Just Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy)

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Just Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy) Page 12

by Vickie McKeehan


  It was at that moment she realized how good she had it working in her little world, in her little book shop in little backwater San Madrid where she never had to dress to please anyone but herself.

  It wasn’t too late to jump back on the elevator. Just as that thought slid into her head, an anorexic-looking petite redhead no older than twenty, who was stationed behind that elegant reception counter, popped her head from behind her computer and asked, “Can I help you?”

  A little intimidated in this world, Kit had to think why she’d crossed the bridge to the other side in the first place. She fumbled the words out. “Jake Boston; I’m here to see Jake.”

  The girl eyed her up and down as if passing judgment on a homeless person and wanted to know, “Do you have an appointment?”

  Kit shook her head. “If he’s busy…I can come back another time.”

  “Are you selling something?”

  “Uh, why no, I’m not.” Kit took the question as a tad on the rude side. What if she owned a law firm and wanted to purchase billing software? How did the anorexic young woman know she wasn’t a customer? Of course, she realized she didn’t look like she owned a law firm that needed software, but then in her world she wasn’t in the habit of treating customers in such a rude fashion. Her customers usually came in right off the street. But then she realized she had wandered in right off the street. Worst of all, she was dressed like she had.

  The thin redhead picked up the phone, telling her, “I’ll let Ginger know you’re here. She’d be the one to know if Mr. Boston has time on his busy schedule to see you.”

  Great. Yeah, you do that, thought Kit. Is this a power trip or what? Now she was just suddenly pissed that she’d fooled herself into thinking the timing might be right after all these years. They had nothing in common. She thought back to his arrogant demeanor years earlier.

  This was the world he’d wanted to conquer, found so important, so driven to achieve success in, and he’d done just that. That fact hadn’t changed. They really didn’t have a single thing in common. Now she was seeing it for herself, the fact hitting her full force between both eyes. No longer uncomfortable about being here, she was glad she’d made the trip. Face the truth, Griffin, the two of you have about as much in common as two opposing political foes.

  Just then, a woman in her mid-forties dressed in a light pink Donna Karan suit, with jet black hair streaked with gray and warm brown eyes, approached the reception area. “Hi, I’m Ginger Starks, Jake’s secretary. Can I help you with something?”

  At Ginger’s sudden appearance, Kit took two steps toward the elevator. “Well no, not really. I was here to see Jake. And no, he isn’t expecting me. I was in the neighborhood and decided to drop in; however, I see now that was a bad idea.” It wasn’t just the lie; she was babbling, and worse, she knew it.

  Ginger eyed the attractive blonde with interest, clutching an assortment of file folders to her chest. “Jake’s on a conference call, but if you’ll take a seat, I’ll wave a note under his nose to let him know you’re here. May I have your name please?”

  “Kit, Kit Griffin.” She inched closer to the elevator. “But I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to interrupt him.”

  After eight years working as Jake’s secretary, Ginger knew every aspect and detail of the man’s calendar and schedule by heart. It was her job to know. She was certain this woman wasn’t on his schedule. But Jake rarely had visitors who were so pretty and so young. For some reason she thought that he’d be upset if she let this woman leave without letting him know that she’d been here.

  Ginger flashed an easy smile. “I’ll be right back. Would you like something to drink while you wait?”

  “No thanks. I’m fine. Look I don’t want to bother him. If he’s busy, I’ll just see…I’ll see him some other time…I’ll see him…later.”

  Ginger was still smiling at Kit and oozing warmth. “I’ll just let him know you’re out here. Please sit down. I’ll just be a minute.”

  When Ginger reached her desk, she wrote Kit’s name and the fact that she was in the lobby on a Post-it® note with a purple marker. She peeled off the yellow paper from the pad’s dispenser and, without knocking, opened Jake’s office door.

  He was listening to a man’s voice over the speakerphone, showing a mild interest in the conversation, when she waved her finger with the note to get his attention.

