her skin. Yeah he’d been rough, but he’d been that way with hordes of women, but never had the acts caused blemishes on their bodie
s. And then there were those track lines on her arms that were currently hidden under her black pantsuit.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say you looked old. You just seem older.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “You’re very pretty.”

  She scoffed. “Please, I know how I look.”

  He’d actually thought she was closer to thirty than twenty. As he recalled how he’d fucked her he felt more than a little guilty. He’d aggressively fucked a young woman once before and it had ended in tears—Jaycee, she’d been eighteen and hysterical. Her father had chased him out of her bedroom with a Smith and Wesson snub nose thirty-eight. In his experience the younger women wanted romance and love, but the older women wanted to fly. He could go either way. However, lately he enjoyed fucking hard.

  She tugged on the file in his hands, startling him from his thoughts. “Don’t we need this to get started?”

  “Yeah.” He gave her the file and led her through the door and out to Mrs. Banks’ desk. “Bailey is going to accept the position.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful.”

  “The thing is, I want to get her into the system as soon as possible. Find out what needs to be done to get her a temporary insurance card. I’d like it today if possible.”

  “Yes, Mr. David.” Bailey fidgeted with her fingers, his lingering stare causing her to blush.

  “Once you’re done I’ll set you up in an office and see if Julian has any time available.”

  “Thanks, Mr. David.”

  He grinned at her correct pronunciation. “Both of you ladies may call me Parker. I know Mrs. Banks won’t do it, but Bailey, I don’t see any reason for formality here. Welcome aboard.”

  Avoiding her at all cost would become his new goal at work. He wondered if she knew he was picturing her naked during their entire exchange.

  Chapter 4

  Over the next week Bailey got to experience the perks of working for David Seafood. She’d learned that at the peak of every harvest, be it crawfish, oysters, crabs, or shrimp, the company held a dinner for its employees and their families.

  One such dinner was taking place now. Bailey walked into the large warehouse room that usually served as the shipping area, but tonight was outfitted with tables covered with newspaper. Scanning the room she saw Julian and Parker and their two sisters, as well as Mr. David senior and their mother. She counted on her fingers: one, two, three, four. One sibling was MIA—the older brother she had yet to meet. Families gathered at the tables and Mrs. Banks waved Bailey over to a chair.

  “Bailey, I want you to meet my son Wilson.”

  He stood and extended his hand, “How do you do?” His lazy, deep southern drawl awakened her senses. “You can call me Will.”

  “Nice to meet you, Will.” He seemed reserved with his tight-set mouth and lowered head. Bailey followed Mrs. Banks down to the bench they shared.

  “My mom tells me you just started with the company.” His dark, furrowed eyes bespoke pain or confusion. Since it wasn’t possible for him to be confused by their easy conversation, she wondered what caused him pain.

  “That’s right. A week ago.” Will possessed dark hair and eyes, with a well-defined jaw, and a sharp-but-slender nose that afforded him a sexy profile. And how sweet that he was accompanying his mother to what was no doubt a boring dinner for him.

  He didn’t attempt to say anything else. Instead he sat with his elbows on the table and his hands folded into fists beneath his chin. The effect had his biceps bulging from beneath the T-shirt he wore. Deep in thought he sighed and closed his eyes. Bailey’s eyes cut to Mrs. Banks, who sniffled and patted her son’s back in comfort.

  Mrs. David walked up to the table and placed her hand on Will’s shoulder. “Will, it’s so good to see you. I’m glad you made it.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Daa-veed.”

  “How’s it going?” Now Mrs. David looked pained.

  “Every day I wake up and think it will be easier, but then it isn’t, so I have to force myself to put one foot in front of the other.”

  “Won’t you come out to the house one weekend? Spend some time with the boys.”

  He nodded. “I might.”

  Mrs. David squeezed Will’s shoulder and then she made eye contact with Bailey. “Bailey, right?” Her gentle smile made Bailey’s gut seize as she ached for her own mother’s sweet smile and peaceful demeanor.”

  “Yes. It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Daa-veed.”

  “You as well. Parker tells me you have some great ideas for the website.”

  Parker? She must have meant Julian. Bailey recalled how her own mother often mixed her name up with Maura’s. Remembering how she would answer to either name made Bailey smile. “I’m glad to be earning my keep.”

  “I’m glad Parker’s finally found someone to help him with the management end of things. He’s needed help for a long time.”

