by Lia Lee
“That’s some stuff, girl. Is your door fixed yet?”
“Nope.”
April swung her legs around and dropped into the patio before heading into the apartment through the window. The place was a disaster, of course. The last creeps who had broken in hadn’t taken anything, but they still managed to rifle through every single thing she owned, left boot prints everywhere, busted her doorframe, and scared her dopey pug. April picked her way through the mess to give her little black kitten some food, and then flopped down on the blue chair—with the stuffing falling out of it—and propped her feet onto the cracked coffee table.
Her eyes drifted to the remains of her door. Instead of fixing it, the complex had the handyman slammed so many nails into the frame that it might take a battering ram to open. She couldn’t hire a repair man herself. She couldn’t pay this extra bill. All of her last paycheck had gone to skimming the interest on her student loans.
And to top it all off, she’d been fired from her awful job today. April had been at the top of her class in her design program at Parsons, and now she’d just been fired from a job that hinged on how ambitiously she could arrange her cleavage.
“What a life.”
***
Lana Bennet stood by her window, running her fingers through her long, shiny hair as she looked out over the Montrose.
“Okay, let me get this straight. You called your boss an impotent, wrinkled tangelo?”
“He made a deep grab for my ass and said he was ‘brushing off a hair,’” April protested.
Lana turned and crossed her arms. “That’s grounds for a lawsuit.”
“Lawyers are for people with the money to hire lawyers. If I could hire a lawyer, the first people I’d hit up are my apartment complex.”
“I will never get over you living in Gunspoint.”
April smirked. “It’s Greenspoint. And the rent is cheap.”
“Until you take into account that your television was stolen, and you can’t keep your valuables there.”
“Well, the TV was the only thing worth stealing. The latecomer thieves just made a mess.”
“You are too blasé about this! What if someone came in while you were there?”
April shrugged. Someone had come in through her balcony window once, but she wasn’t about to mention that to Lana. The girl would have a fit. “I have a taser.”
“You’re the worst.”
“And my neighbor, Rene, has his eye out for me.”
Lana wrinkled her nose. “The drug dealer?”
“To be fair, he’s the nicest drug dealer I’ve ever met. And yes, I’m counting your boyfriend from college.”
“Cheston was not a drug dealer!”
“He gave his friends speed for money.”
“Well... Yale is a hard school. They were struggling.”
“Not enough. I’d love to see a guy like that really struggle.” April ran her palms along the soft, plush fabric of Lana’s sofa. She and Lana met in college, but the circumstances of their lives were radically different. If anyone had told her growing up that her best friend would be a fashion major and a trust-fund baby, she might have smacked them.
“You know what? You should come stay with me! We had so much fun rooming together at Parsons!”
“Oh? Was that an experience you wanted to relive? I thought you were slumming it, living with us ‘dormies’ when your daddy could’ve gotten you a swanky apartment,” April teased.
“I was, but we still had fun.”
April bit her lip as she thought it over. She had never been good at asking for help, but Lana was offering, and it wasn’t like she was overwhelmed with options. Lana dropped down right next to her on the sofa and reached over to play with April’s blonde curls.
“C’mon. I have plenty of room. It’s not like you’d be a burden. And you have to get a new place. You can’t stay somewhere so dangerous!”
“Can I bring Damien?”
Lana shrugged. “As long as he doesn’t mind the Roomba.”
Knowing Damien, he would either spend his time chasing it or riding it, but no, he wouldn’t mind. That dog could put up with anything. He even liked cats, although cats didn’t much like him.
“Okay. If you want me, you’ve got me.”
***
“We’re back!” April yelled down the hallway. She wiggled a little, trying to keep her shorts from riding up too far on her. Even with her thighs bare and her thin, racerback tank top, April was drenched in sweat. There was nothing like a Texas summer.
April hefted the two stacked boxes in her arms and headed through the hallway to the den. “We hit some traffic on the way back. Sorry it took so long.” April grunted and set the boxes down by the pile of other boxes, then stretched her arms over her head. “I’ll get them unpacked this weekend.” She bent over, touching the floor with her palms. “I’d hate to mess up the Feng Shui of this gorgeous, spotless, miraculously air-conditioned haven from Houston’s poorly-maintained streets.”
“Hm,” rumbled a deep, amused voice. “Do you promise?”
“Do I…?” April turned and then flushed scarlet as she realized she’d just been flashing the backside of her short-shorts at Lana’s brother.
Samson Bennett sat there, smirking as he sprawled his six-foot-five frame across Lana’s sofa. April wanted to smack that look off his face, but as per usual, she was mute in his presence. She’d only seen him a few times before at Lana’s house during the holidays. But since he was twelve years their senior, he never stuck around to chat. He was in and out of the house, either with a different girl on his arm each time on his way to meet a woman before going to a meeting.
The man was as much a playboy as he was a businessman. You couldn’t get through the checkout line without seeing his face on a magazine related to one or the other.
“So you’re moving in with my baby sister.” He leaned forward and tented his hands.
“No, I’m robbing her place,”April’s voice dripped with sarcasm and she crossed her arms.