  He looked slightly annoyed for about two seconds until he saw what it said. Without waiting to interrupt the caller, without saying a word to Ginger, he shot up from his chair and left the person on the other end of the phone talking to air.

  Ginger smiled. Some days it just paid to have a hunch. Amused, she took a seat in one of the comfortable leather chairs in front of Jake’s desk with her steno pad. In Jake’s absence, she dutifully scribbled down whatever the caller rambled on about, all the while wondering about the blonde.

  Jake was in the lobby in under two minutes flat. And when he saw Kit, it was as if he hadn’t seen her in days rather than hours. When he’d dropped her off at her house after they’d dealt with Collin, she’d been wearing his clothes.

  Looking at her long legs in the short slice of denim skirt, a rush of adrenaline caused his heart to skip a beat. She was holding some file folders clutched to her chest.

  Keeping his voice level, he said, “What a surprise. I’m glad you stopped by.” Glad didn’t cover the way he felt. He wanted to throw her down on the lobby sofa and start nibbling down her body inch by inch.

  But then he noticed how uncomfortable she acted, how tense she was. Had something happened?

  At the sound of his voice, a funny thing happened. When Kit turned to face him, the image of the kiss they’d shared that morning popped into her brain, and she had to remind herself to breathe. The pissed-off feeling about their differences vanished, and she stood there trying to get her mouth to work. After several seconds of just staring, her brain finally kicked into drive and worked in sync with her mouth. She tried to sound casual and cool when a few words squeaked out. “Just thought I’d see how the CEO lived.” Mortified, she realized she sounded fourteen again. But he seemed genuinely pleased to see her.

  “Come on back to my office. I’ll give you the grand tour after I get off the phone.”

  “But you aren’t on the phone.”

  He shot her a wide grin. “Technically, I am. I’ll show you my office first.”

  As he took her hand and led her down a hallway, it occurred to Kit that if they had sailed to Catalina they might have explored more than a day at sea: but each other’s bodies as well.

  And she would really love to find out what was under his starched shirts and pressed pants. Just picturing him sans clothes caused a spike in her lust factor. Maybe it was the hope of kissing him again or the prospect of something more. Whatever the reason, desire flooded her. The emotion was so strong she was annoyed with herself, annoyed at how seeing him sent her into cardiac overdrive.

  Back in his office, Jake patted the empty leather chair beside Ginger and motioned for Kit to sit down. Ginger automatically handed her notes off to Jake. But before getting up to leave, she flashed Kit another warm smile. Less self-conscious, more comfortable now, Kit smiled back.

  Reading Ginger’s notes, Jake slid back into his chair and picked up the conversation as if he’d never left the room. After asking a few relevant questions of the caller about the man’s current billing system, he then ran through a checklist of the software’s features before ending the call.

  “Sounds like you wear many hats. You get the usual commission on that sales call?”

  “Only when it closes. I’m glad you came. Did I tell you that?”

  Self-consciously, she put the file folders down on the floor next to her. “I’m ashamed to say I brought you my father’s social security number and some files Connor Boyd sent me that I was concerned about. But after seeing you in action, I don’t expect you to waste your time looking at them now. In fact, I can’t possi
bly ask you to make time for my problems.”

  “Hey, if Connor Boyd sent you papers, I’d like to take a look.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure. But promise me you won’t spend more than ten minutes on the stuff.”

  This woman had an innate sweetness about her and she didn’t get it from Alana. Alana could have played the wicked witch of the north every day of her life in the role of a lifetime. Kit was looking at him intently, waiting for an answer. Finally, he said, “Sure.” His mouth curved into a sly smile. “Would you like the grand tour?”

  “I’m not exactly dressed to meet your co-workers. Maybe…”

  Before she could put up much more of a protest, he was in his element, telling her, “What are you talking about? You look great. Come on.”

  The tour took her through accounting, marketing, and testing, ending up in the engineering department, where Jake left her in the capable hands of Dylan Burke while he took an important call from Japan. Despite knowing Jake for as long as she had, she’d never actually met his friends.

