Mister Monster: A Hero Club Novel

by Desiree Lafawn

  And honestly, if his face was what she remembered then fucking forget it. Let her have him.

  But I’d be damned if I’d let him swoop in and make decisions, while throwing money around the place, like he had any pull. And I’d just spent the last week and a half visiting with Gigi and undoing all of the things he’d done. The staff knew how I felt about Dexter. I also knew they probably loved him, and his money. Which is why I took over payments for all of the things he paid for, then had his funds re-routed and split between the other members of the facility.

  The denizens of Sheffield Village Assisted Living Facility would be eating well for quite some time. The weekly massage therapy appointments I had set up, using his money, were going to be appreciated as well. It was petty, but as long as someone benefitted from the situation, I certainly wasn’t going to feel a pang of guilt either way. I was perfectly capable of taking care of my own grandmother.

  Dexter Truitt could fuck right off. I heard he was getting married anyway. Lucinda, one of my favorite staff members, told me he’d been telling Gigi about a fiancé. Mentioned someone by the name of Bianca. Lord, did that sound like a socialite name. Maybe if the guy got married he’d have less time to spend fussing over my grandmother and pay attention to his own family.

  7

  Caroline

  “Oh no, rich girl, that is not the way.” I looked into my new friend’s solemn brown eyes as she clicked her tongue and shook her head. The boss had sent me down to accounting to give me something to do under the guise that she take me under her wing while he was away. More likely, he couldn’t think of any more work to give me. Her name was Rubella, but she said everyone calls her Ruby.

  “Because I’m a gem.”

  And if that didn’t sum up her personality, I don’t know what did. I liked her immediately, and we’d been spending almost as much time together outside of the office as in it.

  “What are you talking about?” I pushed the hair that came loose from my messy bun out of my eyes and tucked it behind my ear, only to have it boing right back into my face. Ruby had tried a thing with my hair and the curl would not come out. I know I said I wanted to try to do things regular women did, but maybe I would keep my hair appointments as a minor luxury.

  “You’re filing wrong.” She tapped one long iridescent fingernail on top of the manilla folder I had just slid into place, and crooked a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “J&D gets filed with the JD’s.” She pulled the offending folder out of the home I’d given it and shuffled it to the back of the stack.

  “Oh no. I do know my alphabet and I’m telling you, anything with a number goes first, ampersands and other punctuation go next, and then alphabetical after that. It’s standard.” I knew that. Everyone knew that.

  “Standard where? Not here. I guarantee you, if Mr. Sugarbaker sees this, he won’t be happy. He’s pretty specific about how he likes his stuff.” She crossed her arms and grinned at me, her arms folded under her gigantic bosom. I don’t know how she kept those things under buttons, swear to God she was going to sneeze and put someone’s eye out some day. Today she had on a pink button-down blouse and a long grey cardigan. I knew for a fact, because she told me while she was winding my hair up in corkscrew curlers after three glasses of wine, that she wore a cardigan over everything so she had an extra layer of protection in case a boob decided to free itself from the confines of her wardrobe without permission.

  “Well maybe Mr. Sugarbaker is doing it wrong. Because I know the right way and the wrong way, and I was doing it the right way.”

  “He also likes all of the paperwork to be facing headers to the right.” Her smile grew wider.

  Well, that was just ridiculous. “Why in the hell would he want it that way?”

  “Because Mr. Sugarbaker is left-handed,” Ruby said before a booming voice made us both jump.

  “And I hate having to shuffle the papers around after I pull a file out of the cabinet. I’m busy, and in a hurry, and since they are my client files, I do like to have them easiest for me.”

  Ruby’s smile slipped from her face and her eyes widened as we both turned to find the Mister himself leaning in the open doorway of my office. I hadn’t expected him back until Monday, but here it was Friday and all my bravado about being super professional and unaffected flew right out the window. I’d just been caught gossiping the minute I saw him again.

