by Mia Madison
The office was almost completely dark, but I still made my way down to Mr. King’s office to leave the documents he requested on his desk along with a note detailing what I’d done. So it was quite surprising when I got to his door and saw his silhouette lit only by his computer screen.
“I thought you would’ve gone home by now,” I said after he noticed my presence.
“I’d rather work late than come in on a Saturday,” he said stiffly as he reached out for the stack of files I had for him. “Though sometimes it can’t be avoided. Thank you for getting this done.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” I joked, some of the irritation I felt for staying so late beginning to fade as I took in his disheveled appearance. “Are you all right?”
“Of course.”
When he looked up and saw my lips pursed, he let out a heavy sigh of resignation.
“I’m fine. Just... overworked.”
“Aren’t we all,” I said wistfully, ignoring his pointed eye roll. “Do you need anything else before I go? I can stay later if it’ll help get you out of here.”
“That’s... very generous of you, but no. I’m afraid this is all work I have to take care of myself.”
“Does anyone take care of you?”
My mouth snapped shut as soon as the words left my mouth. I wanted to blame my exhaustion for stepping over the line, but the truth was I was just extremely curious. Charles’ head snapped up and his eyes narrowed, a flash of something coming across his face and disappearing before I could even try to put a name to it.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I-I’m not either. I’m just tired and—”
“And you’re lying. You know exactly what you meant,” he argued, accusation thick in his voice. “So spell it out for me.”
“I was just.... I was curious if you have someone waiting for you. At home.”
“Someone waiting to... take care of me,” he drawled, chuckling under his breath. “No, I don’t. Does that honestly surprise you?”
“Yeah. I just... don’t understand how a man like you would be single for very long.”
“A man like me?” he asked, leaning his forearms on his desk, his computer momentarily forgotten.
“You know. A successful, attractive man who—”
I cut myself off when he abruptly stood up, the sudden shift startling me. He rapidly strode around the desk, pinning me with the weight of his gaze.
“You think I’m attractive, hmm?” He waited for me to nod before chuckling again. “I’m far too old for you to be thinking such things, Miss Price.”
“How old are you?” I asked, staring up at him with wide eyes. How had I never noticed how freaking tall he was?
“Forty-three.”
“You don’t look it.”
Charles hummed in acknowledgment, staring me down like he was trying to uncover all my secrets with his eyes. I assumed he was searching for hidden motivations that might have been lurking in such a conversation, but I knew he’d come up empty. I had nothing to hide.
With a huff, Charles backed away. He kept his eyes on me, watching for signs of deceit as he asked, “What do you want?”
“That’s not why I—”
He held up a hand to interrupt me and nodded. “I know. But between this and your insistence on spending lunch together, I’m certain there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“I need two days off,” I muttered, looking down at the floor and trying to dispel the guilty feeling. I could only pray that he didn’t honestly believe that was the only reason I was being kind to him.
“You just started working here.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“What days?”
“Next Thursday and Friday. My best friend is getting married and I’m the maid of honor and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right when I started but—and no offense intended—but you’ve been so damn rude to me that I was afraid of mentioning it and—”
A single finger was placed on my lips to cut off my babbling and the desire to lick it was incredibly alarming. I blinked a few times before looking up at his raised eyebrows and when it was clear that I was done talking, he slowly pulled his finger away.
“Do you have a date?”
“I’m sorry?” I asked incredulously.
“A date, Miss Price. To this wedding you claim to be a part of.”
“Claim? I—” My protest was cut short by the look on his face. “No. I’m going stag.”
“Where is it?”
“Saratoga Springs.”
Charles hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose that would explain why you need two days. That’s a three-hour drive on a good day.”
“I know. The wedding is on Friday but I need to be there Thursday to have my dress fitted and go to the rehearsal dinner. I don’t even know why she bothered making me her maid of honor. I couldn’t even make it to the bachelorette party,” I added miserably. Brooke insisted it was all right, but I still felt guilty.
“You can have the days off.”
“Seriously? Thank you so much! I—”
“And I’ll accompany you.”
“Wait—what?”
That definitely wasn’t what I was expecting. Not even close. The thought hadn’t even idly crossed my mind, it was so far-fetched.
“As I said before, I’m overworked. I can wrap up this case work by Wednesday and take a few days off. It’d be beneficial to us both.”
“How is it beneficial to me?”
“Aren’t weddings notoriously an event that women want dates for?”
“I mean, I guess, but I—”
“Then it’s settled,” he cut in, a small smile tugging at his lips. Any argument I might have made got destroyed at the sight of it. “Write down the address of the venue before you take off for the night. I’ll need to get a room for myself somewhere.”
Thankfully I still had the address saved in my cell phone, so I jotted it down before looking back to his eyes. He seemed amused by my total bewilderment and a small part of me wondered if that was the point. He was obviously fond of confusing the shit out of me.
