by Katie Fox
With a smirk on his face, he started the car and reversed out of the parking spot. “I think I might.”
TIRES SCREECHED, AND the smell of burning rubber filled the inside of my car as I swerved into the first available parking space in the garage beside Caldwell Publishing. I was late. For the first time since in forever, I was running late. The previous evening had been an odd occurrence when I’d slept through the night, and it was a miracle and a nightmare, seeing as I had an important meeting that morning with several of our outside directors.
Turning off the car and hopping out, I quickly locked the doors and darted across the lower deck, heading for the set of elevators that climbed all twenty-six floors to where my office was located and where the meeting was being held. I stood impatiently, watching as the numbers illuminated overhead, and as soon as the elevator pinged and the doors slid open, I wasted no time in jabbing my thumb against the small round button with my desired floor number.
Millie was already waiting for me as I hurried out of the elevator, the meeting’s folder in hand and a look of shock on her face. This was unlike me. I was never late. For anything.
“Please tell me they are not here already.”
“They’re here. They arrived twenty minutes ago.”
I closed my eyes, biting back a curse that slipped out anyway. “Son of a...fuck.” I grabbed the folder from her hands and took off down the hall, adjusting my tie that was still hanging loose around my neck.
“Relax. Elle is with—”
Millie’s words died the second I swung the door open to the meeting room, and as several sets of curious eyes fell on me, mine landed on Elle. She stood at the front of the long oval table, a smile brighter than the damn sun on her face, and I swallowed, hard.
What was she doing?
“Owen.” Marcus Sterling, one of the wealthiest men in New York City, who also happened to be our largest benefactor, turned in his chair, a pen in his hand and a nonchalant smirk tugging at his lips. “Glad to see you could finally join us. Elle here was doing a wonderful job filling us in on the successes of Caldwell’s second quarter. I believe she was getting ready to tell us what you have in store for the third.”
Briefly, I looked at Marcus before my gaze returned to Elle. She was doing what? “She has, has she?” I stared at her in equal parts disbelief and admiration. Another flash of a smile crept across her face, this one almost timid, and a pang of guilt clawed at my chest for making her feel insecure, as if she were doing something wrong. She was doing her job, my job, and I didn’t know whether to be taken aback or turned on.
Elle shuffled the papers on the table in front of her into a pile, her voice full of apprehension. “Yeah. I was. I figured you were caught in traffic and didn’t want to keep everyone waiting. You’re here now, though, so you can take over.”
“No.” I shook my head and walked over to one of the vacant leather chairs at the far end of the table, sweeping my arm out before rolling it out and sitting down. I placed the folder in front of me, intent on watching her follow through with what she’d started. “Please. Continue.”
It was her turn to look shocked. Disbelief at my words soared across her beautiful features and fear appeared in her eyes. What was with this woman and not believing in herself? She clearly had it in her to not only hold me captive but my entire board of directors. These people were our contributors, our backers. They might not have had an immediate hand in Caldwell Publishing or in any of its decision-making processes, but they indirectly helped fund this venture. And here she was, blowing them all away, with her impeccable smile and her fierce passion for books and the written word. Elle was fully capable of conducting the meeting. The material was right in front of her, and she was aware of what needed to be discussed. She had been the one who had worked closely by my side and helped me prepare it.
We held each other’s gazes for a few beats, and then inhaling deeply, she continued where I assumed she’d left off, rambling about the releases we had planned for the third quarter, our anticipated sales numbers, and what our marketing plans entailed for each release. She spoke with excitement in her voice and a love in her eyes that told everyone in the room she was born to do this, and I sat there, completely enthralled. Moonstruck. Astonished. Whatever the hell you wanted to call it. I was in awe; everything that I felt was the perfect definition of the word. I remained there long after the meeting ended and it was only the two of us left in the otherwise empty room.