  And boy, did I see him. He filled the entire doorway, shoulders inching toward the space between the frame. He didn’t wear a suit, but a maroon button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of gray slacks. I wanted to see what kind of expression he wore, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his arms. Those rolled-up shirt sleeves. Other women could keep the gray sweatpants. Those sleeves were my thing.

  “Ruby, I think you’ve probably helped Caroline enough. I need to go over some things with her if you don’t mind.”

  “You got it, Mr. Sugarbaker, just remember to send those expense forms to me so I don’t have to hound you about them.”

  “I always send them to you, don’t I?” He straightened to allow Ruby space to exit the room. She paused as she passed and looked up at him, smiling. He towered over her five-foot five frame, but she poked her finger at his chest without fear.

  “You always send them to me, after I hound you about them.”

  “Go downstairs to your own office,” he grumbled, and I stared at him as I wondered who this man was, because he certainly didn’t behave that way around me. Ruby’s laugh bounced off the walls of the hallway as she made her way to the elevator. I looked at Ash, but he just stared at me until we heard the door of the elevator bing.

  “Come to my office, I want to go over some things with you.” That was it. Then he was gone, opening the door to his office and assuming I would be right behind him. What an infuriating man.

  I waited a good two minutes before I followed him in, slowly gathering my notepad and pen, maybe even smoothing my hair a bit before I followed. He might be my boss, and he may have owned me on that desk, but I made my own damn rules. And right now, I was making him wait.

  When I finally graced his doorway he was sitting in his leather chair, elbows resting on the desk with his hands clasped together, looking absolutely handsome and even more irritated. My skin pricked with excitement. “Sorry, I couldn’t find my pen,” I said, slowly sitting in the expensive looking wooden chair across from him.

  He stared at me a moment longer, dead in the eyes, clearly trying to eye me into submission, but eventually relented and sat back in his chair.

  “We need to discuss what happened between us.”

  I steeled myself. I had prepared for this over the last two weeks. I would not let him brush me off like Dex. I was in charge here. “I would prefer that we didn’t.” I pretended to write something down on the notepad. It was really just a doodle.

  Ash eyed me a moment longer and softened his expression. “I owe you an apology. As your boss, I should have shown more restraint.”

  “Well, you didn’t know who I was, apparently. For a guy who runs a tight ship, I’m surprised you didn’t know.” I cocked my head and returned my gaze to my notepad, scribbling, Tacos for dinner.

  When I looked up again I could see he wasn’t amused. In fact, he looked downright pissed. I saw a fraction of the bull I’d seen that night at the church, and I didn’t really want to invite any more of him to come out. “Look—” I said, setting my notepad in my lap, but before I had a chance to continue, he cut me off.

  “We can’t and won’t be crossing that line again, you got me, Church?”

  He beat me to the punch and he knew it. Mother fucker. Didn’t hurt as bad as a text, but I wanted to be the one doing the rejecting this time. “Totally fine with me,” I said, my voice steady but my heart thumping in my chest. “I think we need to remain professional and put our past interactions behind us.”

  A smirk ghosted across his face. “Yes, behind us . . . “ He tapped a finger on the
desk.

  My blood suddenly boiled. “And don’t call me Church anymore. I have a name, and it’s Caroline.”

  He nodded. “Very well. Caroline.”

  “Great,” I said as I stood. “Will that be all, Mr. Sugarbaker?” I’d tried so hard to keep my voice steady, but the venom suddenly came out and I couldn’t take it back.

  Ash pressed his large hands on the desk like he was trying to suppress something, and met my gaze. “Look, these are unusual circumstances, and while I am not well-versed on how to avoid conflict with my assistant that I just so happened to fuck on her desk, I’d like to put this behind us for our own sakes. Perhaps you’d feel more comfortable in another department?”