“Have a nice weekend, Finley.”
“Thanks... Charles. You, too.”
There was a strange tension in the air between us, but it was broken when Charles broke eye contact and went back to his seat. I sucked in a breath and started the trek home, failing miserably in my attempt not to let my imagination run wild at the thought of going to a wedding with Charles as my date. In the cab, I typed off a quick text.
Finley: Talked to my boss.
It didn’t surprise me that she was still awake and in less than a minute, my phone chimed with a response.
Brooke: Yeah? And?
Finley: I’ll be there. And I’m gonna need that plus one after all.
7
Charles was so busy on Monday and Tuesday that we barely even had a chance to run through what I needed to do for work, let alone discuss our upcoming trip to the wedding. I had so much to do that it wasn’t until Wednesday morning, when he requested that I join him for lunch to discuss our transportation, that the excitement fully hit me.
I was making my way into his office with his usual sandwich in hand when I heard Arthur’s voice and froze.
“I don’t remember the last time you took time off, Chuck. Is there something you want to tell me?”
“It’s for a wedding. Nothing of note.”
“Who’s getting married?”
“A friend. And I’ve given Miss Price the days off as well. There’s no point in her coming in if I’m not here for her to assist.”
“Quite right,” Arthur agreed with a chuckle. “Have a good time, my friend. And try to relax a little. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up looking my age long before you should.”
“Duly noted,” Charles replied dryly.
The sound of footsteps alerted me to Arthur’s departure and I made myself look nonchalant as I nearly bumped into him.
“No problem, Finley. Having a good day?”
“Of course. And yourself?”
“No complaints.” His cell phone rang in his pocket and he rolled his eyes. “Well, maybe a few. Excuse me, dear.”
I nodded as he passed by and turned to step into Mr. King’s office. When I nearly barreled into Charles, I jumped with real surprise.
His eyes narrowed and he asked, “How much did you hear?”
I laughed as I handed him the bag and closed the door behind me. “Wow. You’re a bloodhound, you know that?”
“Answer the question.”
“I didn’t realize your friend was getting married,” I teased. “Please give my congratulations to the happy couple.”
He silently stalked back to his seat so I followed suit, though I was still grinning with amusement while he scowled at his sandwich like it had deeply offended him.
“The truth would have brought up too many questions,” he finally explained, looking up at me with a question in his eyes. “Surely you understand that.”
“What? You think Arthur would have found it weird that you invited yourself to a wedding with your assistant? Sounds pretty normal to me.”
The roll of his eyes was nothing new, but the sound of his laugh was. He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, pulling his glasses off and dropping them on the desk before rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“I’m just teasing you,” I said as my smile faded at the thought of causing him unnecessary stress for a joke.
Charles nodded and muttered, “More than you seem to realize.”
I felt my cheeks heat up, but he thankfully hadn’t put his glasses back on nor looked my way. It was strange to see him without the thick black frames, but he unwrapped his sandwich and began to eat without them.
“What time are you leaving in the morning?”
“The bus leaves at—”
“No.”
I froze, cocking an eyebrow. “No? No what?”
“I’ll drive you. There’s no need to take a bus.”
“But—”
“I. Will. Drive,” he said firmly, stressing each word as he glared at me with those damn brown eyes of his. “What time would you like to leave?”
“Seven?” I asked, still hypnotized by his gaze.
“That’s acceptable. Where will you be staying?”
“With Brooke?” I asked, shaking my head to myself when he gave me a ‘what-the-fuck’ look. “I mean, with Brooke. I think.”
“You think? How do you not know where you’re staying?”
“I didn’t ask. I honestly didn’t expect you to let me have the time off.”
“So if I hadn’t given you the time off, you would have skipped it?”
“Yes.”
There was a long stretch of silence and I watched as he put his glasses back on and studied me carefully. After another minute or so had passed, he let out a sigh of resignation.
“I suppose I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“For being so hard on you when you started. You’re obviously serious about being here. When Arthur asked if I’d be willing to give his daughter’s friend a job, I expected a spoiled rich girl who didn’t know the meaning of hard work.”
“I’m about as far as you can get from a spoiled rich girl, believe me,” I said with a self-deprecating laugh. “But I’ve had a lot of friends like that and it’s made me very grateful for the way my sister and I were raised.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yeah. Her name is Charlotte, but she prefers to go by Charlie. She’s actually Ava’s friend—I’m just the cool older sister. You’ll meet her at the wedding.”
Charles nodded while I considered just how strange it was going from referring to him as Satan in my head to speaking to him like we were friends going on a trip together.
Of course, at night my imagination had been summoning images of us going on this trip together as far more than friends. The thought made me blush.
