by Regina Cole
“You’re an ass, Tyler. I can’t believe I ever thought we could work.”
His face went an ugly shade of red, but she turned her back to him and slammed manuals back into their place on the shelf.
“You smug bitch. How dare you? I’m not the bi sex addict here. Seriously, Eliza, were you abused as a child? There’s no way shit like that is normal.”
A burst of laughter from the hallway shook her confidence for a second. She glanced at the still-open doorway.
A couple of the younger chemists were hurrying down the hall, but their hushed words carried anyway.
“. . . had heard she was bi, but I didn’t know she was an addict.”
“Yeah, I heard when she was gone she went to some swanky sex addiction treatment center in LA. Like that guy from Cali-fornication.”
She rounded on Tyler, her patience way past snapping. “Would you mind getting the fuck out of my lab? I have a job to do.”
Straightening his jacket, he nodded. “As long as we’re clear.”
“I’m definitely clear on the fact that you’re a selfish, grasping son of a bitch who’s—” Eliza bit off the rest of her retort. It wouldn’t do any good. Tyler wasn’t interested in the truth. When he’d started at Quality, no one had taken him seriously. After all, he was the boss’s son. But as soon as he’d started spreading rumors about Eliza, the employees had gone to him for the juicy tidbits. He’d eaten up the attention, and the stories got more and more outrageous. As Eliza’s reputation suffered, his own had grown. Oddly enough, it seemed that her ruined reputation had paved the way for his acceptance here.
Tyler walked toward the door, and Eliza cranked the knob on the instrument hard, wishing it was his damn arm she was twisting. But before he could leave the room, he turned and trained his icy stare on her.
“If I had my way, you’d have been out of here months ago. But for some reason Dad likes you.” Tyler snorted. “Did you offer to let him watch you and your new girlfriend together?”
Her brain fogged with a red haze of anger, and she looked around for something handy to throw at his head. But before her hand closed around a hefty book, Tyler had disappeared down the hallway.
Carefully setting the text down, Eliza held out her hands and watched them tremble. God, was something really wrong with her? Or was Tyler just a fucking asshole?
This was why she should have walked away from Chandler when she had the chance. How could she possibly think it was okay for him to be here, surrounded by the rumors Tyler delighted in stirring up?
Shaking her head, Eliza punched the Start button on the HPLC and picked up her purse from the little shelf behind the door. Time to go home and curl up with a pint of ice cream and some stupid TV. Chandler was going to Skype her later tonight, but maybe she should just skip it. She wasn’t the same girl she’d been in Hawaii, and when Chandler saw that, he wouldn’t want anything else to do with her.
So she’d stay alone the rest of her life. So what? Lots of people were happy alone.
Weren’t they?
“Thanks for all your help today,” Chandler called as Wendi pulled her jacket on.
“No problem, boss. Oh, and Gregory Trailwick called while you were in that meeting earlier. I stuck the message to your phone.” Wendi nodded at the desk where his cell usually lay.
“Great, thanks.”
Wendi waved and left the small office, the door swinging shut behind her.
Chandler glanced at the shiny black clock on the wall. It was after five. If he was going to make it to the post office before they closed, he’d have to hustle. The investigation he was on, looking into a shady accountant for a locally owned hotel chain, was winding down anyway. He could finish the details tomorrow morning. Bundling his jacket under his arm, he grabbed the box he’d stowed beneath his desk so Wendi wouldn’t see it, then left his office behind, locking the door behind him.
His name was posted in white letters on the door, the words Private Investigation beneath it. He’d been so proud when those letters had gone up, but now his work was the second most interesting thing in his life. The first just so happened to be a girl he’d met on a trip to Hawaii, one to whom he was determined to mail this package before he spoke to her tonight.
He hummed along to the radio as he drove. Eliza had seemed different the last couple of times they’d chatted, but he chalked it up to the stresses of home piling up on her. He knew how that went. His job could get hairy, and it had been nice to talk to someone about it. Of course, Eliza didn’t ever really share her problems with work, or friends. It was something they’d have to work on, just because Chandler knew she’d be happier if she could vent about things. Even if it wasn’t to him, he wanted her to get those things off her chest. They could both be happy; he was convinced of it. And he had a little surprise that should please her. At least he hoped so.
There was a line at the post office, of course. Chandler held the box in front of him, moving a foot forward every time someone advanced to the counter. Finally, just one person was left.
The clock ticked loudly on the wall, and he looked over at it. Damn, not enough time to pick up dinner on the way home before his Skype date. No biggie, he’d just throw a frozen pizza in the oven after he talked to Liza. Of course, that could be pretty late, but he didn’t mind. Time spent with her was much more fun than eating.
“Sir, can I help you?”
He’d been standing stock-still for much too long. An embarrassed smile crossed his face.
“Sorry about that, daydreaming. I need to send this priority, please.”
The woman didn’t even bat an eye, just plopped the box onto the scale. “Anything fragile, liquid, perishable, or potentially hazardous?”
“Um, no.” At least he didn’t think so. He hadn’t heard of anyone dying because of sex toys. Of course, anything was possible.