  That made my ears burn hot with rage. Everything I’d sacrificed to get here was not about to be undone by a smoking hot Viking who couldn’t admit he wanted me. And besides that, I highly doubted I was his first office conquest. I was not about to step aside for his comfort. “Another department? I don’t think so. Gabe hired me to work here, and here is where I will stay.” I stared him dead in the eyes, unwilling to turn mouse on him now.

  “Very well. Then I expect you to follow instructions, obey commands, and come when I call you.” There was that smirk again. He was messing with me and I wanted nothing more than to see what was under that stupid fucking burgundy sweater. No. Fuck it. I was not giving in.

  “Obey?” I asked, tapping my foot to dull my anger. “Come when you call?” I nodded to myself. “Whatever you say, sir. But I expect the same respect in return. I didn’t go to Yale to be someone’s secretary.”

  Ash gave one nod. “Noted. Gabe has informed me of your extensive education . . . and background.”

  I narrowed my eyes for a second. That was a dig. He thought I was just a daddy’s girl playing big girl. But I wasn’t biting. “Will there be anything else?”

  “No.”

  “Great.” I turned on my heel and marched back to my office, slamming the door closed with enough force to make me feel better but not shake up the whole floor.

  I didn’t know if I wanted to punch him or fuck him. At this point, maybe I wanted to do both.

  8

  Ash

  I’d made her mad, but I wasn’t sorry. It was important to assert my dominance early or she’d think she had the run of me. I meant what I’d said and was relieved she agreed with me. What happened between us couldn’t happen again. It would be difficult not to think of the sounds she made when I was inside her, every time I saw her face, but I would not let her win in a power struggle. She wanted a job and Gabe made her my assistant. So my assistant she would be until the day she decided she couldn’t handle it anymore.

  I wasn’t kidding when I told Gabe I didn’t need an assistant. I really didn’t. We had a specific team here at Anderson Investments. One I’d built carefully since I took over from him, and there were reasons I didn’t appreciate him slapping someone in it without checking with me. We had a delicate ecosystem here. Gabe was fucking with the food chain.

  That, and I just didn’t have enough work for her to do. I’d sent her down to see Ruby because no one knew the inner workings of the company more than the accounting team. They had their hands in everything, and the quickest way to learn the ins and outs of the company was to learn from someone who had their hand in all the pies.

  There was no way she would last. I saw where she was from. She came from money. She’d be bored with this town and this job in a hot minute and she’d be out the door. I just hoped I could keep my dick under control for the length of time she was here. I’d never had sex with an employee before. It was a line I’d never even dreamed of crossing, and maybe that pissed me off too. That I’d wanted Church—I refused to think of her as Caroline—so badly that I forgot exactly who I was and where I was at just to get to her.

  That wasn’t me. I was a man in control at all times. If I didn’t have that…well I didn’t even want to think about it. Regardless, it wouldn’t happen again, and I was glad we were on the same page.

  But even several hours after our conversation, I was still bothered. Still aggravated. I went home from the office to my normally comforting apartment and I just couldn’t sit still. I threw on some running clothes and went for a jog. Normally when I needed to think about things I’d punish myself physically, and today was no different. See, I didn’t like running. I fucking hated it. Cardio sucked and no one could ever tell me differently. A man as big as I was? It felt like pushing a truck around every time I had to heave my giant self anywhere. But nothing commanded me. Not even my size. I didn’t run because I liked it. I ran because I didn’t like it. I ran until it stopped being torture and started being tolerable. I ran until my shirt stuck to my body and the sweat ran down my neck and arms. I ran to discipline myself.

  And it normally worked.

  But even though I tried, I couldn’t get in the head space to really push myself. I kept thinking about that shoulder-length blonde hair and smart mouth. Those curves she barely kept restrained behind stupidly expensive clothes. The too tall shoes she always changed into when she got to the office because she walked to work in flats. I didn’t realize she didn’t drive, but it made sense. Being from the bigger city, she probably had access to all kinds of transportation. Hell, she probably had a driver.