Samson raised his brows and tilted his head to the side. April tried to remain annoyed with him while he looked so coy and charming. Samson had his sister’s dark hair and dark eyes, although his hair only came just below his jawline… and what a well-cut jaw it was. As her embarrassment faded, April’s face continued to burn as her body reacted to Samson’s large, powerful form. It seemed out of place lounging about like that.
“You could’ve said you were here when I yelled,” she pointed out.
“I could have said ‘hello,’ I suppose. But it would’ve been strange, wouldn’t it? Some strange man yelling out of her apartment?”
“Strange, definitely, but it isn’t like I don’t know who you are.”
“Really?” Samson lifted his chin and sat up straight. “You’re a fan?”
“A fan? What?” Her face blanked in realization. “Oh, my God. Get over yourself, Samson. We’ve met!”
He raked his hand back through his hair as he rose to his feet. “Oh, no. I’d have remembered you.”
“Apparently not. I was Lana’s college roommate.” She paused, waiting for a light of recognition in his eyes that never came. “I stayed over? We had dinner at the same table on Christmas Eve during sophomore year. Well, part of it. Maybe you had too much champagne with Bunny before you sat down for five minutes and left before the main course.” April rolled her eyes. “Your mom was pretty upset.”
Samson strolled closer to April, practically casting a shadow over her. “Now, Bunny Bradshaw, I remember.”
“Good for Bunny. I have a few more boxes to bring up. My friend is holding the car.” April forced herself to look away from him, but she could still feel his body getting closer to hers. “Where’s Lana?”
“She went out to run an errand. She and I are going out to lunch now that I’m in town.” Samson stopped moving and leaned over a little, smiling like a Cheshire cat. “Would you like to come with us?”
He was so damn hand
some that April’s eyes were drawn back to his like magnets. Her heart thudded impetuously in her chest.
“After you get cleaned up, of course.”
April flatted her lips into a line. Samson’s smile was so slick, so confident, and he looked down on her like his baby sister’s dumb kid friend. Like he was humoring her.
“I have a lot of work to do here. You two enjoy.” April patted her pocket to make sure she had her keys. “Maybe you should go easy on the mimosas, though. Try to finish something you start.”
Samson stepped back. “I’m the CEO of the country’s largest design conglomerate!”
“Yes, yes, and the CEO of disposing of girlfriends like used tissues.” April leaned into the doorframe. “I’ll see you around. Probably in the tabloids, but that doesn’t bother you, does it?”
April’s palms were slick with sweat as she sauntered back down the hallway to the elevator. She didn’t know if she hoped he’d be there when she returned, or not.
Chapter Two
“So,” Samson said as he cut into his steak, “What does your roommate do? Besides bust balls? Is she a budding fashion designer like you?”
“No, she’s in architecture.” Lana balanced a small bite of lobster risotto on her fork.
“And she came down here from Parsons, to what? Room with you?”
Lana pinched her lips to the side. “She came down for a job. But you know how things are in Houston. The funding for the project she was hired on evaporated, and so did her job. She’s been living in the drabbest little apartment, I swear. You should see the outfit she goes to work in.”
Samson wondered if the outfit she had been wearing today was any indicator. Truthfully, he hadn’t remembered her at all until she mentioned that Christmas dinner. Now he had images in his mind of a girl wearing her curly blonde hair in pigtails, and pajamas with smiling cartoon sushi on them. There was no possibility that the girl had been dressed like that for Christmas dinner, so he must have seen her in Lana’s room at some point. But the girl he remember was far from the woman who had spoken to him so sharply less than an hour ago. The girl he remembered had been very young, a bit mousy, and seemed to tremble whenever he was near. No wonder he didn’t recognize her.
“Did she lay you out?” Lana asked with a smirk.
“Pardon?” Samson dabbed the sides of his mouth. “No, she did not. We just spoke for a few minutes. I forgot she used to spend time with you at the manor.”
Lana waved her fork around impishly. “You’re looking awfully thoughtful.”
“I am simply...” Samson folded his napkin as he chose his words. “...considering whether she would be a good fit for the company that we just acquired here. You should have her send in her resume.”
“Really? Looking to go another round?”
“I told you, nothing happened.”
“Then April went easy on you.”
Oh, right—her name was April. “Good. I need more people with some guts at Jones & Ramirez.”
“How long will you be staying?”
“As long as it takes to rebuild the infrastructure of the company. They’ve been running it like a buddy firm; not keeping up with paperwork and making handshake deals and the like. But our larger problem is a lack of innovation,” Samson sighed. “Location-wise, it was a good acquisition, but normally when I take over a company, I prefer their work to be more ambitious.”
“You’ll get that. April won an award for her senior project.”
“Excellent. Send her over as soon as you can get her to put on real pants.”
“Oh, wow. Do not say that in front of her!”
“She called me out for getting drunk and bailing on Christmas dinner that one time. I think she can handle it.”
Lana’s eyes lit up in delight.
