by Cassidy Coal
"I want to wake up like this every morning," Tyler mumbled, his chest vibrating under her ear.
"Me, too," Sarah said with a deep, contented sigh.
"So stay."
Sarah sat up and stared down at him, holding the sheet to her chest. "What do you mean?"
"Don't go back to the States." He ran his fingers through her hair and stared deep into her eyes. "Stay in Sydney with me. And come with me when I go to Hong Kong next month. And to Europe after that."
She shook her head. Partially to tell that small voice in her head screaming, "Yes, do it," to shut the fuck up.
"Tyler. I can't. I've been gone for almost a month now. I've been helping out some from here, but there's only so much I can do with the time difference. Horowitz needs me back there yesterday. And Fiona won't let me work in her department for another moment past what she has to."
Her mother would never let her live it down either.
He ran a finger along her jaw line, a small smile quirking the corner of his lips. "Then quit."
Sarah stared at him. "What?"
"Quit. You don't need to work. I'll take care of you. Quit and come with me." He ran his hand down her arm, his eyes roving over her body.
Sarah jumped out of bed, wrapping the sheet around herself like a shield. She shook her head as she paced back and forth, trying to master her emotions.
He sat up. "Sarah, what's wrong? Why are you so upset?"
She whirled around to stare at him. "You told me to quit my job. Like it's nothing."
"Well, if that's the only way we can be together…" He shrugged. Like it really was that simple.
She stopped and stared at him. "I'm good at what I do."
"I know." He smiled at her. "You're our best forensic accountant."
She knew he meant it as a joke, referring to Horowitz's reason for sending her on that fateful trip to Paris. (The real reason had been she was single and was the easiest to shaft on Christmas Eve. Not that she didn't do a good job, but still…)
"You'd just have me quit. So I can, what? Follow you around like your little pet? Be there at your beck and call?" She turned away so he wouldn't see the look of disgust on her face. She was shaking she was so furious.
"Don't make it sound like that, Sarah." Tyler came to stand behind her, pulling her into his embrace. "I love you. I love spending time with you. I don't want to be apart from you." He kissed her shoulder.
She stepped away from him, arms crossed tight across her chest. "Then create a position that lets me travel with you. Don't ask me to quit my job."
He stared at her, his eyebrows forming a sharp V shape. "I can't do that, Sarah. What position could I create for you that anyone would take seriously? They'd all see right through that. Why can't you just come with me?"
She laughed bitterly. He didn't get it. Of course not. He'd never been poor. He'd never wondered where he was going to sleep that night. Or whether he'd have electricity or running water next month. He didn't understand how tempting it was to quit fighting so hard and just say yes, just let some rich man pay for everything.
She glared at him. "What happens when you get sick of me? Hm. What then?"
He shook his head. "I'm not going to get sick of you, Sarah. I love you."
She rolled her eyes.
"I do." He reached for her again, but she stepped away.
She frowned, shaking her head slightly. "I don't doubt that you love me now, Tyler. But people change. Will you love me in a month? Or six months? Or a year?"
"I don't know." He shrugged. "I think so, yes. But I can't guarantee that."
"But you'd have me throw everything away so I can be with you." She stared at him, searching for any sign that he understood what he was asking of her.
His lips pressed into a firm line. "Is it money? Is that why you won't come with me?"
She turned away, refusing to answer.
"I'll give you a living allowance then." His voice was hard, clipped. "Ten thousand a month enough? Use it how you want."
She closed her eyes and bowed her head, such a complex storm of emotions washing through her body that it made her ill.
She wanted him to stop talking. To just shut up now before he ruined everything.
But he kept going. "And I'll have my lawyers put something together so that if we ever break-up you'll get a separation payment. How much is enough? Fifty thousand? Sixty? Tell me what it'll take to make you say yes, Sarah."
He placed his hands on her shoulders, but she jerked out of his grip and turned around, her face blotchy with fury.
"You want to know how much it'll cost to buy me? I don't know, Tyler. How much do high-end companions cost these days? A woman who travels with you and is on demand 24-7. Always at your beck and call. How much does a woman like that go for in your world?"
She pushed past him and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Only then did she let herself cry.
She curled up on the floor, her back resting against the door, and sobbed, great heaving gasps of air that she prayed he couldn't hear.
He didn't get it. He was trying to make it right, trying to do something nice so they could be together.
And it was nice. The thought of traveling the world with Tyler…It was amazing, it was wonderful.
And the things she could do with ten thousand dollars a month…Or fifty thousand dollars for that matter. Help her mom finally get out of that damned trailer park. Set up college funds for her nieces and nephews. Pay off her student loans.
But he didn't understand what he'd done.
He'd taken the love growing between them, something fragile and beautiful and delicate, and he'd crushed it. He'd turned what they had into a business transaction.
If she said yes, he'd no longer be her boyfriend, the man she loved and wanted to spend time with.
He'd be the man who paid for her time. The man she depended on for everything. A man who could destroy her and leave her behind with the snap of his fingers.