Elle didn’t look at me, not even a glance, as she collected all the papers sprawled out before her, and I rose from my chair. My feet carried me toward her as if she were the other half of my magnet, the polar opposite in need of its charge. I stopped in front of her, invading her space as if I owned it.
And goddamn, I did want to own it.
I wanted to own every single part of her.
Toe to toe, we stood, our eyes tethered by an invisible force. Nothing left either of our mouths, yet somehow, the air between us was saturated with unspoken words.
I want you, Elle. I don’t know why, but fuck, I want you. Here, now, wherever you’re willing to allow me to have you.
I resisted the urge to reach out and tuck a lock of blonde hair behind her ear.
Tell me I’m not the only one feeling this. Tell me you want me, too.
Elle took a step back, her ass hitting the edge of the hard table, and I stepped closer. My hands dropped to either side of her hips, and I leaned in, pressing my palms flat against the cool surface. Our chests were close and our mouths even closer. She licked her lips in that nervous way and studied me through her impossibly thick lashes.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice escaped her on a whisper, trepidation thick in her tone.
My brows pinched together.
She was sorry? What in the ever-living hell was she sorry for? For doing my job and for doing it well?
“Don’t do that,” I bit out, giving her a harsh shake of my head. “Don’t apologize.” I held her startled eyes for a moment more before unconsciously lowering my gaze. Her breathing pattern altered as I did, and her chest rose on a sharp inhale, the softness of her breasts brushing lightly against me. Her creamy ivory skin pebbled with goose bumps, and as I continued to drink her in, the need to smooth the pads of my fingers over them slammed into me. The room was quiet, so quiet I could hear her heart pounding as if it were about to shatter right through her ribcage. Unless it was mine. I honestly didn’t know. I didn’t know anything anymore. When she was around, all my thoughts belonged to her. She had entered my life, and the only thing my mind focused on was the way she made me feel.
What are you doing to me, Elle? Why do I want you in the worst fucking way?
Tilting my head, I brought my mouth to the shell of her ear. Our bodies were no longer touching, but everything about this situation and our current position was intimate. It was probably the most intimate moment I’d ever experienced in my life. “Do you feel that?” I whispered, fighting the need to lift her onto the table and push between her legs, to glide my hands up and over her thighs and beneath her skirt. I wanted to discover her warmth, feel it on my fingers and taste it on my tongue. I wanted to know what it felt like to be buried inside of her, if only for a moment. “Tell me you feel it, too.”
There was a small hitch in her breath that caused me to screw my eyes shut. I fought against the shot of lust that swirled in my abdomen because of her little broken sound, and right as the whimpered words “I feel it” left her mouth and my last thread of resistance snapped, Millie barged through the door.
“Owen, you have a”—her eyes darted between me and Elle—“phone call on line one.”
Fucking Millie.
Dragging a wide palm down my face, I straightened myself, and as I walked out the door, I didn’t bother to cast a second glance at the woman who my body was screaming and desperately aching for. It wasn’t until I vanished into my office that I realized so was my heart.
“I must say I think hirin
g her was probably the best decision you’ve ever made for this company.”
My head snapped to the side, my mouth forming a hard, flat line as I stared at Millie. She stood beside me, our elbows nearly rubbing together, as I leaned against a bookcase on the second floor of Caldwell’s private library. I’d often found myself venturing up there, in search of a moment of peace that I could never seem to find while in my office, and when I discovered it was where Elle spent her lunch hours, it was the only place I wanted to be. I’d watch her from afar as she’d pick up book after book and fall in love with the words on the pages. I watched with a slight envy in my heart at the way they made her feel, wishing I had the power to do the same but knowing even if I did, it wouldn’t make a difference. “What makes you say that?”
“Because she’s you. Aside from the fact that she’s a female and much prettier to look at, she’s you.” A small smile drew across Millie’s lips, and she sighed. “There is nobody else in this entire company who loves their job as much as she does. Nobody besides you. And I think we can both agree that she’s damn good at it.”
