by Susanna Carr
Whoever dumped her stuff on the wet lawn didn’t care if they scratched her table or walked on her bed sheets. The carelessness, the intentional disregard for her things, dug at her like a splinter.
There wasn’t a whole lot of stuff. That was the first coherent thought that floated over the multiple layers of pain. Her life was strewn before her, and this was all she had accumulated? Could this really be all of it? Molly was about to race inside when she saw her friend Bonita.
“Molly, what happened?” Bonita asked as she hurried up the sidewalk.
“I was…” The word zapped the strength right out of her. Molly sagged against the back of the sofa. She looked forlornly at her basement apartment. There was no going back. She never liked the place, but leaving it like this—abruptly and unwillingly—made her feel lost. Confused. Scared. “I was evicted.”
“No way.” Bonita looked at the furniture and clothes dumped in the yard. “I thought you were going to sweet-talk your landlord.”
“I did. He said he was going to stop the process.”
“Maybe the marshals got here before he could reach them?”
“No, I bet he lied to me.” Molly pushed off the sofa as the indignation washed over her. “I went through this whole story of being hospitalized for leprosy and the guy lies to me!”
Bonita’s eyes widened. “Are you sick?”
“No, but that’s beside the point.” Molly covered her face with her hands. “What am I going to do?”
“You can stay with me.”
Molly dragged her fingers down her cheeks. “Oh, thank you.”
“But only for tonight,” Bonita clarified. “My landlord could kick me out on the street any moment as it is, having that many kids living in a one-bedroom apartment.”
Molly nodded with understanding. She inhaled sharply, but couldn’t clear the fog that numbed her mind. “What am I going to do with all my stuff?”
“Take what you can and leave the rest,” Bonita suggested as she picked up a towel and folded it. “Let your landlord clean up the mess.”
She couldn’t leave anything behind. It was more than being sentimental. She didn’t know what she was going to need right away, or what would take her forever to replace.
Her friend set the towel on the sofa cushion. “Better come up with a plan fast because it looks like rain.”
Molly held out her hand and felt the fine winter mist. Not quite a drizzle, but more like the gods pumping a spray bottle at her.
Frick. Molly dropped her hand. She couldn’t even think of anything right now.
“I’m going to make some dinner. It’s leftovers but you come over and have some,” Bonita offered. “I’ll send one of the kids over when dinner’s ready.”
She shot a grateful look at her friend. “Thanks.”
“You’re going to get through this.” She gave an encouraging pat on Molly’s shoulder. “Everything is going to work out.”
Molly nodded, but she wasn’t so sure. She watched Bonita walk back to her own apartment building, fighting the urge to collapse on the sofa and have a good cry. Instead, she made herself right the upturned chair in front of her.
She shouldn’t be in this mess. Okay, maybe a little, but nothing of this magnitude, Molly decided as she picked up the pillow at her feet. It wouldn’t have been so bad if her good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend didn’t leave her hanging with all the unpaid bills.
She would really love to curse and blame him, Molly thought as she savagely tossed the pillow onto the mattress, but she knew she was ultimately responsible for her decisions. At the time she thought some of her choices were smart. There was something to be said about protecting herself and putting all the finances in her name. Quite another to cancel that smart move by living with a loser.
Here she thought they had been working together toward a future. Instead, he took what he could get, and when there was nothing worth taking, he left. Leaving her with no home, a mountain of debt, and no future.
It could be worse, Molly decided as she bent down to retrieve what looked like a book. She could still be with the loser.
Molly stepped under the front door light and read the title off the spine. Heh. It was the library book. She could have sworn she had returned it.
Molly rolled her eyes and tossed the book on the sofa. What was she even doing checking out a book on creating a beautiful home? She knew better than to dream for that.
But that’s what she wanted. She wasn’t looking to make millions or dominate the world. She didn’t want a career on the fast track or a showcase home or a fancy car.
What she wanted was a small corner of the world that was safe. She wanted to have money to pay her bills and not worry about how she was going to afford the basic necessities.
She wanted comfort. To her, that meant a cozy home. Warm and bright. It would have a clean and sparkling kitchen overflowing with food.
The kitchen would be big enough to hold a round table. She didn’t know why, but that’s what she always envisioned. It could be large or small, but it had to be made of wood. A pine table, but oak or maple would work, too.
But most importantly, she saw people around that table, laughing and talking. They might be friends, family. Whoever they were, they loved and cared for her. Watched out for her as much as she watched over them.
Why was that so hard to get? Why couldn’t she achieve that dream? She tried to play by the rules—she really did—but it only kept her further from what she wanted.
“Hey, you don’t have any prices on anything.”
Molly whirled around. She saw a young woman in a beige trench coat. She was standing by Molly’s wash basket, which was filled with her porcelain trinkets. “Excuse me?”
“You’re having a yard sale, aren’t you?”
Molly stilled. “Yes…” She set the muddy plate down and stepped toward the woman. “Yes, I am. I’m setting up, but I don’t have price tags on yet. I guess that means you get first pick.”
“Really?” The woman quickly masked her interest and held up a small ceramic box. “How much for this?”
