“Good morning, Mr. Haas.”
It was as if she sang the words. Loudly, too.
“Morning, Melissa.” I furrowed my brow at her extreme good humor and continued walking, “Any changes with my schedule today?” I asked as I strode down the hallway.
“Nothing major, sir.”
Her response seemed odd, but I ignored it and pushed my office door open. My chair, which stood directly across the room from the doorway, spun around behind the desk. Dark green eyes greeted me, and a smile spread across her face. My terrible mood vanished.
Strolling into my office, I stopped short of my desk.
“I see someone is a little late to work this morning.” She twined her fingers behind her head and kicked her pumps onto the smooth mahogany desktop. “I don’t think the boss would appreciate his top attorney strolling in here an hour late.”
I walked around the desk, standing mere inches from her. I leaned down and kissed her forehead. I wanted her lips.
“Good morning, doll.” I pushed a tendril that had slipped from her braided hair to behind her ear. “It won’t happen again. Especially if you’re here every morning.”
She wore long gray pants with a sweater the color of my mother’s pink teacup roses, and her makeup was applied lightly on her smooth skin. She was breathtaking. She straightened and moved over to the bar I kept stocked with scotch for those late nights when I needed a drink to relax. Holding the bottle and a glass tumbler, she walked them over to me, pushing the glass my way as she set it on the desk.
“It’s a little early for a drink, don’t you think?”
“Have a seat.”
“What’s the matter, Lynn?”
“In order for me to work or be here, and for you and me to ever have somewhat of a …whatever again, I need you to know what happened to me when I was at rehab.”
“Oh.”
“It’s something that my therapist told Loren, because I couldn’t. She then relayed a nicer version to Kennedy and Gus because it was too hard for me to talk about it.” She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as a breath of air escaped her lungs. “But with you … I wasn’t going to say anything, but last night … last night I couldn't sleep because I didn’t know how I would ever be able to look at you the same if you didn’t know.”
“Lynn…”
She clutched at the bottle of scotch. “I … Fuck, this isn’t as easy as I hoped.”
“Do you need a drink?”
Her laughter filled the office. “Recovering addict over here, Haas. I don’t think alcohol is something my AA counselor or my therapist would agree on five days out of rehab.”
“Right. Sorry.” She had caught me off guard two days in a row.
“When I got to rehab I was already two weeks clean, so I’d immediately started therapy. There was little detox left for me to do. When my counselor asked me why I’d turned to drugs, I couldn’t answer her. I thought it was simply easier to be numb and forget that I had lost a week of my life and that nothing made sense. She suggested hypnosis.”
“Hypnosis?’
“Hypnotherapy is a better term. Anyway, here is the short version of it. We discovered that … I was taken by a man outside my house, dragged to his car …”
My hands clutched the sides of my chair, whitening my knuckles. She filled her lungs with air and closed her eyes before she continued.
“I was drugged and raped.” She let out her breath in a rush. Her eyes were still shut and a tear fell down her rosy cheek.
“Lynn…” My hand moved to cup her cheek, my thumb wiping away her tear.
“I wanted you to know because I need to look at those files again. Something isn’t adding up, Peyton. Those pictures aren’t of me. My mind knows what happened … every part of it.” She sobbed and I wrapped my arms around her.
“Shh, I’m here, doll. No one will hurt you again. I promise.” My hands rubbed her shoulders. “What can I do to help?”
“If the offer still stands, I’d like to be here every day until I’m ready for the bar. In the meantime, though, I’d like to review my file with a fine tooth comb.”
“And the hard liquor at nine in the morning?”
“I didn’t know how you’d react. I figured the liquor would calm you. It’s what you’ve always done with me.” She smiled, her cheeks still rosy from the tears. I remembered the first time I showed her my playroom.
“Can I convince you to come and stay in my office?” I hugged her tightly. I should have thought of that before having the architect design hers.
“Nope. I have the biggest test of my life to study for and I can’t have you distracting me all the time.”
Braelynn pulled out of my arms and I let her go. She stood and walked away towards her office and I sank into my chair. Twisting the top off the liquor, I poured myself two fingers. It was easy to be sane in front of her. She needed my strength to be composed and to hold her. But when she wasn’t in sight, it was a different story.
I brought the crystal glass to my lips, planning a way to find the asshole who did those horrific things to her and kill him with my bare hands. My legs shook and my breath came in spurts as I tried to calm the rage.
There was no chance I would let her out of my sight again.
Braelynn
After I’d left Peyton’s office with the file he gave me tucked under my arm, my hand shook as I pressed the elevator button for the lobby. He had this control over me. It wasn’t something new; I’d always had a connection with him. But if I were honest, I expected to come out of rehab and find a new woman on his arm. Sammie, Devon, whomever. But when his eyes connected with mine I was able to see that I still moved him the same way he affected me.
What I really wasn’t expecting was the detailed file and the office for me. He had thought of everything. There was no way I could stay home and not drive myself crazy. I needed an outlet to clear my mind, and work had always been it for me. Sara had already hired a new cleaning lady, and though she offered me my old job back, it was time to grow like the tattoo on my back and branch out.