“I look forward to meeting her,” Charles said right before the office phone rang. “And I’ll pick you up at the address you have on file at seven sharp.”
“Thank you,” I told him honestly. Because I really hadn’t been looking forward to the bus ride. “I’ll get out of your hair.”
He looked down at our unfinished lunches then over to the phone, holding up his hand as I rose from my chair.
“They’ll call back,” he said as he pressed the button to mute the ringer. “They always do.”
I was almost certain that if I hadn’t already had been moving to sit back down, the sight of his earnest smile would have made my knees weak.
What was Charles King doing to me?
“No one can say that you aren’t punctual,” I said with a grin when my eyes locked on Charles as he leaned against the side of a sleek black sedan the next morning at exactly seven o’clock.
“If you want to get technical, I was here early. You would be the punctual one.”
“Fair enough,” I conceded, dropping my bag into the back seat after he opened the door for me. When he raised an eyebrow, I asked, “What?”
“The luggage typically goes in the trunk,” he said, stifling a laugh as he tipped his head to the open trunk. “But if you’d like to sit on your bag, don’t let me stop you.”
I leaned down enough to peak into the car, feeling mortified when I saw the driver looking back at me with an amused smile. I muttered an apology and put my bag in the correct place before sliding into the seat.
When Charles sank down on the leather beside me, I swallowed hard. When he directed the driver to go and pressed the button to raise the divider, I outright gulped.
A three-hour ride with Charles during which his hands were free and we were close enough together for me to smell his aftershave?
Oh shit.
8
An hour into our trip and I had pretty much hit the limit on how long I could avoid looking at Charles. He had thankfully been preoccupied with his cell phone for the ride thus far, but eventually, his attention turned to me.
“You seem tense. Is everything all right?
“Fine, fine. I’m great. How about you?”
Charles’ eyes narrowed even as one brow cocked high. “I don’t buy it.”
“Just got a leg cramp,” I lied, far more smoothly than I even realized I could. “We going to make a bathroom stop somewhere along the way?”
He frowned and gestured outside. “We’re in the middle of nowhere at the moment.”
“I could really use a ladies room soon.”
He blinked and pressed the button to lower the divider. “Frank?”
“Yes, Mr. King?”
“Please pull off at the next rest stop. Miss Price needs a restroom.”
“Of course.”
The divider slid back up and I was thankful that Charles had bought my line and prayed that a rest stop would show up soon just to get a few minutes away from his intimidating presence.
But Charles, in his seemingly endless quest to make me feel confused as humanly possible, wasn’t done.
I jumped when his hand landed on my knee, turning my wide eyes to stare at him as he started to tug.
“Wh-What are you doing?” I asked, hating how breathless my voice sounded.
“Stretching out your legs in case there isn’t a rest stop,” he said slowly, shaking his head like he couldn’t understand why I hadn’t figured it out. “Come here.”
I was too shell-shocked to fight as he gripped a little harder and twisted my lower body to drape my legs over his lap.
“Is that better?”
No. It’s much worse. But it’d be better if you slid your hand a little closer to—
“Great,” I choked out, clearing my throat when he gave me a weird look. “Thanks.”
/>
He was staring at me so intently that I knew he could see the blush staining my cheeks, which only served to make me even more embarrassed. I stared directly past him and out the window, refusing to look him in the eye.
Did he have any idea what kind of effect he was having? And perhaps more importantly—was there the slightest chance that I had a similar effect on him?
“Finley. Look at me.”
I warily did as he requested, surprised to see that he was leaning even closer to me than he had been before. He shifted until his strong thigh was pressed against my ass, my knees bent over his lap as he got closer.
“Are you doing this on purpose?” I finally worked up the nerve to ask.
“Doing what?”
“You damn well know what I’m talking about.”
He was so, so close. I could feel my eyelids lowering in preparation of the kiss I knew he wanted to press to my lips. I watched his throat bob as he swallowed hard, his eyes flickering down to my chest as my breath quickened.
A loud ding startled us both and we hastily got into upright positions as the divider began to lower.
“Sir? There’s a rest stop just ahead.”
“Thank you, Frank,” Charles said with a thick voice. “Please leave the divider down. I’d like to listen to the radio when we get back in the car.”
“Yes, sir.”
Charles didn’t look back at me, though I did catch him swallowing hard a few times as if attempting to compose himself. When the car finally rolled to a stop, I opened the door and ran for the restrooms like a bat out of hell.
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered to my reflection after washing my hands. “I can’t get involved with him. I can’t.”
Partially because I had given Brooke so much shit for dating Joshua because of his age and Charles was even older. It’d make me one hell of a hypocrite.
Of course, no one said I had to date him. I could always just sleep with him. You know, for science.
“Cause that worked so well for Brooke,” I said as I remembered her explaining the chain of events that led to her engagement to Professor Baxter.