by Claire Adams
“Archer,” he said.
“This is Zoe. She’s here to get as drunk as possible and go home with a sexy guy like you, but she’s too shy to say so. You should hit her over the head with a club and take her back to your cave.”
“Chloe!”
“What? You weren’t going to say anything.”
“That doesn’t… Jesus.” I sat back in my chair. “You’re not getting with me tonight,” I told him.
“I’m not your type?”’
“No, you are,” Chloe interjected. “She’s just stubborn and uptight because she forgot what it means to have fun.”
“Chloe.” I tensed up. “Why don’t you go talk to Archer’s friend?”
“Is he taken?” she asked.
“No,” he said, laughing. “He’s kind of a lone wolf.”
“Good.” She walked off, her hips moving to the music.
“You’re not going to ask me to dance, are you? I have two left feet.”
“I have three,” he said, a little playfully.
“Thank God.”
He leaned in, suddenly serious, with his eyes trained on mine. My stomach jumped. “Tell me.” His voice was soft and dark, like hot fudge. “Are you really here to meet somebody?”
“No,” I said.
“Good, cause I like a challenge.”
A man like him would never accept no for an answer. I was powerless to stop him, and he knew it. He just wanted to play with me before he took me home, like a cat that lets a mouse get far enough away to make them think they’re safe before the cat pounces on top of them.
“Where are our drinks?” I asked. He was so close, less than two feet away, giving me a wicked grin.
“Look.” He pointed to something behind me. Rick and Chloe were walking up, both of them holding shots of something clear and dangerous looking.
“We should make our escape,” he said.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. Wait, what do you mean by escape?”
“You’re coming home with me,” he said. “Maybe we could do it sooner rather than later.”
“I like to draw it out a little bit, take my time, you know?”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
“Here.” Chloe handed me a shot that smelled like rotten vomit.
“Oh, no,” I said. “Not tequila.”
“It’s on special,” Rick said.
“Fine.” I grabbed the shot and waited for everyone else to take one. Archer waved his away.
“To partying.” Chloe lifted her shot glass.
“To partying.” I clinked mine against hers and Rick’s.
As far as I was concerned, there was nothing in this world that was quite as disgusting as tequila. It went down slow, snagged my gag reflex, and hit my stomach hard. I had to hunch over just to keep from getting sick.
“God, I hate that stuff.” Rick slammed his shot glass down and grabbed his beer. “Come on,” he said, motioning for Chloe to go dance with him.
“I want you gone by the time I get back,” she told me. “And don’t come back until you’re good and happy again.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Chloe rolled her eyes and walked off.
“No, I think you are,” Archer said in my ear.
I was, and he knew it.
“You’re a little cocky; you know that?”
“Do you like cocky men?” he asked.
“Depends on how big they are.”
I could smell his cologne when he moved closer, like fresh, good leather with a hint of pine. He was so close now that I could feel the heat coming off his body. It was like standing next to a white-hot flame. Then he leaned in closer, his rough cheek brushed mine, and he whispered into my ear. “You wanna find out?”
That did it. “Let’s go.” I stood up.
“Nice.”
I let him wrap his arm around my waist as he led me through the crowd and out into the street. He pulled out his phone.
“Are you calling a cab?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “I’m calling my driver.”
“You have a driver? Are we going to a mansion?”
“Yes,” he said.
“You know what? No. I’m going back inside.”
He grabbed my wrist when I turned around. “Look.” He pointed at a black sedan pulling around the corner. I’d never seen the model before. It looked custom made, something that only the richest of the rich could afford.
“No way.”
“Yeah, come on.” He waved the driver down, and the car stopped in front of the club. Archer opened the passenger door for me. There were TV screens embedded in the back of the front seats. “Are you coming?”
I didn’t even notice that I was gawking. “Uh.” I shook my head, still shocked. “I guess.”
“Good,” he said.
I got in and took a seat next to him. “You’re not a drug dealer or anything, are you?”
“No,” he said. “I’m much worse than that.”
“What do you mean?” I pulled away to get a look at him.
“Maybe I’ll tell you sometime.”
“Well, I want to know what I’m getting myself into.”
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He wrapped his arm around my waist, and I rested my head on his shoulder.
“I haven’t done this in years.”
“Neither have I,” he said. I sat up to get a look at him. His eyes were red and droopy, and his head was low. I was entering this man’s world without any idea what that would mean, and it frightened me. It also excited me. My whole life was based on safety and stability. I didn’t take risks.
“Tell me something about yourself,” he said.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Anything.”
“I have a bakery just a couple blocks away from the club.” It was the only thing I could think of to say.
“Hmm, sounds nice.”
“It isn’t. It’s terrible, honestly, but it was my dream, so I’m not giving up on it.”
“You’re ambitious.”
“Definitely. My pastries are going to become a household name.”