Every time they disagreed, she'd have to stop and ask herself if it was worth it to fight with him. Worth the risk of losing his financial support for that little issue.
And what issue was worth losing ten thousand dollars a month?
None.
He'd turn her into a shell of herself.
And probably leave her because of it.
And when it was over? Where would she go? Who would hire her? What choice would she have but to move on to another man like Tyler, to turn into a leach, sucking money from the next man and the next one after that?
She stood up. She couldn't do it. As much as she loved him and wanted to say yes, she couldn't.
She turned on the shower and buried herself under the hot stream of water, closing her eyes and letting it cleanse her, wash away all the hurt and pain.
She knew he wouldn't understand. But she knew she had to say no, had to go back to the States, to her accounting job working for Mr. Horowitz.
When she finally came out of the bathroom an hour later, Tyler was sitting on the patio, his iPad in his lap, marking up a memo.
She sat down in the chair next to his and stared out at the beautiful scene before her. Green grass stretched down to a large, broad, slow-moving river. A tree-covered hill rose into the clear blue sky on the other side of the river, a handful of hikers visible on a trail running along its side.
It was so peaceful, so beautiful. She never wanted to leave this place.
She grabbed Tyler's forearm and leaned close, waiting for him to look at her. When he finally did, she saw the hurt and confusion, and, yes, anger, there.
"I'm sorry, Tyler. I love you. And I want to be with you. But…" She swallowed and looked away. How could she explain this to him? How could she explain that deep-seated fear that if she let go, if she relied on someone, anyone else, that they'd let her down, that they'd fail her and leave her broken and alone?
She bit her lip and took a deep breath, meeting his eyes with hers. "I can't let m
yself rely on anyone else to take care of me, Tyler. It's…" She shook her head. "I just can't do that. It's not that I don't love you, because I do. It's…I just can't do it."
He frowned at her slightly, but he rested his hand on hers. "I understand, Sarah. I mean, I don't. Not really. I wish you loved me enough to come with me. But I still love you and I still want to be with you, however I can."
He stared off into the distance for a long moment.
"We can still make this work," she said softly, half statement, half question.
He nodded. "We can." He flashed his beautiful smile at her, his eyes bright and shining but with just a hint of doubt hiding deep in their depths.
She leaned forward and kissed him—a long, slow kiss showing him everything she felt that she couldn't put into words.
He growled under his breath, shaking his head. "You know, if I let myself, I'd spend the rest of my life holed up in a cabin with you somewhere making love to you over and over again."
She laughed, the sound spiraling up into the perfect blue sky to join the birds singing somewhere in the distance.
"So why don't you?" she asked, stroking his arm.
"Because sometimes it's good to be denied a bit. Makes me appreciate what I have that much more."
She laughed. "Is that so?"
"It is."
They started at each other for a long moment, both smiling slightly, before Sarah said, "Well, then. Mr. Corrigan what should we do today to deprive ourselves so that we can appreciate each other that much more tonight?"
"How about a skydive?" He glanced up at the perfect blue sky. "You did say you wanted to do one…"
"A skydive, huh?" She studied his face for a moment, searching for any lingering hurt, but didn't see any.
He nodded. "What do you say, Ms. Baxter? Are you up for another adventure with me?"
"I'm always up for another adventure with you, Mr. Corrigan." She leaned forward and kissed him, losing herself in the sensation of her lips on his, in the way their bodies fit so perfectly together. "But maybe we can leave in an hour or so?"
She ran her hand down his arm, staring deep into his eyes. "I have a few more things I'd like to try here while I have you alone."
He kissed her—long and slow and deep. "Okay, but just an hour or so."
She laughed at the intensity in his beautiful green eyes.
They'd be lucky if they were done by dinnertime.
A Mile High Rendezvous
Sarah Baxter tapped her pen on the conference room table as she absent-mindedly chewed on her lip. She was dying to get out of there. It was 4:15 and she had a flight to catch. A flight to Paris to spend the weekend with her incredibly sexy boyfriend, Tyler Corrigan.
She hadn't seen him in three weeks and the wait was killing her. There was only so much satisfaction a girl could get from Skype chats even when the guy on the other end of the computer was as beautiful and amazing as Tyler.
He was perfect in every way. Except for that whole billionaire head-of-a-multi-national-conglomerate thing. She could've passed on that. Keep the sexy, lose the entitled money side of things.
But it was what it was.
"Ms. Baxter? Are we keeping you from something?" Mr. Horowitz interrupted her reverie.
Usually he looked like a kindly version of Santa Claus with the glasses and his white hair, but lately he'd reminded her more of a very disappointed father who knew his daughter was sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with some boy but wasn't going to confront her on it.
It's not like she'd lied to him. She hadn't been sleeping with Tyler when she went to Australia. It's just that seeing Tyler again and hearing how much he'd missed her and still wanted her had led to them getting back together. (Which then led to her blowing off her job for a long weekend in New Zealand during one of the busiest accounting periods of the year.)