  Here it was either drive, walk, or take the bus. Frankly, I couldn’t see Church taking a city bus. Ever. But walking probably wasn’t good either. Downtown was cleaning up in leaps and strides, but that didn’t mean there weren’t dangerous people around, as apparent by the way we’d met in the first place. I could see St. Pat’s rising up ahead. Speaking of dangerous people and places . . .

  This was where I’d first met her, getting mugged right there at the bottom of the steps of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Most ridiculous thing I’d ever witnessed, a junkie trying to shake down someone without a dollar to their name. That guy was weak as hell too. Completely lost to his addiction. Some people weren’t beyond help, though. Some people just needed a little boost to get them going in the right direction. The key was knowing when to offer your hand and when to make a fist, and when I saw that filthy waste of skin with his hand over Church’s mouth, I knew a fist was the only way he was going to listen.

  A couple of blocks past the cathedral I was finally getting into the stride of a good run when I heard voices in the alley to the left. Past the church was the warehouse district. For a block or two there wasn’t a whole lot going on but old factories and warehouses. The factories weren’t occupied anymore, but the warehouses kept things busy enough. We were by the water down here, so the ships still brought business in by boat every once in a while.

  I stopped short when I heard the voices. It could have been a couple of employees sneaking a smoke out on break. Or it could have been something else. I couldn’t continue on my run without finding out what it was. Picking through the alley where the sun of early evening didn’t shine, I managed to not kick over the empty cardboard boxes, or the OSHA violations worth of half stacked wooden pallets laying everywhere. The alley was a dump. I heard the voices again and for a second, just for a second, my blood ran cold.

  I recognized that voice, and it just couldn’t be possible. It couldn’t be her. Not again.

  “I can’t believe I let you get the drop on me again.” The female voice shrieked. “Of all the stupid…in my defense I’ve had a really bad day. My boss pissed me off like you wouldn’t even believe.”

  “Lady, I don’t care about your day. Just give me what you have in your purse or I’ll cut you,” a male voice snapped. It was hardly believable, but I recognized his voice too. There was no way this was happening. Not again. What were the fucking odds?

  “Cut me with what? You don’t even have a weapon, unless you’re talking about your smell. That’s pretty potent, I’ll give you that.”

  “Damn, lady, I’m just trying to eat. You don’t look like you’re missing any meals. Hell, that bag would get me fed for a few days.”
<
br />   I crept around the dark alley like a stalker, trying not to make any noise so I could get closer without being noticed. It sounded like she had it under control, but who knew? And I wanted to hear more about this boss that pissed her off.

  “Cut the shit, creeper. You aren’t trying to get food. Every dollar you get goes to junk and you know it. You’re high right now, I can tell. If you really wanted food, I would take you to the grocery store and get you something to eat. But you don’t. You want a fix. Or worse. Stop lying and do something to fix yourself instead of jumping women on their way home from work. You know, my job? Where I work for my money?”

  Damn, Church. You’re going to get yourself stabbed before I get there.

  All thoughts of being careful and quiet flew out the window as I heard a shuffle and a shriek. I hauled ass the rest of the way down the alley until I finally saw who was talking, and yep, it was exactly who I thought it was, and they were doing exactly what I thought they were doing.

  Church had her back to me, but I could see the junkie pretty clearly. He was wearing exactly the same outfit he’d had on two weeks ago, even though my brain didn’t want to register the fact that he hadn’t bathed or changed in the two weeks that had passed. He still sported some bruising around his eyes and mouth, and his nose was still sitting a little crooked.

  I probably did that.

  He had his hands on Church’s bag. A very expensive Chanel, if I could tell by the ostentatious gold buckle on the front, but she wasn’t letting go. In fact, she was trying very hard to yank it back out of his possession. She swung her arms back and turned, giving a view of her profile. Her face wasn’t playing around. She was dead serious and she was not letting go without that bag. Her attacker changed tactics, letting go of the bag and grabbing for her arm.