Before this morning’s visit, the thought of working with Peyton had posed a different, difficult problem. He didn’t have any knowledge of what we discovered in rehab. Loren was the only one who knew the story in detail, and she had given it to Kennedy and Gus. But Peyton—I couldn’t tell him. I didn’t want to tell him. I needed him to see me as the strong woman I wanted to be. He had seen me at my worst, at rock bottom. If I told him that on top of everything he knew, I’d also been held captive for five days and that an asshole had me hooked on heroin and raped me repeatedly, it would only destroy the last shred of chance we had of being together.
Later that night I woke in my bed, soaked in sweat and shivering. The nightmare of that terrifying week had found me. It was the same as before: I’m walking home, there’s a blow to my head, then I’m dragged into a car where I pass out. I would wake in the dream with my limbs sore, my vision fuzzy, and my body numb from the heroin. It was hell.
I sat on my bed with my comforter clenched in my fist. I thought the nightmares had stopped. I thought my brain had locked them in a box and thrown the key away. Goose bumps arose all over my skin and I felt alone. I craved Peyton’s touch.
I stretched behind me and my nightstand light came on with a twist of the knob. I may be tucked away in my room, but I needed the reassurance of safety. The dim glow lit my room and highlighted the manila folder I’d laid on my dresser. Climbing out of bed, I took a sip from the bottle of stale water as I grabbed the file. I tossed the comfort off of the bed, and opened the file folder before me. The first paper I picked up was the medical report from the hospital. Of course, the meticulous Peyton had the paperwork in date order. I glanced at one medical report before moving to my toxicology screen.
The report from Officer Walsh was what intrigued me the most. The photos of the blonde who was presumably me were blurry, but she looked familiar; even I had to admit it. My credit card signature seemed
off as well—I didn’t form the W in Wolf the same way.
The picture from the hotel had a better likeness of the blonde, but big sunglasses hid her face. There was something unusual about this photograph, but I couldn’t put my finger on it quite yet. It could have been my lack of sleep or the fact my heart was still racing from the night before. I laid the pictures down and looked through the remainder of the file. Peyton was as anal as I was, if not more. He had a copy of Drew’s passport—I ignored the smug look he wore in the picture. Peyton had also attached a Private Investigator’s report.
He’d kept looking for me even after I’d told him I didn’t want to see him anymore.
The investigation turned up no trace of Braelynn Wolf in the Tri-state area. I felt my cheeks rise in a small smile. I had completely disappeared from his life though I was only a few miles away.
I tucked the papers back in the manila folder and tossed it on the floor. I crawled back under the covers and tugged them all the way to my neck. Peyton needed to know what happened to me if I was going to use the office to study and look over this case again.
When Melissa’s smile greeted me as I entered PH esquire the following morning, I felt happy with my decision. She informed me that Peyton had not arrived yet, so I let her know I would wait in his office.
His shocked expression when he noticed me in his chair made me believe that Melissa failed to mention I was there. She was becoming one of my new favorite people.
After I relayed to Peyton what we discovered about my missing week—everything we discovered—I expected him to be furious. Instead, he’d held me close and wiped the tears from my face. My love for him only doubled in my chest.
I left him in his office and got right to work. The bar exam was approaching and I planned to pass it with flying colors. I dropped my tote on the uncluttered surface of my desk and pulled out my notes from my last semester in law school. It had been almost a year since I was in school and I needed a hard refresher course.
I read through all my notes, every last one, then took advantage of the lunch hour lull to wander down to the main conference room. Peyton’s library was massive; I pulled the books I needed and picked at my panini as I read over each one back in my office.
I’d lost track of time.
My heels were kicked off onto the gray carpet and I sat with my legs pretzeled on the black leather chair. I had managed to avoid Peyton for most of the day, locked away in my corner. After lunch, he popped his head in to make sure I was okay, but that was the last I’d heard from him.
My desk telephone started to ring and I jumped in my seat. Hell, I thought the phone was there for decoration.
I gripped the receiver and brought it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Doll.” Peyton’s voice greeted me. I leaned over in my chair, trying to see him in his office through the glass wall. When I was sure he couldn’t see me, I sat back and felt my face smile wide. “Braelynn?” he asked again when I didn’t respond.
“Hi. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting my phone to ring. You caught me off guard.” My finger twirled the phone cord.
“Do you have plans for tonight? I’d like to take you to dinner.”
“Sorry, I can’t. I have a class with Gus at the gym.”
“Is the gym far from here?” he asked with a hint of disappointment in his voice.
“It’s across town, but Gus is meeting me here at five.”
“Thomas will drive you both.”
“Thomas?” I had no clue who he was.
“Yes, he is a new driver on my staff. It’s dark out and I’d prefer if you didn’t walk.”
My hands rushed to my chest, feeling my rapid heartbeat. He cared. I knew he cared. I had a file proving how much, but hearing him confirm it only brought bigger butterflies to my stomach.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
The line went dead. I had the biggest girly grin on my face. When five o’clock came around, I re-shelved my books and packed my belongings. Gus had texted me that he was on his way. I said goodnight to Melissa, then peeked inside Peyton’s empty office.
