“I’m her mother—you’re lucky to get an invite.”
“Right, because I don’t know Kenya. After our near-death experience, her father has sense to take her out this hell hole. Funny how they moved to another state once he got full custody.”
“Watch your mouth!”
“Does it bother you I haven’t seen her since? My sister is a stranger to me because of you.” Her emotions were trying to escape the dark dungeons of her mind, where they had been trapped for years.
Judith put her hands on her hips. “You look stupid trying to get emotional. Ain’t my fault your daddy didn’t let you live with him. Hell, I would’ve gladly gave you to him.”
Tears welled up her eyes, but she held them back. “Heaven forbid I show any emotion, Judith. You despise me because of Dad. It’s not my fault he didn’t love you.”
“That bastard chose his wife over me! I gave him every chance to be with me.”
She finally broke down and began crying. “I’m sorry he didn’t leave his wife for you. I’m sorry Kenya considers the woman that raised her as her mother. You cannot blame me for your miserable life forever.”
“Don’t talk to me about those assholes! They are dead to me.”
Nikki narrowed her eyes and pushed strands of hair away from her face. “You sleep with married men and wonder why they don’t choose you? Well take a long look at yourself in a mirror, Judith; you’ll find the answer.”
She waited for the sting from Judith’s hand slapping her across the face. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been hit out of rage.
Judith’s face darkened, and her full lips thinned, revealing the pinkish discoloration from cigarettes resting on her mouth. “Get out of my house before I call you something other than your name.”
Nikki squared her shoulders; her stomach churned with a vengeance. “It will be a pleasure to get out of your house and never see your face again.” Nikki slammed the door behind her so she couldn’t hear the derogatory names spewing from Judith’s mouth.
Getting into her car, exhilaration began to creep in. She was free. The chains holding her back were broken. Never going to that house again meant she could erase the horrible childhood memories for good, and the healing for hating her mother could begin.
*****
Instead of going home, Nikki returned to the office. Judith was right about one thing: Nikki didn’t have a man to entertain and her only friend was Gayle. She spent her time in front of computer screens or occasionally under desks, helping to wire systems. She was not above getting down on her knees to help.
Work was like therapy whether she was programming, fixing, troubleshooting—she did it all when it came to computers and she loved it. She walked through the corridor, noticing the cubicles were quiet except for a radio playing music in a low volume. A small number of staff stayed at the office at night in case a major computer failure happened. The four technicians had a normal routine and were often out of the department.
Nikki flipped on the light, illuminating the office with in a yellow glow. Once the lights had warmed up, they would glow a brilliant white. Sighing, she sat down, turned on the computer, and opened a notebook filled with notes about bugs in the new software.
She chewed on the end of a pencil as she studied the screen. The coding wasn’t registering because she wasn’t concentrating. She promised this year was going to bring new beginnings—a new her. The battles with Judith were draining, and love alluded her because she wouldn’t make time to get out and mingle with people. She hoped the cruise would change that for her.
She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath imagining the sea breeze caressing her face. Passing authority to the next person in charge, for a week fun in the sun, couldn’t come soon enough. Endless margaritas, food, dancing and pure entertainment would fill her card. No thoughts of Judith or anything negative would ruin her vacation. Nope, that baggage was staying in Cleveland.
Her cell phone vibrated on the desk drawing her from a lovely daydream. Swiping her finger across the screen, she read the text message.
3302225577: I need help with my computer. Call me back immediately.
She looked at the number; it was not a Brand internal number. It had to be an executive working from home who had a list of the staffs’ cell phone numbers. She typed back with swift fingers.
NGraham: OK. What type of problem are you experiencing?
3302225577: Call me.
Nikki huffed. Her pet peeve was rude people who demanded she drop everything to tend to their emergencies. Now was not the time for her patience to be tested. She came back to work for the solitude, not to have a confrontation with a person that could get her fired.
Picking up the desk phone, she dialed the number that appeared on her cell. When a man answered, she put on her best voice, saying, “Hi. I’m Nikki Graham calling about your computer. Who am I speaking with?”
“Logan Sloan.”
The name didn’t ring a bell, so Nikki pulled up the telephone directory on her computer and typed in his name—but nothing popped up. “Mr. Sloan, can you describe the problem you’re having with the software?”
“I have what people call the blue screen of death.”
His chuckle resonated through the phone and she felt her heart leap. Whoever this guy was, he had a voice that oozed hotness. “Well, that’s not a good sign. Let me see if I can help you fix that problem. What office are you in, Mr. Sloan? I can’t seem to find you on the telephone directory.”
“I don’t work for Brand. The software I’m using came from Brand. The screen went blue as I was updating my inventory list.”
She shook her head, annoyed at the pleasant-sounding man who had no clue about computers. “Sir, I’m sorry, but the issue you’re experiencing is not caused by Brand’s software but the operating system on the computer. You’ll have to contact that company’s support line for help. Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?”
“Yes. You can fix my computer so I’ll be able to stock my restaurant. I bought the computer just two days ago.”