***
It was over a week before Samson spotted April again, although he had her resume in his hand sooner. April Marie Lucas: Twenty years old, graduated from high school early with an academic scholarship despite working at coffee shop and an art studio for much of the time. Double major at Parsons, interned for a reputable firm during her schooling. Her resume wasn’t exhaustive, but it wasn’t the kind he might throw out of the pile, either. It was a resume that spoke to a lack of opportunities and a fight around every corner to get what she had.
Additionally, he liked what he saw in her senior project. Samson had ordered his secretary to find it for him, and while there were practical limitations that would have made the project a no-go from a business standpoint, he appreciated the creativity it took to transform a regular office building into a work of art. Moreover, every line of that plan had a practical function.
April intended for the building to both welcome workers and clients and draw the best productivity from them. Samson was more of a businessman than a creative, but he could see the potential in the work she had done.
When April entered the building for her interview, security alerted Samson and he opened the live feed on his computer. She was wearing a sharp pencil skirt that matched her suit jacket and a sleek blouse that looked like a print of an abstract painting. Her hair had been straightened and it swung primly around her shoulders. Try as she might, she would never look like a stiff businesswoman; she bore more of a resemblance to a model who had wandered away from her painter.
She never need know that he’d watched her initial interview with his hiring manager, Joan, before having his assistant, Babette, fetch her notes and tell April to wait for him outside of his office.
The interview was interesting. At first there was no glimmer of the feisty girl who had teased him—until Joan tried to ask personal questions.
“I’d prefer to take some time to get more information about your firm here. I know Samson Bennett’s overall conglomerate involves firms including real estate, architecture, and interior design, so basically the sales end and the design end. Where does Jones & Ramirez fall in the scheme of things? And what kind of projects are your top priority right now?”
Samson liked that flicker of temper and how she turned the conversation around to interview Joan about the company. It showed an employee who was mature, who knew what she wanted. As the conversation had progressed, it was clear that Joan didn’t like it quite so much, especially since April kept doing it. Her passive demeanor from before had disappeared, and she had followed each answer with another question or comment.
Samson looked forward to having a bit of a tête-à-tête with her.
His assistant, Babette, tried to pry for his intentions when he gave his orders, but Samson wasn’t about to go over his business practices with his secretary. Babette had always been too curious for her own good, anyway. He skimmed the papers and then went to stand by the window as he waited for April to be brought to him.
“Mr. Bennett? You wanted to see me?”
Samson didn’t turn yet. He let her wait before he even answered. He could practically smell her starting to sweat.
“Have a seat, April.” He let the moment linger before taking a slow stroll around to the side of the desk. “I’ve taken the liberty of looking over your application.”
“And you liked it?”
“It’s a bit sparse, to be honest.”
“Oh.”
Samson half-sat on the desk and leaned toward her. “Tell me more. I want to know who April Lucas really is.”
April’s fingers twisted in her lap. “I really am… looking for a job. Preferably in an architecture firm, which this is. And I really want to be able to work on projects that don’t involve constructing poorly-made pop-up houses and strip malls, which from what I’ve seen of your oeuvre, you don’t do. That’s it. That’s me.”
“Work isn’t all there is to a person, though.”
“It’s what you tend to ask about in a job interview, anyway.”
“Are you originally from Houston?” Samson raised his brows as she instinctively crossed her arms and tensed her jaw.
“No. I just... I thought I
had a job here.”
“More than just ‘thought’ if it made you move all the way down here from New York. Where are you from originally? Where did you stay during the summer?”
“I worked during the summer.”
Samson sighed and inched closer. “Where?”
“In a diner. As a bartender.” April shrugged. “You don’t put that kind of work on a professional resume.”
“That’s not…” Samson pinched the bridge of his nose. He walked over to stand in front of her. April’s stormy green eyes widened as she looked up at him.
“Are you looking for someone who can self-start? I can do that. Are you looking for a team player? I can do that, too, provided your team leader knows what he or she is doing. I’ll marry this job, Mr. Bennett,” she paused and the muscle in her jaw twitched. “You just have to tell me what you want from me.”
Samson watched her silently. He took in her heart-shaped face and the furrow in her brow. He listened to the hitch of her breathing. He made her nervous. That was good. But she also intrigued him. So much so that his curiosity might just be winning out over his business sense.
He could simply tell her to go away, that he had no space at the company for her. Lana would probably forgive him, since it had been his idea to interview April in the first place. And still...
“What do you think I want from you?” He looked down at her and crossed his arms. “Do you think I want business buzzwords? Do you think I want someone who will tell me what I want to hear?”
“I think if you want the latter, I probably wouldn’t be your best bet, since I have a knack for ticking my bosses off. But you can’t fault someone who both needs a job and wants one in her field for trying hard to get it.”
Samson shrugged. “I have to admit, enthusiasm can go a long way toward a good job.”
“I have enthusiasm coming out of my ears.”
“What a strange place for it,” Samson drawled.
April grinned. “Lana said this place didn’t have enough innovation. I know the area almost as well as the native Houstonians would, and I might not have a lot of professional experience, but from my internship, I know how to consult on projects that push the boundaries in architecture trends. I’m a good investment, but only if you have the guts to really use me.”