“That’ll be twelve-fifty.”
He swiped his credit card, thanked the woman, and pocketed the receipt. If all went according to plan, Eliza would have some interesting new toys in about three days. He couldn’t wait.
Driving much too fast, he made it home just in time to sit down in front of his laptop and boot up Skype. His heart thudded like he was a teenager about to climb into the backseat with the prom queen. Much too excited to be calling a girl. His girlfriend? No, that didn’t seem right. Eliza was all woman. Calling her his girlfriend somehow made her seem less important than she was, even though it was probably the best term for what they were to one another. After all, he wasn’t seeing anyone else and she’d made it clear that she wasn’t, either.
He clicked Eliza’s picture and selected “call.” The cheerful beeping tone sounded through his computer’s speakers, and he waited. The little screen in the upper right corner showed his webcam’s picture, and he frowned. Maybe he should have taken the time to shave.
The call picked up, and Eliza’s beautiful face appeared. She looked a bit tired, or maybe even sad.
“Hey,” he said, smiling warmly. Even with the corners of her lips drawn down, and dark circles under her eyes, she was the most beautiful woman on earth. When he closed his eyes at night, he could still smell her. Christmas couldn’t come soon enough.
“Hi.”
“Are you okay? You seem down.”
She sighed and pressed her chin into her palm. “Sorry, I had a rough day at work. I won’t be fun to talk to tonight. Could we maybe chat tomorrow?”
Hoping his disappointment wasn’t showing on his face, Chandler nodded. “Of course. But if you want to vent, I’m here. I’m a great listener, just ask Greg. He spends more time talking drunk than he ever does sober.”
Eliza gave a little laugh, raking a stray hair behind her ear. Even her ponytail looked listless. “It’s no big deal, really. Just office politics.”
Chandler nodded. “I get that. Used to happen a lot when I worked with a larger firm. But since I changed jobs, I get along really well with all my superiors. They agree with all my sugges
tions, let me take time off whenever I want, and even give me raises without having to ask for them.”
Eliza hiked a brow at him. “I thought you were self-employed.”
He grinned. “Guilty as charged. But hey, still applies. Could you maybe find a different company to work for?”
Crossing her arms, she leaned forward on the desk. His gaze wandered to the neck of her vee-cut tee, where her cleavage was on lovely display. God, she was gorgeous. He couldn’t wait to touch her again.
“There aren’t a ton of places for my line of work around here. It was lucky that I got on at Quality so early. And to be honest, I love the job I do. It’s just that, well, sometimes my coworkers are tough to deal with.”
Her voice got small at the end, and he had to strain to hear her.
Aw, damn. She was sad. His protective instincts came shooting to the fore. But what could he do? He knew nothing about her company or her job. It wasn’t like he could give her career advice.
But maybe there was one thing he could do.
“It might spoil the surprise, but do you want to know something?”
She looked straight at the screen, almost as if she could see through him. “What?”
“I sent you a little care package today. In the mail.”
A little smile curved her lips. “Really?”
He nodded. “I did. You should have it in a few days.”
“It’s not even my birthday. Why’d you do that?”
“Because I saw something that reminded me of you.” He didn’t bother to point out that he’d been shopping for said object for probably two weeks before he’d settled on the one currently making its way through the postal system to her. “It’s just a little warm-up for the trip. Something to remind you that there’s someone who’s thinking of you nonstop.”
Her eyes glowed with a warm light that he’d come to crave. “You’re a really nice guy, Chandler, you know that?”
“Don’t say that. I thought girls liked bad boys.”
Shaking her head vehemently, Eliza caused her webcam to shake. “Not at all. Assholes are appealing for a week or two, but nice guys? Much better. Especially nice guys who can pretend to be bad when they need to be.”
“Well, if you want a pretend bad boy,” he growled, “I’m your man. Bend over, baby.”
She did, waggling her ass at the camera while giggling. He mimed spanking her, and she collapsed in laughter.
“Thanks, Chandler. I needed that tonight.”
“Me too,” he said, relaxing into his desk chair, hands atop his head. “Ten more days and I can do that in person.”
She nodded. “Yup. Only ten days.”
He thought about asking her why she got quiet after that, but then decided he’d pried enough. Time would tell, and he could be patient. Although he was really getting tired of constantly reminding himself to bide his time.
He knew what—and who—he wanted.
22
Eliza hadn’t spoken to Chandler for a few days, and it was easy to tell. She was jumpier at work, too easily startled when someone ducked their head into her lab to ask her a question. Tyler was applying more and more pressure to her, almost as if he was trying to either get her fired or make her quit. She just put her head down and did her work as quickly and quietly as possible. Arguing would just make her look worse.
Tuesday, when she was finally finished with the seemingly impossible number of tasks for the day, she packed up and left the office. Tyler waved and called to her before she got to the door, but she pretended not to notice.
As she started her car, she wondered what Chandler was doing. Who he was with, what he was thinking. Whether he thought this long-distance thing was as hellish as she did.