“You know,” he said, moving away to look me in the eye. “I almost believe you.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. I know what it takes to become successful. I see it so much I can smell it. You have something.”
“Thank you.” I wasn’t sure I believed him. I was struggling to hold things together, but I needed that reassurance. “Are we really going to a mansion?” I asked.
“Is that a big deal?”
“No, I’ve just never met anyone like you. It’s kind of interesting.”
“It’s really not. I’d prefer to be poor and happy now that I know what it’s like to be rich.”
“You’re not happy?”
“I don’t know. I guess I am.” He didn’t seem happy. He looked like I felt—exhausted and burnt out—but it was nice having a hunk of muscle like him doting on me. He looked at me for a moment, stopped, and hesitated. Then he dove in fast and pressed his lips to mine. They were soft and gentle. His tongue moved forward, parted my lips, and made its way through.
I felt like I was flying and that nothing else existed but that kiss and the man behind it. Who was he that he could inspire such passion in me? The kiss was too short, too simple. It wasn’t enough, but he was pulling away. He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes while we drove the rest of the way back to his house.
He really did live in a mansion. I could see the house’s cobblestone façade when we pulled up to the security checkpoint. It was three stories with orange lights casting beams over the tailored hedges in front, and a fountain sat at the center of the wrap-around driveway.
“I told you.” He sat up.
“I can’t believe this.”
“Wait till you see inside.” The driver parked the car, and Archer got out to open my door for me. The gravel crunched under my feet as we made our way to the
massive front door. On either side of the house were paths lined with trees and flowers, their brightly colored petals open and glowing in the midnight light.
“Here.” Archer opened the door for me.
I had to take a second to gather my bearings. I’d never seen a house as magnificent as Archer’s. The crystal chandelier above my head was casting a tapestry of rainbow light that swayed across the white marble floor, sending beams up the grand staircase and into the darkened living room on my right. “This is beautiful.”
“Thank you. I’m not really a decorator though. I had one of my staff members put it together.”
“I hope you gave them a bonus.” He was leaning against the wall, his head low.
“I did. You wanna see what’s upstairs?” He came to life again.
“I don’t know.” I stepped closer and met his eyes. “You sure you can handle this?”
“Me handle you? You’re going for a ride.” Suddenly, he had me off my feet, cradled in his arms.
“What are you doing? No, let me down.”
“Nope.” He smirked. “You’re coming with me.” He started walking toward the stairs. I had half a mind to punch him and run. I felt vulnerable, but I liked the way it felt when I rested my head against the ridges of his chest. He was so warm.
He carried me up the stairs to the third floor, where he opened his door and let me down onto my feet. “I want you,” he said. “I want you so fucking bad.” He pressed his lips to mine, and suddenly he was walking backward, his arms around me, guiding me toward the bed where he collapsed with his arms behind his head. I hopped onto the bed and straddled him. He reached up and clamped his fingers down on my nipple.
“Oh, God.”
“You like that?”
“Uh-huh.” I bit my bottom lip and let my eyes roll over his broad shoulders, his massive chest, and finally his bulge. He followed me closely, his arm wrapped behind me.
“Strip for me.”
“You want me to take off my clothes?”
“Dear God, yes.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He was bulging out of his jeans.
I got up slowly and swung my hips back and forth as I lowered the strap on my left shoulder, then my right. He was lying back enjoying the show while he rubbed his bulge.
I turned around and bent down, giving him a clear view of my butt while I took off my shoes. I expected him to spank me or something. Instead, when I turned back, he was asleep.
At first, I didn’t know what to think. Was it drugs? No, I would’ve known. He seemed so exhausted back in the car. Maybe it was a lack of sleep, something I could definitely identify with.
I sat down at the end of the bed to get my shoes on. He didn’t tell me anything about himself, what he did for a living, where he was from—nothing. He was a complete mystery. How did he get this rich? What drove him to become the man he was? Maybe I could learn something from him and finally get a chance to climb out of my rut.
The evening might not have gone the way we planned, but I wasn’t going to walk away without getting something out of it. I grabbed a pen and paper from on top of the desk in the corner and wrote down my number. Then, I called a cab to take me home.
Chapter Seven
Archer
I drowned in a pool of images. I saw the woman. She was blond and tall, but I couldn’t remember her name. Snippets of conversation came back to me. She told me she owned a bakery, and that she hated it. Little details were no problem, but there was no chronological order to the events of last night, and there were pieces missing in my head.
“Oh, no.” I opened my eyes and sat up in bed. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t drink a single drop of alcohol last night. I would’ve remembered that, but I felt like I blacked out. Why? Was something wrong with me? Should I have gotten a checkup? The only explanation I could think of was that I was so tired that I was nodding off, but she didn’t notice. Did she? Maybe she did, and she didn’t say anything, or maybe she did, and I didn’t remember.