Man, why go for the small stuff? Molly tried to hide her disappointment. She needed people to take the big-ticket items, not something she got at the dollar store.
“I’ll give you a quarter for this,” the woman offered.
A quarter? Molly didn’t know whether she should be offended or grab the quarter before the woman changed her mind. Yes, she’d rather have a quarter than nothing at all, but…
“I just don’t know,” Molly said, and tsked. “That…that box has been in my family for generations.”
“Really?” The woman turned it over to look at it closely. Molly hoped it didn’t have something printed on it, like commemorating the millennium.
“Yes,” Molly continued when she didn’t see any markings. “My great”—she paused and thought fast—“great grandmother brought it over on the boat to America.”
“Yeah?”
She saw the gleam in the woman’s eye. One dollar for sure. Molly knew she should close the deal, but she might be able to get five and make a profit.
“Yeah,” Molly replied. “It held the family savings. All ten gold coins. Great-great-grandma Connors had it sewn in the hem of her dress”—ka-ching, ka-ching!—“determined to keep it from thieves…”
Chapter 3
Kyle walked into the fitness center located on his corporate campus and came to a screeching halt when he saw Molly Connors on one of the treadmills.
What was she doing here? What was going on? He glanced around the near empty room as if searching for answers. He looked back at where Molly was exercising.
His gaze wandered down her body. Chunks of her brunette hair escaped her bouncy ponytail. Her pert breasts were clearly outlined against the damp, shapeless T-shirt. The bright red shorts hugged the full curves of her hips. He watched the muscles bunch and strain in her toned legs.
The sheen of perspiration on her flushed skin did something
to his imagination. He wanted to see her like this, sweaty, panting for her next breath, in his bed. Her fists bunching into the sheets—
Whoa. Rewind. What was she doing here? He was working out every morning, exhausting his body, clearing his mind until he didn’t think about her. This room was his sanctuary from Molly.
Until now.
He found himself walking toward her, breaking his routine, and doing the treadmill first. He chose the one next to her.
She glanced over and tripped. Her palms slammed onto the handrails and she hung on until she could regain her pace.
“Molly,” he said by way of greeting.
“Hi, Kyle.” She gave him the once-over and abruptly turned her head to stare straight ahead.
“I don’t remember seeing you here before.”
“I thought I’d try it out,” she said in between breaths. “Or is this an executive-only thing?”
Kyle frowned. What was she talking about? “No.”
Her smile expressed her relief. “Good.”
He entered the speed on his treadmill and started running. Kyle wanted to relieve his stress. Or catch up on the news from the TV across the room. But he couldn’t stop focusing on Molly.
Even though he wasn’t looking directly at her, he was aware of her every movement. The way her long hair clung to the back of her neck. The way she squirted the sports bottle in her mouth and how the dribble of water trailed down her chin and neck. He was acutely aware of the way she kept glancing at him.
And then he saw the flicker of her eyelashes as she glanced at his speedometer. She casually brushed her fingers along the control panel and moved her speedometer to meet his.
Hmm…So it was like that, was it? “Do you run a lot?”
“No, why do you ask?” She cast a quick look at him. For a second he thought she’d look guilty, but he didn’t know why.
“ ’Cause you’re in very good shape.” His gaze ran over her body again. If he wanted to maintain his self-control, he’d keep his eyes on her chunky running shoes.
“Thank you,” Molly said. “But I prefer other…activities.”
Yeah, his imagination was going to get the best of him. “Like?” he asked and felt her mind racing.
“Yoga,” she finally answered.
The vision of an incredibly flexible Molly was not what he wanted right now. He increased the speed on his treadmill.
“What about you?” she asked, her breathing labored.
“Running. Nothing better.”
“Hmm. You struck me as a golfer.”
That surprised him. Golf was okay, but it required more time than he could give it. “Why’d you think that?”
She shrugged, the move messing up her balance, but she quickly regrouped. “It’s the game for CEOs.”
“I’m not like most CEOs.”
“No kidding.” She slid her hand against the control panel and upped him one.
“Running is great,” Kyle said. “There’s nothing like the buzz, the rush you get.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“It gets the heart pumping. Throbbing.”
Molly looked straight ahead.
“The muscles stretch. Burn.”
She ran like she was trying to get away.
“The adrenaline rush.” He upped his speed. “The sudden kick in your veins.”
Molly matched him and was not the least bit coy about it. Kyle smiled. Just for that he went up another level.
She went up two.
Kyle let her get away with it for a minute. When he saw her flagging, he increased his speed by five.
She glanced at him in surprise. He wagged his eyebrows back at her.
She matched his pace and went for it.
Molly’s legs were a blur, her arms pumping. Her skin held a rosy glow, her lips parted as she breathed in deeply. She was giving him everything she got.
Kyle couldn’t take his eyes off of her. There was no pretence or strategy. Just in-your-face power and energy to meet a goal. It was sexier than stiletto heels and made him hotter than hell.
Molly suddenly slammed the cool-down button.
“Had enough?” he asked with a tinge of disappointment.