It’d been hard to imagine that this could be as difficult for her as it had been. After all, she’d kind of gotten used to being alone. But those few days with Chandler had shown her how amazing being with someone could be, and that made the distance even harder to swallow. Knowing that there was a man out there like Chandler, and knowing that they couldn’t really be together sucked.
She missed him. And not talking to him had made it worse. He was busy, and she knew it, but his absence sharpened her longing.
Her stomach was in knots by the time she got home. Taking a few deep breaths, she exited the car and ran through the cold to her front stoop.
A box was there on the steps.
Warmth filled her chest as she remembered. That was right. Chandler had sent her a surprise. “A warm-up,” he’d called it, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. She loved that look on him. Made him look like a kid who was up to no good.
With a lightness she hadn’t known was possible, she picked up the box and unlocked the door. Humming to herself, she grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter and carefully slit the packing tape.
A letter lay atop some brown packing paper. She lifted it, examining the swirls of her name written in neat handwriting.
The paper crinkled as she smoothed it out and read.
Eliza,
This is for you. But I want to see your face when you open it. So don’t go any further. Skype me when you’re ready, so I can have the pleasure of seeing your beautiful face when you open the box.
Yours,
Chandler
What had he done? Eliza peered into the box, poking the paper with her index finger. No clue.
As excited as she was, as happy as this gesture made her, she stopped. Honestly, was there any point to getting even more attached to Chandler? Long-term, was there any way to pursue a relationship with him? She loved her home, despite its problems. She’d never ask Chandler to leave his, either. Would they still be having Skype dates years from now?
The thought of being apart that long made her set the knife down and slowly fold the box closed.
What should she do? With every day that passed, she found herself more and more drawn to him. Would it be smarter for them to just end this now, rather than prolong the eventual pain of their parting?
“Shit.”
She had no freaking clue. What she needed was a little time to figure out what was going on inside her head and her heart. She needed clarity.
She needed to get drunk. But without a buddy, she wasn’t about to find her way to the bottom of a bottle of wine alone. So she picked the next best thing. She shed her clothes on the way to the bathroom and stood under the scalding-hot spray for a solid half hour.
The steam curled as it rose around her, and her skin turned pink from the high temperature. She scrubbed herself from head to toe, even washing her hair three times. But eventually the warm water ran low, and she had no choice but to leave the sanctity of the shower stall.
Wiping her palm across the steamed-up mirror, Eliza looked at herself. She looked confused and tired. Despite the emptiness of her water heater, she was no closer to an answer. But who else could she ask about any of this?
A name popped into her head. There was probably a long list of reasons why she shouldn’t bother that person right now, but Eliza didn’t have much other choice.
She threw on a long T-shirt and a pair of panties, then grabbed her cell. There were only four names in her favorites list, and she picked the third one without hesitation.
Bree picked up on the fourth ring.
“Hey, sunshine! Oh my gosh, I haven’t talked to you in forever!”
“Hey, Bree.” The lead feeling in Eliza’s guts lifted just a little. She tucked her feet beneath her and leaned back on her bed. “How was the honeymoon?”
“It was . . . Well . . .” An odd note entered Bree’s voice, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. “It was great! Really spectacular. So, how are you? Anything happening in Smalltown, USA?”
“Well . . .” Eliza drew circles inside one of the flowers on her comforter. “I’ve been talking to Chandler a lot since I got back.”
“Ooh, really? Do tell.”
So Eliza did. She didn’t go into detail, but she did le
t Sabrina know how close they’d become before leaving Hawaii. And then the whole Skyping thing, which was good, but then it wasn’t, because she missed him even more. And when Eliza told her about Tyler’s stepping up his insults, Bree lost her shit.
“Are you fucking kidding me? How is that asshole still your boss?”
“Because his dad owns the fucking company.”
“Did you ever complain to HR about him?”
“How can I, Sabrina?” The anxiety was back, so Eliza jumped up and started pacing in front of her closet. “He’s not going to be punished. If anything, I’ll be considered the problem and let go. Harold’s done that kind of thing before for Tyler. And if Tyler hasn’t already told him about my weird, well, fetish, I don’t want to be the one who lets him in on it.”
“For the last freaking time, Liza, it’s not a weird fetish. Plenty of people get off on stuff like that. Hang on a second.” Bree’s voice went muffled for a moment as if she’d covered the mouthpiece of the phone and was talking to someone else. Her voice got sharp, angry, but even though Eliza strained she couldn’t understand her friend’s words. In a minute, though, Bree was back.
“Sorry about that. Little misunderstanding with the husband. Anyway, as I was saying, you’re perfectly normal. You like Chandler, don’t you?”
“I do.” Eliza stopped in front of the dresser, staring at herself in the mirror. Her damp hair was leaving dark splotches on her aqua shirt. “But I just don’t know how we’re going to get past this distance thing. And if it goes south, I don’t want Chandler to see me like Tyler does now. I’ve already told him too much, and I can’t stand the thought of him hating me.”
“He won’t.”
“How can you know that?”
“Because Tyler is a bag of dicks, and Chandler isn’t. I know it’s scary. I know.” Bree’s tone was soothing now, and Eliza shut her eyes and breathed deeply.