  With his dark blond hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail, Dylan looked more like a cross between surfer and rock star rather than a programmer in charge of research and development. His blue eyes were warm and friendly, and since he was dressed quite a bit less conservatively than Jake in worn jeans and a golf shirt, he put Kit more at ease.

  After Kit showed interest in the surfing pictures hanging on the walls of his office, Dylan kicked back in his chair, put his feet on the desk, and Kit listened as he talked about curls and waves and the best spot he’d ever surfed, which was hands down Angourie Beach on the north coast of New South Wales.

  As soon as Dylan found out she enjoyed surfing, he grinned and said, “Then I should probably tell you about Jake’s first time up on a board. It wasn’t pretty. We were twelve. The three of us—Jake, Reese and I—went to spend a month of summer vacation at his grandmother’s house in Santa Cruz. We were novices just starting out. Even though the guy could out-lap either of us in a swimming pool, Jake kept falling off his board; never got the hang of it that day. So we kept going back every day for a week until he finally stayed up longer than twenty seconds.”

  When he laughed at the memory, Kit heard genuine affection in his voice as he talked about his friends. This was special, she realized, like what she had with Baylee and Quinn. “How long have you known Jake?”

  “Came from the same neighborhood in the Bay, been buddies ever since grade school, where we were alphabetized, Boston, Brennan, and Burke in Mrs. Kurth’s first grade class. Mrs. Kurth was really big on organizing and order. I’m pretty sure trying to handle the three of us in the same class for nine months probably drove that woman to drink. I can’t much blame her, we were a handful back then.”

  “And you’ve all matured so well now, right?”

  They were laughing when Jake came through the door.

  On the way back to his office, Jake made a side trip into one of the empty conference rooms. As soon as he shut and locked the door, Kit saw the flicker in his eyes and knew why they’d made the stop.

  Leaning his body against the door, he positioned her between his legs, pressing her body to his. He lowered his mouth to hers. A flash fire ignited. Kit kissed him back with such force, their teeth knocked together. She felt him harden like stone.

  When a knock on the door interrupted them, Jake swore under his breath, closed his eyes and hit the back of his head lightly on the door. Curious, she asked, “Is it always like this?”

  Without opening his eyes, he nodded. “Most times it’s worse.”

  “Years ago, that software you created turned out to be a living, breathing monster, didn’t it? It’s like one of Alana’s horror movies, the monster just keeps growing, getting bigger and more demanding.”

  He laughed and some of the tension drained away. As another knock sounded from outside the door, Kit pulled the weight of her body off his. Surveying his condition below the belt, realizing his disadvantage at the moment, she touched his face with her fingertips, kissed his cheek and offered, “I’ll answer the door. I don’t think they’re going away anytime soon.”

  “I might need a minute.” He moved away from the door while Kit switched places with him. Taking a deep breath before gradually turning the lock, she opened the door so that no more than a crack was revealed and saw Ginger.

  “I’m looking for Jake.”

  “He went to get me a soda from the break room, said I should wait for him in here. He’s been gone a few minutes, might have made a pit stop at the men’s room on his way to get me the drink.”

  “When he gets back could you tell him Chuck is on the phone from New York? There’s a problem with the Eastman contract and it needs to be taken care of tonight because it has to be in the client’s hands by nine o’clock in the morning—that’s nine o’clock New York time, but six o’clock here. Hence, the problem with the contract will need to be resolved tonight.”

  “Got it.” Kit closed the door, looked playfully at Jake and winked. “Looks like you’ll be conducting Crisis Management 101 for the next few hours now that all hell’s broken loose because some guy named Chuck waited until the eleventh hour to do what he should have done several days ago. The contract isn’t ready and now it seems he’s hit the panic button because it’s due at the client’s in the early morning AM.”

  Jake grinned at her assessment of the situation. “You’re pretty good at this.”

  “I’m pretty good at a lot of things.”

  “Will I ever get to find out?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Do you want to wait here or come back to my office with me?”

  She looked at her watch. “I should get going. Traffic will be brutal.”

