by Mia Carson
His jaw worked and he lowered his face until it was level with hers. “I don’t know where it is.” His hands fell to his sides, balling into fists.
“Can I run in and look?” Freddie asked politely. Mack didn’t deserve it, but Rhett wasn’t going to correct her tone. His body stayed relaxed and he smiled at the man, a man willing to cheat on Freddie and try to win her back with lame excuses.
“Fine, but don’t you dare take anything else.”
“Like I would want anything else.” She shoved past him on her way into his apartment, leaving Rhett and Mack staring each other down in the hallway.
“So,” Mack said, inching closer, “you’re a friend of Freddie’s? How come I’ve never heard of you?”
“We’ve only recently become friends.”
“Recently? How recent?”
Rhett debated answering but wanted to be polite. If he let his guard drop, he would have no problem punching this man in the face and breaking his nose. “A few weeks. I work with her at LM Solutions.”
“Is that so? And what do you do? Mail room boy?” he sneered. “I’m a publicist for several big names around LA.”
“Well, that is quite impressive, and no, not the mail room boy.”
“Janitor,” he guessed next, snapping his fingers as if he nailed it on the head. “That must be it. Freddie always makes friends with those beneath her.”
“Like you?” he shot back before he could stop himself.
Mack’s upper lip curled in a snarl. “How dare you speak to me like that?”
“Why? You might work with some of the hottest clients in the city, but I’m one of the Macon brothers and the current CEO of Freddie’s company,” he said with a cocky grin.
“The playboys?” Mack asked and barked a laugh. “She thought I was a cheating bastard. Everyone knows your reputation and the guys you hang out with. You have a new girl on your arm every week. So what is Freddie, your flavor of the month? Going to take her for a spin? Well, let me tell you something, friend,” he glowered, poking Rhett hard in the chest, “that girl won’t give it up to you if she never even came close to giving it up to me.”
Rhett stared at the finger against his chest and sniffed hard, nodding his head. “Maybe, but at least I am not a cheater. I’ve never had a woman leave me because I couldn’t keep it in my pants.” Mack’s finger remained where it was as he ground his teeth. “Do you mind taking your hand off me, or must I remove it for you?”
“Fine,” Mack whispered harshly, jerking his finger away. “You have her, I don’t care. Just so you know, crazy runs in her family. I saw it every day I was with her. Her looks will suck you in, but she’s a psycho, that one, biding her time for the right sucker to come along.”
“I doubt it, and I would appreciate it if you would desist from slandering one of my employees and friend,” Rhett warned.
“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do about it, tough man?” Mack challenged.
Rhett opened his mouth to tell Mack exactly what he would do given a few minutes alone in the hallway, but he spied Freddie coming back. A ring glinted on her finger and a look of relief washed over her face.
“Found it. I’m going now. Stop calling me. I’m not coming back to you.”
She was nearly past him when his hand reached out and snagged her. He crushed his mouth to hers as she smacked him. Rhett shoved him back, pushing Freddie protectively behind him.
“What the hell was that?” she screamed, lunging forward to scratch his face, but Rhett stopped her. “You bastard. You’re nothing but a sick bastard.”
“I wanted one taste for the road, sweetheart.” He licked his lips and winked. “Too bad I’ll never get to taste the rest of your sweet body.”
She snarled at him, and Rhett shoved Mack backwards into his apartment door. “Go inside and shut the door,” he growled. “Now.”
“Or what?” He shoved Rhett hard, but he planted his feet and barely moved.
“I said go back inside and shut the door,” Rhett repeated, seeing red. The urge to hit something grew. Mack shoved him a second time and a third. Freddie tugged at his hand, trying to drag him away. He would have gone with her, too, if the man had kept his mouth shut.
“She’s nothing more than a trashy, teasing bitch anyway. She’ll probably be a terrible lay.”