“He’s with another associate,” Melissa said when she noticed me looking for him.
“Oh.”
“I’ll tell him you said goodnight.”
“Thanks, Melissa.” The elevator door opened and I stepped in, the girlish smile still stretched across my face.
I stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby where Gus waited for me, his scarf wrung around his neck. From his red nose it was a clear indication that it was below freezing point outside.
“Cold?” I asked, lacing my arm through his.
“It’s an Arctic freezer out there. Are you ready for our warm up walk?” Gus led me towards the revolving door.
“Nope, no need to walk. Peyton’s driver is taking us.” I beamed up at him, and his smirk pleased me further. I winked at Gus and pulled him towards the black town car. Thomas held the back door for us.
When Gus and I were done getting our asses handed to us at the Krav Maga class, I was drenched with sweat. I had thought Thomas was only bringing us to our class, but he was still parked in the same place he was when we arrived. He held the rear door to the town car open.
“Ms. Wolf.” His hand guided me to the back seat. “I can take you both home if you’d like.” I looked up at Gus and he didn’t protest.
“Go, I’m two blocks from home. I’ll be there before he turns the corner.” Gus’s arms reached around me, bringing me closer to him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby girl.”
I waved good-bye to Gus before I climbed in. I’d planned on going home and soaking in my tub—liberally laced with a box of Epson salt. That had been the most intense workout of my life.
The following morning I stretched my hands over my head. My shoulders locked and my cold muscles ached as I held my pose. My legs were sore and my thighs twitched as those muscles awoke. It was a pain that hurt—and a pain that felt so good.
After I was showered and dressed in black slacks and a teal long sweater, I located my low-heeled boot. There was no point in attempting to walk with sore legs in heels. I grabbed a protein bar from the cabinet and my tote from the couch. It was still in the same spot I left it last night when I walked in. With my coat, scarf, and gloves, I braced myself for another day of Arctic cold. Peyton’s office wasn’t far; it would only take five minutes for my body to became numb to the cold, so I ignored it and kept walking.
I closed the front door behind me and stopped short. There was Thomas, waiting at the curb. His small grin appeared on his face. “Good morning, Ms. Wolf.” He turned and pulled the back door open for me.
“Hi.” My body rotated, looking for Peyton. “Is he here?”
“No ma’am, I’m your driver. Louis picks up Mr. Haas in the mornings. Is there a problem?”
My driver?
I shook my head and moved toward the opened door. Since when did I have a driver? Once I climbed inside the pine-fresh smelling car I read the outside temperature on the dashboard then leaned back in the warm car.
Security greeted me outside the revolving doors of Peyton’s office building. My office too, now. A large man walked over to me with a goofy grin on his face. “Good morning, Ms. Wolf.” He handed me the credit card-like badge he held in his meaty hand.
“Thank you.” I took the badge from him and used it to call the elevator. Now I wouldn’t have to bother Melissa every time I arrived.
I strolled straight to my office. Melissa was on the phone when I passed her, and I didn’t stop by Peyton’s office. Instead, I raised my hand, giving him a quick wave. I didn’t know what we were or what we were doing. If he needed something, he would find me.
To my surprise, when I arrived in my office a new laptop sat in its white box along with several different bar exam preparation books. A small sticky note was stuck to the top of the pile.
I took a moment to admire his perfect penmanship before I tore open the box. I was halfway thro
ugh setting up my email on my new, shiny toy when my office door creaked open.
“Morning, doll.” Peyton’s eyes were bright when he noticed me playing with my laptop.
“Morning.”
I smiled up at him as he rounded my desk and placed a kiss on my forehead. His scent invaded my office. Freshly showered and manly, my toes curled thinking of our times in his bathroom. I tried to corral my wandering mind.
“Funny thing happened to me this morning.”
“Oh?” He sat on the desk, waiting for me to continue.
I leaned back in my office chair, my arms crossed over my chest. “Thomas announced that he was my driver.” My head cocked to the side as I waited for him to reply.
“I don’t want you walking, Braelynn.” He leaned over and slid his fingers on my jaw line. “Please, for my sanity, let Thomas drive you around. It will make me feel at ease about you.”
Who was I to argue with the man I loved?
Peyton and I fell into a routine during my first week. He spent most of his time in my office and had lunch with me every day in his. There was a charge between us, an awareness, but it never escalated. He continually seemed to find ways to touch me—brief, lingering caresses to let me know he was still with me. He was waiting for me, giving me the space I needed until I was ready.
My first therapy session was scheduled for Wednesday after my CrossFit class. I gushed my thanks to Thomas repeatedly since I was running late and would never have made my appointment on time if I’d had to walk. My new therapist, Dr. Miriam Jackson, was thrilled with the progress I had made since leaving rehab two weeks ago. She seemed concerned that I had dove right back into my life again, but I assured her I needed to learn to live without fear again. My only concern was my fear of being intimate again; that sex would never be the same. I didn’t plan to have sex with anyone other than Peyton, but what if our connection was gone?
“What if I can’t become aroused because of the visions that still invade my mind?” After months of talking with Dr. Lawson about my feelings, opening up to a complete stranger was a breeze.
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