"I'm sorry, Mr. Horowitz. It's just…it's Friday afternoon and…"
She glanced around the room at the other members of the accounting team—all boring, quiet types with short mousy brown hair and conservative white dress shirts (even the women) who had no plans for the weekend except heading home to their 2.2 kids and equally-boring spouses.
Was she the only one who believed in wearing a little color in the office? She had on a hot pink top and bright blue skirt today. And why not? Had to have a little fun somehow. Unfortunately, her hot pink top stuck out like a sore thumb amongst all the whites and blacks and navies of her co-workers.
Even the secretary at the front desk wore black and white every day.
She should be used to standing out by now, but she wasn't. Walking the tonified halls of Corrigan, Inc. made her feel like she was wearing a neon-orange sash across her chest that read "Trailer Park Queen – Doesn't Belong."
Horowitz stared her down. "We need to get this report out today, Ms. Baxter. Do you have somewhere else you'd rather be?"
Yes.
But she couldn't say that.
"No, sir. I'm sorry. Please. Continue."
Two frickin' hours later, Sarah finally escaped that stifling hot, confined space. As she grabbed her coat and her overnight bag, she heard a gentle cough and whirled around to see Mr. Horowitz standing there. She jumped backward, startled that he'd managed to surprise her.
"Mr. Horowitz. Something I can do for you?"
He grimaced. "Perhaps it would be best if we talked in my office."
She stared at him, biting her lip. She was supposed to fly out in one hour; if she left right now she'd still make the flight. But if she stayed for even ten more minutes she wouldn't. Sure, she was taking Tyler's private jet and was the only passenger, so not like they wouldn't wait for her. But…
But that wasn't the point. The point was she didn't want to stay in the office ten more minutes. She wanted to leave as soon as possible so she could land as soon as possible so she could see the man she loved and spend as much time with him as she could before she had to turn around and come back home.
Unfortunately, that wasn't the type of thing you told your boss, even if your boyfriend was his boss.
"Um…Can I make one quick phone call first? And then I'll be right there."
Horowitz nodded and walked away. Was it her imagination or were his shoulders slumped as if he had another person or two perched on them? Poor guy. They'd had one hell of a year between the Paris accounting scandal and some last-minute changes to the FASB standards. And then here she was, his go-to girl, daydreaming about long days spent in bed with her boyfriend instead of focused on her work.
She hated the fact that she wasn't doing as well at her job as she used to. But…
She was in love.
It was easy to work long hours and completely focus on the latest ALLL calculation when the only other thing you had to think about was what you were going to get your brother for his birthday or what you were going to make for Sunday lunch at Mom's. Now she found it almost impossible to care about anything work-related.
Let someone else agonize about what interest rate to use in the projections for the next fiscal year.
Honestly. Who wanted to waste their life on things like that?
Of course, this job was all that stood between her and sleeping on the couch in her mom's double-wide trailer.
Oh, sure, Tyler would step in and rescue her if she managed to get fired. Happily and willingly. (Too happily.) But she didn’t want that. She was her own woman and she'd sworn to make her way through life without any man's help.
Which meant she needed to start caring about things like interest rates and year-end adjustments before she permanently lost her boss's confidence.
She called the jet and let Daphne know she was going to be delayed and then rushed down the hall to Horowitz's office.
"Sir? You wanted to see me?"
He glanced up at her. "Yes. Please. Have a seat." He pushed his glasses back up his nose as she settled herself on the edge of the seat, smoothing her skirt down where it had bunched up ov
er her ample hips.
Horowitz glanced at her and then back down at his desk. He steepled his fingers under his chin and studied her.
"Sarah, this isn't easy for me to say…"
She waited, dreading the words that were about to come out of his mouth.
"You know, I think of you like one of my daughters. And I'm proud of you. You're a little rough around the edges, but given time you can be a brilliant accountant. You can go far in your career."
"Thank you, sir."
She tried to focus on the positives in what he'd said—that she could go far and was brilliant—and ignore the comment about how rough she was. It wasn't her fault no one in her family had ever worked in a corporate environment before. How was she supposed to know that genuine emotion and opinions were frowned upon? It wasn't exactly easy to overcome twenty-five years of openness and honesty, especially when there were times that someone needed to point out the obvious.
Horowitz sighed deeply. "Unfortunately…." He looked away from her and back again. "Your performance has been slipping lately."
When she went to respond, he held up his hand. "I don't need or want excuses. What I want is to see that brilliant go-getter I hired. Whatever it is that's distracting you, fix it. I'm not going to put you on performance review just yet, but…If things continue this way, I'll have to."
"Performance review?" Sarah stared at him. Last year she'd received an Exceptional on her annual evaluation and now he wanted to put her on review? "I'm not…"
What could she say? That she wasn't slipping? That she was still exceptional?
She wasn't.
He was right.
Here she was, just starting her career, and she was fucking it up. And for what? A man?
She knew better. Her dad had died when she was two leaving Sarah's mom to raise four kids on her own. He'd been killed in a bar fight. (Stepping in at the wrong moment to try to help a friend). He hadn’t wanted to abandon his wife and kids, but that's what had happened.