  “Stay. I’ll take you to dinner when I’m done with Crisis Management.” He reached out, took her hand in his, brought it to his lips, kissed the palm. “Stay.”

  She looked into the depths of his blue eyes and realized she didn’t want to go. What was it about him that she was so attracted to anyway? Since the first time she’d looked up and found him standing in the doorway of the file room in Morty’s law firm staring at her so many years ago, she knew she loved him. She sighed and gathered up whatever strength she could muster and said softly, “I can’t, Jake. I’ve been gone from the shop most of the day. I promised Baylee I’d get back in time for her to take Sarah home.”

  “What about—later?”

  “Sure. Will you be finished up here by say, six-thirty or seven?”

  “I guarantee it.”

  “Then come for dinner.”

  A lightheaded feeling hit him at the prospect of spending another evening with her. “I’ll walk you out.”

  She shook off his offer. “Not necessary. Besides, you have a crisis to manage.”

  “But if I walk you out, I get to spend more time with you.” It sounded like the most juvenile comment he’d made in twenty years.

  As she opened the door to the conference room, her lips curved, “But wouldn’t your time be better spent wrapping up that crisis so you’ll be on time for…dinner?”

  He drew in a deep, shaky breath. He wanted this woman. He’d known her when she was a kid, knew what she’d looked like at fourteen. Wasn’t there something wrong about that? But God, she was like fresh air he needed to breathe. His raging hormones made him feel like a randy fifteen-year-old struggling with his libido.

  When they got to the elevators and the door opened, tired of waiting, he took Kit by the arm and pulled her into the elevator with him. As soon as the doors closed, he drew her into his chest and gave her a mouthwatering kiss every bit as good as the one he’d given her in the privacy of the conference room.

  She was pretty sure the only reason she remained upright was that he had hold of her. Her bones were like pools of mush that matched her brain. When the elevator dinged at ground level, he released her, and they both walked out into the lobby trying to act as if nothing had happened.

  Ki
t put her fingers to her lips, found them swollen from that kiss—no she corrected, from two of his kisses that had been like heat-seeking missiles. Kit looked up at him once again, needing some reassurance they were on an equal playing field. “I do have one question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That kiss just now and the one, the other one in the conference room, and the one on the boat this morning, am I to understand that after all this time you no longer think of me like a little sister?”

  To keep from touching her again, he shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned in where only she could hear. “News flash Kit, not now nor have I ever thought of you as a little sister. If I had, it would have made things so much easier.”

  Before she could respond, he’d hit the elevator button, the doors had opened and he’d disappeared inside, leaving her standing there with her mouth open.

  Jake had just gotten back to his office to deal with Chuck and the Eastman contract when Dylan appeared in his office doorway. “Where in the world did you meet a woman like that when you’ve been in Japan for a year, won’t leave the damned office long enough to go to happy hour, and the closest thing to a social function you ever attend, if you can call it that, is a software convention?”

  In the midst of everything else he was feeling since he’d left Kit standing in the first floor lobby, the last thing Jake wanted to discuss was the woman in question. And the last man he wanted asking him anything was Dylan. So Jake ignored him.

  But that just made Dylan more determined. Dylan scratched at his cheek. He knew how to get a rise out of the man. “She’s a little young for you, don’t you think?”

  Jake was up out of his chair like a shot and in Dylan’s face. “Goddamn it, Dylan, get out. I don’t want to talk about Kit.”

  “Oh I can see that, but she is…” He meant to say something special, but at the last minute, still wanting to needle Jake, he said, “Not your usual type.”

  “And what type would that be? You mean like Claire, a materialistic viper of a woman who slept with anything in pants except maybe her own husband? And because I really didn’t give a shit, I never got around to filing for a divorce. Just lucked out when the stupid bitch got herself murdered and the police tried to pin it on me. Is that my usual type, Dylan? If that’s who you’re talking about, it’s time I changed my goddamned type. Now, shut the fuck up and get out of my office.”

 

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