She rolled her eyes upward. “I’d love to do that, but I’m only allowed to troubleshoot problems caused by Brand’s products.”
“Do you want me to beg? How often do you get a call from a man asking for help? That has to be rare moment.”
She found herself grinning. “Listen, this call is recorded so I will plead the fifth. Anyhow, I can’t remote into your computer. So, even if I did know what the problem was, I can’t help you.”
“I don’t want to get you in trouble. After all, you sound like a nice person, Ms. Graham.”
“Thank you, and my advice is to call the help desk listed on the information packet that came with the computer. They’ll be able to help with that blue screen problem.”
“Thanks for trying to help me.”
His voice was deep and soft, and Nikki melted a little inside; even keeping him on the phone to hear him talk. “Sorry I couldn’t assist you. However, if ever you have a problem with Brand’s software, feel free to call back. Good night, Mr. Sloan.”
Nikki hung up before he had a chance to reply and typed quickly on the keyboard, bringing up the program that logged incoming calls. She highlighted their conversation and deleted it. She could have fixed his computer had she had remote access. She could have learned a lot about the man with the smoky voice in a few clicks and he’d never know.
But, Nikki only used her power to alter calls for people she knew and trusted. When a board member called her at home because he had opened an email that looked valid but contained pornographic pictures that infected his computer, she removed the virus and eliminated any trace of the call. She knew he would never download anything inappropriate because he was a minister and well-respected at work and in the community. If word had gotten out to someone looking to destroy him that would have done it for sure.
Her cell phone buzzed, and she swiped it open and saw the text message.
330
2225577: Is your phone being recorded?
She grinned. NGraham: No it isn’t, but I still can’t help you.
3302225577: I know. I texted you by mistake, and I apologize for bullying you. Have dinner with me. I want to make it up to you.
NGraham: You don’t owe me anything. Were you able to get your computer working?
3302225577: No. I pushed some buttons and got a black screen. Did I killed it?
Nikki laughed out loud and typed back. NGraham: You might have killed it.
The phone rang, and a lump formed in her throat. Logan Sloan was calling her cell phone again. The first call was a mistake. Why was he calling her a second time?
She tossed her hair away from her ear and answered. “Mr. Sloan, how may I assist you?”
“First, call me Logan. Second, I’d rather talk than text. My true charm doesn’t come across in one hundred forty characters.”
“I’m flattered,” she said. And she was flattered, but her unrest laid in how he’d gotten her number. “May I ask how you got my personal cell number to text me? It’s not listed on Brand’s website.”
“A friend at Brand gave me the number when I purchased the software. I got the numbers mixed up. Again, I apologize for my dumb mistake. It’s frustrating when crap doesn’t work the way it is supposed to, or in my case breaks because I’m computer illiterate.”
Nikki frowned. With over two hundred people employed at Brand, anyone could’ve been the culprit. Instead of pushing the help desk’s number to customers, her number had been offered as a way of guaranteeing customer service. That would be okay if Brand paid her cell phone bill.
“One or two classes should help,” she said leaving the stress out of her voice.
“Are you offering to teach me?”
The words just oozed out of him. Damn, he is persistent. “Well, that is impossible for me. Your area code indicates you are quite a distance from me.”
“Actually, my restaurant is located in downtown Cleveland.”
Nikki shuddered. Was the man with the sexiest voice she’d ever heard within walking distance? “Oh, OK.”
“So, will you have a drink with me tonight? I promise I won’t bite.”
She glanced at the clock; it was almost nine o’clock. Downtown Cleveland was regaining a nightlife and wouldn’t be deserted anymore. With the conversion of old and historic buildings into apartments and condominiums, downtown was becoming more residential with businesses peppered here and there. And on warm summer nights like tonight, people were out.
“I’m working. How about a raincheck?”
“I will hold you to that, Ms. Graham. I’ve taken up enough of your time; goodnight.”
The click from the other end of the phone stunned Nikki. Shaking her head, she turned off her phone. She was done entertaining the mysterious Logan Sloan for the night.
Chapter Two
Logan dreamed of doing this forever. The first year of running the restaurant flew by in a blur. He worked long hours six days a week. The one day the restaurant closed for business was when the cleaning company came in and gave everything a deep cleaning. He’d restock the inventory then as well. The new computer and software were supposed to make some tasks easier and quicker, but that was not the case tonight.
The thousands of dollars spent for the equipment sat on a desk in his office with a black screen. No F keys or letters he pushed restored the blue screen. At least the blue screen gave him hope the system was not totally dead, but the screen was black with no indication it had life.
Logan leaned his hands on the cool tile of the shower wall as steam rose up around him. He inhaled deeply through his nose, letting the pounding heat of the water hit his tense shoulders and back. Rolling his neck from side to side, he tried his best to relax and get the voice out of his head. The soft way his name rolled off her tongue was sexy as hell.