  No. It seems she definitely meant to say Parker. So he was keeping tabs on the website development. That made sense. She imagined him being briefed by Julian and wondered if they had discussed her in a sexual capacity. She felt her face heat just at the thought of it. She searched for Parker and her eyes locked with his across the room. Before she could flush further, his father stole his attention as he enlisted his son’s help. Biceps curled as he lifted baskets from the steamers and dumped the contents onto the newspaper-covered tables. Shrimp poured from the metal baskets along with corn and potatoes. His sisters went around and unloaded condiments onto the tables. Mr. David made a speech about small family-owned businesses and thanked all of his loyal employees, getting choked up in the process.

  Bailey pulled a pink shrimp from the heaping pile on the table and marveled that she’d never seen a shrimp with legs attached before. She watched as the others at the table peeled the sea creatures. As she tried to peel back the hard shell the critter slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor. Parker bent to pick it up and Bailey’s chest and face instantly heated with embarrassment. He clicked his tongue in admonishment as he threw the shrimp in the trash.

  He sat next to her and with his hands, scooped a small pile of shrimp in front of them. Then he took two little white condiment bowls and poured sauce from a jar. “This is how it’s done.” He picked up a shrimp and inserted a fingernail between two scales on the bottom of the creature. A flick of his wrist had the entire shell lifting from the shrimp, the veins on his arms becoming more prominent with each movement. He dunked it in the sauce and then held it before Bailey’s lips.

  Hmm. To her, unless you were an infant, having someone feed you was a highly intimate act, and she didn’t want to eat food from his hand. Of course she didn’t want to embarrass him either, so she opened her mouth. Parker placed the shrimp on her tongue and then applied pressure to her lips as he slid his finger from her mouth.

  The perfectly cooked shrimp snapped as she chewed. Flavors of the sea and their spicy seasonings lingered in her mouth. She smiled. “Mmm. Good.”

  Parker smiled and popped two into his mouth.

  He nodded to Will. “How are things?”

  “Better.”

  “Good.” Parker’s sincerity could be intense and right now he was utterly serious as he regarded Will with a deep stare. For the second time tonight Bailey wondered what had happened to Will. “You guys enter the drawing?”

  “Not yet.” Will answered.

  “And Bailey, did you enter?”

  “What drawing?”

  “See that box on the table?” Parker pointed and continued to peel shrimp, piling them high between them. “There are giveaways. I happen to know one giveaway is for five hundred dollars. Another is for a cruise.”

  “Wow. That’s very generous. I’ll definitely enter.”

  “My father is abundantly aware that our business is only as good as our employees—of which we have the best, present company included.” He smiled cheekily at her. “These little opportunities to break bread with his employees ar
e high on his list of top priorities. He enjoys showering gifts of appreciation on them.”

  As the evening wore on, Bailey became tired, but the two-hundred-dollar spa gift card she won reinforced her waning energy. She planned to give it to Maura, who had worked hard to provide for them both and deserved to be pampered.

  Watching Parker mingle with employees caused her libido to do flips. His smooth-talking demeanor left the women in his wake cooing and the men observing him with concentration, perhaps wishing to be like him.

  Christ, not again. Witnessing his biceps bulge as he drained the shrimp boil was just torture. Rather than getting caught by Mrs. Banks, or worse Mrs. David, while salivating over Parker, she excused herself for the night by feigning a headache.

  The next few days Bailey avoided Parker as she would a two-ton boulder rolling off the side of a cliff. She couldn’t avoid him in her sleep, however—damn it all if her body and mind didn’t betray all her efforts when wrapped in the arms of Morpheus. She couldn’t avoid him forever. Sooner or later work would demand that they confer. Bailey had the website ready to launch, exactly two weeks to the day since she began working at David Seafood.

  Today the site would be rolled out and excitement electrified the air. She’d worked solely with Julian on the project and was relieved it had worked out that way—whenever she crossed paths with Parker she went a little lightheaded. Her mind slowed. All thoughts of computer code fled, replaced by more base thoughts like being thrown against the wall while Parker’s strong thighs held their weight and he roughly pounded into her. Shit. She shook her head to dislodge the images, but it was no use. Her body was revolting against her, determined to take what it craved.

  She recalled how hot he looked the morning after their night together, in his designer jeans and nothing else. Thick biceps, shoulders carved from marble, six-pack abs, and that abdominal V that trailed like a road map into his jeans. She imagined nuzzling over the smattering of light abdominal hair that snaked down into his jeans.

  She wanted him again, just one more time to give her a chance to fill any gaps in her memory from the glorious night they’d shared. Wanted everything he had to give. Everything. As she thought about how to go about propositioning him she unlocked her office, turned on the light, and turned on her desktop computer.