Sliding my hands into my pockets, I looked back at Elle. She couldn’t hear us. We were high on the second floor, well out of earshot. “She’s incredible.”
She was—so goddamn incredible—and when I thought I couldn’t be any more amazed by her, she proved me wrong. Time and time again.
“You know… I told her this once before about you, and I’m going to tell you the same. It’s okay to like her, Owen.”
I shook my head, Millie’s words tightening painfully around my heart. “No, it’s not.” Why was she doing this? Why was she trying to make something more out of this than what there was? What there never could be? She knew my situation, my circumstances. Damn it, she knew. “I can’t be what she needs, and even if I could, it wouldn’t be fair to her. I’m not going to put her in that kind of position. She deserves better. She deserves more than what I could give her.”
“Maybe that’s for her to decide. When are you going to stop pushing everyone out of your life, sweetheart?”
I didn’t respond, and knowing she wouldn’t get an answer, Millie patted me on the arm and then turned and walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
When it doesn’t hurt so much to have them a part of it.
Sliding into the seat of the cab, I pulled the door shut, quickly giving the driver directions to Rosie’s before turning to look at my company for the evening. “Oh, before I forget…” I reached into the inside pocket of my coat and pulled out the book I had tucked safely inside. “Second in the series. Trust me, you’ll need it immediately after the cliff-hanger ending in book one.”
Micah flashed me a feigned smile as he reluctantly freed the book from my hands, and my brows furrowed. It wasn’t like him. Normally he tore them from my grasp, eager to read whatever I threw at him. Confused, I slapped my hands against my thighs. “Okay. What’s going on with you?”
He shook his head in that dismissive way sixteen-year-old kids did and set the book down on the seat between us. “Nothing. I just don’t know that I have time for reading anymore.”
“No time for reading? Excuse my language, but that’s a shit excuse. Try again.”
“I’ve been busy, that’s all.” He didn’t look at me as he spoke. His brown eyes stared out of the window of the cab, his mood desolate, and it freaked me out. Micah was usually full of energy and high on life, which was why I enjoyed bringing him out more than any of the other residents at the shelter. He was merely a kid who had been dealt a shitty hand, and I was trying hard to help him beat the odds stacked against him. Most kids his age who were in his same situation were living on the streets and dealing drugs, joining gangs, and committing crimes in order to keep roofs over their heads. I was desperate to keep him from traveling that same path.
“What’s going on, man?” I bumped my shoulder against his, forcing him look at me. “Talk to me.”
He sighed again, this time with more effort. “It’s nothing, dude. I’ve just been busy trying to find work. I’m tired of having to live at the shelter, and I’m tired of having to see my mom struggle.” He went quiet for a moment, and the heaviness of his words pushed down on my chest. I didn’t know what it was like to be in his situation. I’d been born into money, and I was going to die the same way. Stress over which bills to pay or where I’d be living tomorrow was never a thought that surfaced in my mind. “It’s also her birthday on Saturday. I wanted to get her something nice, ya know. So, I appreciate the book, I just don’t have time to read it right now.”
The taxi rolled up to the curb in front of Rosie’s, and as we filed out and I paid the cab driver, I pulled out several of the one-hundred-dollar bills tucked inside. I handed them to Micah, watching as his eyes widened. “Get your mother something nice for her birthday, but for the love of Christ, never stop reading, dude. It’s the only time we can escape the harsh reality of this world; otherwise, it will swallow us up and spit us back out with its misery.”
“Thanks, man.” A genuine smile quirked up the corners of his mouth, and he held his fist out, waiting for me to bump mine against it. “I’ll pay you back. Promise.”
“Don’t worry about it, and don’t stress over your housing situation either. We’ll figure it out. Understood?” I hated that he was so young and dealing with so much shit. He was a good kid. He truly was. He was in high school and should be worrying about what college he’d be attending in the next couple of years, not whether they’d be living on the streets or where they’d be tomorrow.