Rhett snapped. His fist connected with Mack’s face and he fell backwards towards the apartment. Freddie yelled, but Mack charged forward and the two men fought in the hallway. The tight space made it difficult to maneuver, but Rhett was used to close encounter scuffles like this. Zach had dragged his ass into enough of them in bars and alleyways when he was too drunk to stop shooting his mouth off.
Blood seeped from Rhett’s mouth, but his fist connected one more time with Mack’s face. He yelped in pain, staggering backwards as he held his face.
“Damn it! I think you broke my nose!” he yelled.
“Let’s go,” Freddie urged, shoving Rhett towards the elevators. “Before he calls the cops.”
“You ruined my face!” Mack continued to yell. “I’m not going to let you live this down, Macon!”
“Oh, piss off,” he shouted back. The elevator opened and Freddie shoved him inside hard, smashing her hand against the button for the lobby. “Shit,” he whispered, touching his busted lip gingerly. “How bad?”
Freddie eyed his face, and he expected her to lecture him on being an idiot. Instead, she laughed, a soft chuckle at first that turned into a full-on cackle. She held her sides and tears slipped from her eyes. “You know, I’d pay to see you kick his ass all over again.”
“Five bucks and I might just go do it,” he teased.
“How about a drink instead?” she offered catching him off-guard. She bounced on the balls of her feet when he didn’t respond right away. “I mean, only if you want to. You can say no.”
“Yes,” he answered, nodding his head. “A drink would be good for both of us, I think.”
“Good. Would it be too forward if I asked you back to my place for it?”
“I planned on giving you a ride anyway since your car is still at the office, and with the way traffic will be soon, we’ll never get you home at a decent time.” She’d asked him to join her for a drink at her house. The arrogant college man that still existed inside him smiled and ran through his best pickup lines, but Rhett already knew none of them would work on her, not after the meathead she’d spent the past year or so with.
“Right, no car,” she mumbled as they stepped into the lobby. “Would you, uh, mind giving me a ride to work in the morning, too? If it’s not too much trouble. Hell, I don’t even know where you live. It’s too far, never mind.”
She pulled her phone from her purse as he watched, confused. “What are you doing?”
“Calling a cab to take me back to the office,” she told him. “Really, I live almost an hour away.”
“So? I fail to see the problem here.”
“That’s a long drive and I’m sure you live in the city.”
He shrugged one shoulder, swinging his keys around his finger. “And would it surprise you that much if I said I didn’t?”
“Actually, no,” she said, her brow crinkling. “You’re sure it’s no trouble?”
“Hell no. Besides,” he said, opening the car door for her, “you, my dear Freddie, owe me a drink. I think my bleeding lip and I deserve that much.”
Her cheeks flushed as she smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I never expected him to react that badly.”
“Men do stupid shit.”
“Were you one of those men?” she asked, her brow rising and a playful smile at her lips.
“We can talk about my sordid past after a few drinks.” Or never. Never would be better. Talking about himself and his life were topics women he dated rarely, if ever, brought up. They cared more about getting into his bed and wallet. He would let them for a time. Freddie was a breath of fresh air, the type of woman he’d expected would elude him for most of his lif
e. Yet he managed to get into a fist fight with her ex, protecting her honor like some damn hero from a fairy tale.
What he wanted to talk about was her life. Mack mentioned her sick mom, but the crazy running in the family? He sensed that had something to do with the ribbons tattooed on Freddie’s wrist. A neon green and a blue one intertwined on her skin. They had nothing to do with cancer, and he was pretty sure the neon green was for mental illness of some kind. He had spent one afternoon Googling them, curious over why she would have that tattoo.
Once they both had a few drinks in them, who knew where the conversation would lead…as long as he learned more about Freddie Sable.
Chapter 5
Freddie unlocked the front door. “Here’s home,” she told Rhett as he stepped inside behind her. “It’s not much, but I’m alone here so it works.”
“It’s quaint,” he said, his eyes lighting up as he admired the cozy living room with its overstuffed couch and chair with ottoman, all of it mismatched and having nothing to do with the crazy blue and white rug beneath it. “You certainly have your own unique style.”