He wondered if she was pretty. Probably not—people who worked with computers had a tendency to be nerdy, withdrawn from the real world, and used computers to hide their social awkwardness. He bet Ms. Graham had messy hair, wore big glasses, and dressed liked the computer whiz portrayed on Criminal Minds. He soaped his body thinking he’d dodged a bullet and was grateful she’d declined his offer to have dinner.
Dipping his head once more under the warm stream, Logan reached down and turned the knob, shutting off the shower. He wrung the excess water from his hair and stepped out of the walk-in shower to grab the towel hanging on the rack.
As he dried off, he heard his phone buzzing in the bedroom. Grabbing his robe, he went into the bedroom and swiped the screen on his iPhone. He had two missed calls and one voicemail. He listened to the voicemail from Bargain Buy instructing him how to return the computer for repair.
Logan sighed. “Like I still have the original packaging.” He tossed the phone back on his bed.
The restaurant business seemed to run smoothly watching his parents do it as a kid. They would smile and greet each customer who walked through the door with warmth and love. After closing, they cleaned and dismissed the staff for the night and they were still smiling.
Once the family-owned restaurant became successful, his parents hired professional chefs, and his love of cooking landed him in the kitchen learning from those chefs. After high school, Logan trained as a chef at The Restaurant School at Walnut Hill College, in Philadelphia. At the tender age of thirty-three, he opened his first restaurant. He planned to model his business practices after his father, but by today’s standards, his way was outdated.
Logan admired how his parents managed to run the day-to-day operations without the use of computers, fax machines, and all the technology businesses needed today. All his dad used was a phone, and he made face-to-face contact with vendors who supplied the restaurant with quality products. He remembers his parents waking up at the crack of dawn and coming home so late at night that the babysitter had a bedroom of her own.
Growing up with parents who put all the passion and energy they had into what they loved doing was hard for Logan and his brother Axl. The boys didn’t see much of them, but when they did, it was rewarded with vacations that were fun-filled and adventurous. Hotels were five-star, and it was fine dining and first-class all the way.
That memory was eons ago. He and Axl were grown men living separate lives in different states. Logan scrubbed the towel through his wet hair again and tossed it on a pile of dirty laundry. He sat on the unmade bed too exhausted to crawl under the cover. The best part about doing long hours at the restaurant is that he lived upstairs in a spacious loft.
When he left Pittsburgh to open a restaurant in Cleveland, he chose a building big enough to have an upper floor available to convert into a living space to prevent commuting around the city.
He picked up the phone and scrolled through the text messages between him and Ms. Graham. He created an image of her the way he felt she should look. He closed his eyes concentrating when she appeared before him. What he saw made him smile. Ms. Graham, the help desk technician, was a bodacious woman standing five foot five, with long blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and curves he dared to keep his hands from touching. When he looked at her, and she smiled, he saw his angel.
Logan opened his eyes and scoffed at himself. It had been too long since he’d entertained a woman, his reason for the prompt invitation to Ms. Graham. Work consumed every bit of him, and when he had a chance to take a breath, he tried to have a little social life, exercise, and sleep.
Logan went to the dresser, took out a pair of boxers and slipped them on, and went into the living room to get his iPad. He knew sleep would elude him tonight. The damn computer blowing up created major problems he didn’t need or want to deal with tonight. Inventory would have to be done by hand. The staff would get overtime pay for helping with the inventory in the kitchen and the bar.
If he couldn’t get a new computer system up and running soon, the servers would have to rely on manual order taking instead of using the computer to place
orders with the kitchen. That would also interfere with take-out and the catering services.
He powered on the iPad hoping a backup copy of the database from last week’s inventory was saved somewhere. Logan considered himself organized but slipped at times because he’d get too busy to remember to document everything.
Thunder rattled the windows and rain pounded on the skylights above. The storm came suddenly and without warning. The day had been warm and sunny. Perfect weather brought customers to his restaurant. Still relatively new to the area, Logan had made the local news and had been interviewed by food critics, who gave rave reviews about his food and the atmosphere the restaurant created. He’d made friends with a few people who lived downtown and had gained loyal customers through them. He’d hate to lose any of them due to a failed computer system.
Logan logged off the iPad, realizing he didn’t backup of the database since the system was Windows-based. He dropped his head in his hands and released a defeated sigh. Getting up from the desk, he shut the lights off as he headed to bed. He’d wing it until he hired a geek to put the system back together again.
*****
Nikki smashed the pillow over her head, pressing it hard against her ear. It was too early for people to be calling on a Saturday. And she wasn’t on the weekend schedule. She was not obligated to answer any incoming calls from Brand.
“Stop ringing!” Her voice was muffled by the pillow covering her head. As if by magic, the phone stopped ringing.
Putting the pillow under her head, she stayed put, willing herself to fall back asleep and restart the sexy dream where she’d left off. The rough part about being alone was sleeping alone. With the storm raging last night, she laid in bed listening to the rain and watching the lightning flash weird patterns across the dark room. It was the perfect night to cuddle with that special someone. There would be soft music playing, a bottle of wine to be shared and then nature would take its course. A course that hadn’t been driven on her body for so long that weeds were growing where there shouldn’t be.
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