“For…the moment,” she said in a gasp.
“Don’t you love the burn?”
“Not when nausea accompanies it.” She hit the stop button and her treadmill turned off.
“Hey, you’re going to cramp up.”
Molly wasn’t listening. “I need a shower. A hot one.”
Thanks for the image.
She hopped off the machine and winced. She immediately lifted her leg and rubbed her calf.
“Told you.” Kyle knew he should sound more sympathetic and tried again. “Let me take a look at that.”
“No! No! I’m fine.” She slanted her injured leg away from him. “I’ll walk it off.”
“I can massage it for you.”
“That’s okay.” She raised her hand to block him. “Thanks anyway.”
“Or you can lie down and I—”
“No!” She scurried out of his reach. “I better get ready for work. I don’t want to be late.”
He watched her hobble off. It was probably a good thing she rejected his offer. But how would he ever get his fantasies to happen if she couldn’t stand the idea of his touch?
Kyle frowned and punched in the maximum speed.
Molly powered through to the bottom of her inbox, determined to have a pristine, clean desk—minus one intricate project on her desk to showcase her hard work.
She tilted the sheet of paper to the side. Perfect. She glanced at the clock. Two-fifteen. Hmm. How long did it take for a performance review around here? A couple of minutes? An hour?
She knew the review paperwork was horrendous. That sucker took hours! Trick questions and everything. Like, “How do you rate your performance?” Hello! Perfect score!
Of course, she couldn’t say that. She had a feeling they were testing for her modesty level or any superiority complex.
So she knocked a few points off, but would be sure to gain those in the next review. Nothing like showing some improvement, she thought with a sly smile.
Molly tiredly rubbed her forehead as she checked her desk one more time. Her job required lots of sporadic activity interspersed with mind-numbing boredom. During those moments it seemed like everyone walked by her desk and she had to look busy. Ugh. That was more exhausting than actually working.
Of course, her exhaustion level had increased ever since she’d been waking up at the crack of dawn and exercising the life out of her body. She was stiff and sore all over.
“I can massage it for you.”
Molly shivered with secret pleasure over the memory from this morning. No, thank you! Not a good idea. At all.
Okay, maybe a little bit, but it wouldn’t stop at a little bit. Oh, no. The minute she allowed Kyle close to her, he would see everything. The lies, the front. Everything.
And then she’d lose everything. It wasn’t a heck of a lot, but it was all she had right now.
Maybe that’s why she was feeling stiff and sore. She didn’t quite have a bed these days. If she ever got it on with Kyle, it would never be a matter of his place/her place. His place, hands down. Unless he wanted the unusual experience of doing it in the back of a stuffed, do-it-yourself moving truck.
Yeah, home sweet home. Molly cricked her neck, easing the tension. All the stuff she couldn’t sell at her impromptu yard sale was now in her temporary living quarters. At least it kept the rain and wind at bay. Too bad it was still cold and had no bathroom.
Which was why she’d been visiting the fitness room at the crack of dawn all this week. Not so much in the interest of good health as much as a good excuse to take advantage of the hot, pulsing shower.
Fortunately, she’d be able to kick her newly acquired health kick very soon. She couldn’t wait to get a place with heating. A window. A bathroom.
Of course, Molly rememb
ered as she heard the elevator bell ding, there was something to be said about picking up and leaving if she didn’t like the neighborhood. And the daily low fee…
The elevator slid open and Sara burst out into the reception area, urgency pulsing around her.
“Hi, Sara.” Molly greeted her boss with a smile.
“Did plaza+tag get back to you?” Sara asked breathlessly.
“No, but I’ll follow up on that right away.”
Sara stuffed her hands in her wild red hair. “I can’t believe how insane today is.”
Hmm, that didn’t bode well for her. Dread settled in her stomach.
“I don’t think I’m going to make the deadline,” her boss confided.
Which deadline? It didn’t matter. “I can help.”
“Oh, you can’t.” Sara sadly shook her head. “You don’t have the security clearance.”
“Okay.” How could she broach the subject without looking desperate? Inconsiderate? She got nothing. “Would you like to do my review after five?”
Sara frowned, the lines on her forehead deepening. “Huh?”
“I can rearrange my schedule so I can stay.” Not like she was chomping at the bit to get to her truck, but she didn’t want to appear too eager.
“Shit!” Sara smacked her palm against her forehead. “I forgot about your review.”
Molly felt her smile slip. Good thing she said something. “So, after work? I’ll run over to the cafeteria and get us some lattes.” Her budget could take the hit. She’d think of it as an early celebration.
“I can’t do the review today,” her boss confessed. “We’re going to need to reschedule it.”
What? Molly tried not to freak. Or grab Sara by her shirt collar and demand the review right here and now. Today was Friday. She’d waited long enough. She was not going to live in the truck any longer than necessary!
“Well, you can just tell me how I did,” Molly said as the dread twisted inside her. “No need to go through all the legalese.”
“I wish I could, but I’m not allowed. Human resources would kill me.”
Molly leaned forward. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry, Molly, I can’t do that. Why don’t we reschedule it for next Friday?”