She dropped her purse on the small entry table. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should,” he agreed, that cocky grin spreading across his face.
Her heart fluttered and her cheeks warmed. Kicking her heels off, she noticed his eyes dart to her bare feet. “Drinks, right. We need drinks.”
She untucked her blouse too, slipping into her usual routine when she came home from work. The tiny kitchen wasn’t big enough for a table, so she had a small bench beneath the windows and a short table in front to suffice. Since her mom died and Clarice wasn’t home, she was alone most of the time. Rosie joined her sometimes for dinner, but those were rare occasions when she was in a mood to deal with her old neighbor’s stories of her multiple past husbands.
“Are you a beer man, wine man, or scotch?” she asked as Rhett observed her kitchen as he had her living room. “Don’t mind the cabinets falling off the hinges. I haven’t had a chance to make repairs.”
“Got a screwdriver?” he asked, shrugged out of his jacket, and laid it on the kitchen table.
“Seriously? No way, you sufficiently beat up my ex—which is something I wanted to do—and you have a split lip because of it. You are not fixing my cabinetry.”
He moved closer and her hand slipped off the fridge handle. “Screwdriver, Freddie.”
“Top drawer,” she said roughly. “Over there.”
He found the tool and set to work fixing the three cabinets hanging by loose hinges. “And I’m a beer man.”
Freddie stood by the fridge door as he rolled up his sleeves, revealing well-defined forearms. The fabric bulged over his biceps as he lifted his arms and readjusted the door, murmuring under his breath as he fixed one door and the next. She patted her chest and ducked into the fridge when he paused to glance her way.
Cocky man, she thought as that smile graced her again. Not that she was upset about it. It suited him, that grin, and the way he carried himself. In all the time Mack spent in her kitchen, he either didn’t notice her home was in need of help or simply didn’t care. Two beers in hand, she closed the fridge and popped the caps with the bottle opener on the fridge.
“There,” Rhett said happily. “I think they’ll hold for a while.”
“Thanks.”
She handed him a beer and they clanked the necks of their bottles. She fiddled with her mom’s ring on her finger, spinning it around and around as she stood with her boss in her kitchen. No, not her boss. Not tonight, at least. Standing in her kitchen was a man who had offered to face down her ex with her and took a hit, who fixed her damn cabinets, and stood up for her against his own people at the office.
“So, that ring,” Rhett said, nodding to her hand, “you said it was your mom’s?”
Freddie held up her hand so the light reflected off the solitary sapphire. “Yes, her promise ring from my dad. They were never married, but I liked to think he loved her.”
“What happened to him?”
“He…uh, he left us,” she said, unsure why she was so willing to confide in him. “He walked out on us when I was seven.” She stopped herself before she said anything about her sister. Clarice was a touchy subject. He could ask about her life, but not about her baby sister.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said softly, squeezing her hand as he had right before they’d faced Mack.
“It’s all right. Mom did her best, but she was gone too soon.”
“And your dad? You never saw him again?”
She sipped at her beer, remembering that day in the rain, standing over her mom’s coffin as they lowered it into the ground. “No, he didn’t even come to her funeral.” She gulped more of her beer, wiping her mouth on her arm. “What about mister CEO? How’s your family life? Parents?”
His smile was bitter. “That’s a very complicated and long answer.”
Freddie pulled two more beers from the fridge and motioned for him to follow her into the living room. She tucked her feet under her as she sat on the couch and patted the cushion beside her. Since meeting him, this was the first time she’d sensed doubt about himself.
“My parents are retired and travel constantly,” he explained. “The family business fell to me and my four older brothers.”
“Well, it doesn’t sound like you had a boring childhood.”
“No, I definitely did not have that,” he agreed thoughtfully. “By the time I was born, my dad had my brothers’ lives mapped out for them. But me? Let’s just say son number five wasn’t exactly part of the plan, so I did what I wanted. Went where I wanted. I was the carefree baby brother.”