Micah nodded, and I snaked my arm around his neck, tugging him along. “Come on. I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”
We entered Rosie’s and headed for the main counter, taking our usual seats and wasting no time in placing our dinner orders with Rosie. She was a sweet woman, and I’d been patronizing her diner for as long as I could remember. The food was great, the atmosphere even better, and it was only a few blocks from the shelter, making it my desired stop on Tuesday evenings. Within a couple of minutes, Rosie slid our drinks in front of us, and Micah knocked his elbow against my arm, drawing my attention to him.
He leaned in closer and cupped his hand over his mouth, lowering his voice. “Don’t look, but there is a total babe at nine o’clock.”
I lifted my chin, staring in the direction he’d mentioned, and all the air seeped from my lungs. How was it that she was even more beautiful now than she had been earlier?
He elbowed me again, this time harder. “Man, I told you not to look.”
“Seriously, dude?” I shook my head, chuckling. “Telling someone not to look is an open invitation for them to look.” He must have taken my retort as permission because as soon as the words left my lips, he returned his hungry eyes to Elle, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was half her age and he’d never have a chance in hell with her, I’d probably have been jealous. Her legs were wrapped in a pair of tight, dark denim jeans, and the little white tank top she had on hugged her chest like a second skin, showing every single delicious curve. A mass of blonde locks brushed against her shoulders and down her back, and her face was clean of any makeup. She never wore makeup, at least not that I could tell.
We both watched as she made her way from the rear of the diner where the restrooms were located and toward the booth she’d been sitting in. Sliding across the plastic seat, she unwrapped the napkin from her utensils, not realizing she had two sets of eyes lingering on her. I stood without warning, feeling that inevitable pull that always flowed between us, and walked over to where she was sitting.
I sat opposite of her.
Her head snapped up, those intense blue eyes of hers glimmering in surprise as they connected with mine. “Owen. What are you doing here?”
“It’s Tuesday,” I supplied, knowing it was the only explanation she needed. Realization swept into her expression. She smiled softly, her gaze immediately bouncing from me to the front counter to search out who I had brought with
me. Elle was no stranger to my Tuesday night rituals. Hiding my guest for the evening from her would be pointless. “His name’s Micah. He’s sixteen and he thinks you’re insanely hot.”
She turned back to look at me, bursting out a sweet-sounding laugh. “He what?”
“Yep. Said so himself. If he weren’t shy and inexperienced, I’m sure it’d be him sitting here pulling out all the lines.”
“Really?” Elle glanced at him for a second time, her nose scrunching up a little as she assessed him from afar. “He’s a cutie.”
A cutie? Fuck. I was jealous—jealous of a damn kid. Lucky little punk.
Noticing the notebook she had opened on the table next to her plate of food, I nodded toward it. “What do you have there?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” She quickly slammed it closed and stuffed it into her bag on the seat beside her. “It’s nothing.”
“It didn’t seem like nothing.” A look appeared in her eyes that begged me not to push the issue, and I decided to let it go. For now. “Anyway. I’ll let you get back to your dinner.”
Elle stopped me as I moved to stand. “You guys are welcome to join me, if you’d like.”
“Yeah?” I tried not to sound too eager. “You sure?”
She shrugged. “Yeah. Honestly, I’d enjoy the company.”
“Okay.” She didn’t have to say it twice. I resumed my position, my eyes glued to hers as I called out to Micah. “Yo, Micah. Get your scrawny behind over here and bring our drinks.”
A few seconds later, his thin frame slid onto the seat, and I didn’t need to look at him to know his eyes were fixed on Elle. He was intoxicated by her beauty as much as I was. Timidly, he set the book down on the table in front of him, and it immediately caught Elle’s attention.
“Do you like reading?” It wasn’t an odd question. When it came to kids his age, it was like pulling teeth trying to get them to pick up a book, much less read the damn thing.