I could still smell her perfume, like sandalwood and vanilla. She was in my room. I knew that much, but we didn’t have sex. My pants were still on. She must’ve left when I passed out. I tried to remember her name while I made my bed. She told me. I was sure she did, but I must’ve spaced out.
I stood up to inspect my bed. It was perfect. When I turned around, I saw a neatly folded piece of paper sitting on my nightstand. It had her number written on it, and her name—Zoe. I held it up, staring at her bubbly handwriting. I wanted to call her, but I knew that I couldn’t. There was no way that a woman who worked as much as she probably did would ever stick around once she found out I was a father. She had a business to run, just like I did.
I knew that I had to forget about her, but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of her number. I saved it in my phone and started getting ready. Mona had texted me last night to tell me that the boys were fine and that she wanted to bring them by when I got off so she could give them some time to rest. I texted her back and told her that it was okay. It would give me some quiet time to get my head straight while I got ready.
I kept trying to put the pieces back together, focusing as hard as I could on what happened, but all I got was a blank space and some vague notion that I made an ass out of myself. Images did come, but they weren’t very clear. I saw lights moving over a dark bar, a strange man with thick glasses. Now I remembered. He was trying to talk to Zoe, but she didn’t want him to, and her friend was ready to attack him. I had a pretty good idea about what happened last night. I just didn’t like the idea of not knowing everything. I was used to being in control.
The phone calls started early. The Navy was testing the Hawkeye, and the higher-ups had a million questions about the device. The office workers were just as bad. There were some board members coming in that afternoon, and they were all running around trying to make sure that everything was perfect. Now that I’d finally gotten some sleep, I had a chance to make up for the time I lost at work. I worked as fast as I could, sending message after message, making as many phone calls as possible. There was no time to waste.
When I got to the office, things were in better order. Several people were waiting to speak with me in the hallway outside my office. I listened to each one, offered them the best solutions I could, and moved on. People were mostly concerned about whether or not they were going in the right direction. That was the important thing at Sans Contracting. We had to push out new technology as consistently as we could, which meant that we had to focus our research on obtainable goals that we knew would get results. It wasn’t easy. Most of the time we had to focus on improving existing technology rather than creating something new.
Angela was on the phone when I walked into the reception area. She waved me down and motioned for me to come over to where she was sitting. “Just a second,” she said, before putting the phone on mute. “That guy from the testing department has been looking for you.”
“Did he say why?”
“Something about the Hawkeye. He wouldn’t tell me.”
“Oh, all right.” I grabbed the coffee she had set out for me and carried my things to my office. So far as I knew, the Hawkeye was working the way it was supposed to. There were no signs of glitches, and if there were, Rick would’ve caught them by now. I’d never admit it to him, but he was my best mechanic.
I went over my messages, called everyone I could, and started on the stack of forms. I wanted to get as much done as I possibly could before I walked down the warehouse, and I was making good headway when I heard the knock on my door.
“Come in.”
Angela opened the door and walked in. “The guy from the testing department is here to see you.”
“Tell him to come in.”
Rick looked like hell. His eyes were baggy with half-moon circles weighing down his cheeks and eyes so red he looked like he’d been smoking weed for a month straight. He slumped down into the chair across from me.
“H
ow’s your head?” I asked.
“Like something’s piercing through my skull.” He lifted his hand to block off the light from the window behind me.
“Tell me.” I leaned back casually. “How could anyone as stupid as you possibly get through the Navy?”
“I was gonna say the same thing about you.”
“Did you, do it?” I asked.
“Do what?”
“Oh, come on. That girl was fine as fuck, and she was all over you.”
“Nah, I got too drunk and had to call a cab back. She left right after.”
“Ooh.” I cringed.
“What about you? I saw the way that girl was looking at you. She wanted you bad.”
“She did,” I reaffirmed.
“So?”
I sighed. “I don’t think we did anything.”
“What do you mean, you don’t think? You either did it, or you didn’t.”
“I don’t remember. I think I passed out before we could.”
“Dude…”
“You remember how I was. I can’t even remember everything that happened; it was so hazy.”
“That sucks. Maybe we should try again.”
“Nah, it’s not worth it.”
“You like her,” he said.
“I don’t know. She didn’t seem to mind that I passed out. In fact, she left her number on my nightstand.”
“Call her.” He met my eyes. “I don’t care what you’re worried about. You want this girl, and she wants you. What more could you ask for?”
“A chance.”
“Whatever.” Rick wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Look, I’ve got some ideas for the Hawkeye. I was hoping to run them by you.”
“All right.”
“We’ve got every sensor we want, and we’re constantly expanding on them and building more, but each one is its own separate unit, which raises costs and forces the Navy to pay more for our products. I was thinking that we could integrate all the sensors into one unit. That way, we can save space, lower the cost of the unit, and work on one sensory device that we upgrade at regular intervals.”
“You’re a genius.”
“So, you’re gonna tell the board?”
“I’m gonna get to work on it right away.”