“And from that mischievous glint in your eyes, I’d say you found yourself in a fair amount of trouble,” she guessed, and he laughed with her.
“You could say that. Me and the guys, we were always out late, finding parties.”
Freddie envied him. When she went to college, her only thoughts were of graduating so she could find a job, make some money, and support her family. She found Mack at college and was swept away by his charm, falling for the first guy who was nice to her. She regretted the last few years of her life. She’d stuck with a man who would rather cheat on her and lie than tell her the truth when he was unhappy or when he couldn’t respect what she wanted.
“I’m sure you’ve had plenty of girlfriends to go along with those days, too,” she added.
He smiled widely as if remembering them all, and a strange pang of jealousy shot right through her. “Flings, mostly, but no real girlfriends. None that lasted long, anyway.”
“Why did you give up the life of a bachelor?” she asked. “It sounds like you had it pretty good.”
“Honestly? As much fun as I have with my friends—those fancy suited men I brought with me—that kind of life gets old. That, and my brothers expect more from me because of who I am.” He sulked as he finished his first beer and started on the second. “They want me to be like them, to live up to the great Macon name and make something of myself. That’s what this takeover is really about. The plan was to incorporate the company and place me in charge. If I do well, I earn my brothers’ good graces.”
“And if not?”
He crossed his feet at the ankles, not meeting her gaze. “I don’t know. I lose my chance at being a young, hotshot CEO, and LM Solutions will be absorbed into my family’s company, I guess.”
Freddie set her bottle down hard. “Will I have a job if this happens?”
His head shot up and his eyes widened as if he hadn’t thought what could happen to all the people working at the company if he failed to do what his brothers wanted. She waited for him to assure her that his older brothers promised jobs for everyone at their mother company, but no sound came out of his mouth.
“You have to prove to them that you can do this,” she ordered. “You can’t think only of yourself.”
“I’m going to try—”
“Yo
u have to do more than try,” she insisted with a stern look. “You have to succeed. If you don’t, I won’t have a job, and I can’t… I can’t afford to be out on my ass for very long. A lot of your other employees can’t be either. We need you to step up, Rhett. Do you understand me?”
He held her hand securely in his and stared her in the eye. “I will do everything I can for you and the other employees. Honest.”
“I hope so. You took over a tight-knit company and none of us want to go anywhere yet. We have faith in you, Rhett.”
“Don’t say that,” he mumbled. “I’m not used to people relying on me like this.”
“Well, you’d better get used to it.” She squeezed his hand. “We’ll do whatever you need us to do, but you and your buddies have to step it up. Our old boss was a nice man, but he didn’t want to modernize the company to lead us forward. You can do that. You can be the man who changes things and makes something great for everyone, including yourself.”
His thumb smoothed over her knuckles as he said, “You’re really great at motivational speeches, you know that?”
“I’ve had to make quite a few of them over the years.”
“Your mom?”
No, not so much, but my sister. My poor, sick sister, she thought and fought the wave of emotions threatening to break through. Worry at what he would think if he knew the truth about her family and their history made her almost forget to breathe. She’d thought she liked Mack all those years, had almost loved the man, but sitting here with Rhett, she knew she’d felt nothing real for that bastard. Rhett instilled a warmth inside her she couldn’t describe, but she wanted it to stay. The few friends she had from college and the days before had slipped away from her. She’d been too busy dealing with her mom and Clarice to maintain friendships. She was alone, and that loneliness hung over her like a dark shroud.
Rhett was the first person she was able to have a casual conversation with about her life—the parts of it she was comfortable talking about so far. Opening up to Clarice had its ups and downs. She wasn’t supposed to stress her sister, and Rosie… well, Rosie found it more entertaining if she lectured Freddie on how to live her life and shared past stories of her success instead of actually listening. The old woman was a Godsend, but Freddie missed having someone she could sit with on her couch, drink some beers, and simply talk.