Graphic

by Suzanne Steele

  She tried to not take the job. She really did. She knew she wasn’t, nor would she ever be, cut out to be anybody’s emotional punching bag. That first interview she had was so damn embarrassing. She couldn’t get out of that man’s office fast enough. The shame and embarrassment she felt at even answering the ad was much worse than she could have ever imagined. What she had no way of knowing was that she had put something in motion that was far bigger than she could, or would, ever be able to handle. She spent the rest of the week going on interviews and she finally got a call back that she had been hired for a small printing shop. She would work on commission, but she was a go getter and she would do fine.

  Everything was going fine until two days later when her boss called her into his office.

  “Lydia, there’s no easy way to say this. Donald Flannigan called and… well, he implied if you don’t get your ass back over to his office and take that job he offered you that he’ll quit using us.”

  “Why would he do this?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them—more like she was thinking out loud. His answer was more like a plea to understand that Donald had him over a barrel.

  “We do all of his printing. He’s our biggest client. We’re just a small mom and pop business. We really can’t afford to lose a contract that big.”

  She said what she always said when she didn’t know how to respond. “I understand.”

  Two days later she was seated in front of Donald’s desk being informed that she was to be his personal assistant on an upcoming business venture.

  “Lydia I’m willing to pay you well—very well. I don’t want to fuck you. All you have to do is act like whatever I need you to act like, you know, my girlfriend. For lack of a better term, you’d be arm candy.” He smiled in an effort to weaken her resolve. “You’re a beautiful woman. I’m asking you to make me look good, that’s all.”

  “Donald, why don’t you have a girlfriend? You’re nice enough. Well, not really. You’ve got a good job. I would think any woman looking for stability would be honored to have you. Not every woman is looking for some GQ model. Believe me… there are a ton of us who don’t want a man like that.”

  That… got his attention. “Why?”

  “Because a lot of men like that are players. They fuck around. Women throw themselves at them, and men can only withstand that kind of temptation so long before they give in.”

  Something broke in both of them when she said that. It was the first time since they’d met that they both felt like they could be friends.

  She watched as he wrote on a piece of paper and slid it over in her direction. The six figures, and the promise of not having to sleep with him, was enough to make her say yes. She had no way of knowing her life would never be the same. The thought that more than troubled her was how he had managed to cost her a job that she had secured. Was her boss a more powerful man than she had previously believed? She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made one of the most dangerous mistakes a person can make—underestimating the opponent.

  Chapter Three

  After they reached an agreement they spent the rest of the day getting settled in. Donald coming right out and telling her he wasn’t hiring her to sleep with him put her mind at ease. Her life was out of control enough. That was one choice she planned on controlling. She’d spent too many years fighting off her drunk mother’s boyfriends. She wasn’t going to do it now for any amount of money. She’d fuck who she wanted, when she wanted.

  When she looked up and saw Donald in the doorway watching her, she could tell he was troubled about something. He was ebbing away at the resentment she’d been feeling towards him.

  “Will you accompany me to dinner? I’m paying.” The smile on his face looked forced and she almost felt sorry for him. The man standing in front of her wasn’t the same asshole that hired her. Something was going on with her boss. If she knew how to do anything, it was read people.

  “Just dinner, right?” The coy smile gave away the playful intent in her question. She pushed her curly blonde hair out of her face. Though her hair had a mind of its own, it still looked professional in the long layered bobbed cut she kept it in.

  He shrugged, eyeing her. The worry lines in his creased brow assured her she was reading the situation correctly.

  “A companion. That’s it. I don’t date. It’s too complicated.” He shrugged again like it would help explain his reasoning.

  She looked down at the white button up shirt and pencil black skirt she was wearing.

  “You look great. You’re dressed perfect for where we’re going.”

  “Okay, I could use a bite to eat.”

  She grabbed her bag and headed towards her car. “I’ll follow you.” Trusting men wasn’t something she’d mastered yet—nor wanted to.

  “That’s fine.” He answered without so much of a glance over his shoulder. She used the drive to try and figure out what was going on in his head. She didn’t know the man well enough to know what could be bugging him.

  When she pulled up in front of the restaurant she looked down at her clothing again. It was evident this was a high-end restaurant. She reassured herself that people probably came here for drinks and business meetings all the time.

  Donald gave his name and they were ushered to a table where they sat and immediately ordered drinks.

  “I’ll have a martini, Linda, and the lady will have a Ciroc with a spritz of olive juice.”

  “How’d you know what I drink?”

  “It’s my job to know, Lydia. You alternate flavors and mixers, but always Ciroc.”

  He smiled at the waitress as she whisked away to get their orders. Hmm, another forced smile.

  She could feel someone’s eyes on her and her breath hitched when she saw a tall, dark, and very dangerous looking man leaned against the bar staring at her. She’d spent her life paying attention—had to, just to survive. There were some who attempted to look a certain way for a perceived image. There were others who couldn’t hide who they truly were no matter how hard they tried. The expensive suit, Italian leather shoes, and Rolex did nothing to clean up the monster that went past the image and straight to the eyes where the truth was always revealed. Tingles ran up her spine, causing her hackles to rise. The look on his face was that of a predator eyeing prey. In no way was he attempting to hide it. Women had a sixth sense and she’d learned to listen to hers years ago.

  She grabbed her drink and tossed it back in an effort to calm what she was feeling. No amount of telling herself, maybe it’s just me, was going to squelch the trepidation she was feeling right now.

  “Who is that man, Donald?”

  “Not someone you want to know.”

  Damn straight I don’t. She lifted her glass in an effort to get another drink but the waitress didn’t see her.

  “You never told me how you managed to get me fired from my job at the publishing house.” She smiled to let him know she wasn’t as pissed about it anymore. The need to know what was bugging him was overriding the need to make any points.

  “You looked so bewildered sitting there in front of my desk that day”—he chuckled and it was the first time she’d seen a smile reach his eyes—“I needed a woman with a certain look to accompany me to different events, and you fit the criteria.”

  “Okay…”

  “Business, yet sexy.” He said it like he was concerned about how she may have taken the comment. “I purposely waited a week just to fuck with you.”

  “You really are an asshole.”

  “Point taken. Anyway… Bill, the guy who owns the publishing house, is a golfing buddy of mine.”

  “Ma’am. I’m so sorry”—the waitress set a drink down in front of Lydia—“we’re just really busy. Drinks are on the house for you the rest of the evening. Like I said, I’m really sorry.”

  Lydia noted when the waitress looked over her shoulder with fear filled eyes, they landed on Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous. He was still leaned against the bar
staring at Lydia like a predator. Okay, this shit’s getting weird. Lydia quickly looked away from him. The last thing she wanted to do was look him right in the eye. Ignore him for your own safety’s sake. She made a mental note to find out more about him in case she ended up being up against something—or worse yet, someone out of her league, wit wise.

  “No problem”—she took a minute to look at the waitress’ name tag—“Stacy. The place is packed. I don’t envy your stress level, that’s for sure.” She was relieved when she saw relief wash over her face. My gosh. What’s the man going to do to the poor girl for missing an order?

  Lydia directed her attention back to Donald. For now, he was a great diversion from the crazy man at the bar. This is the weirdest night I’ve had in awhile.

  She placed her hand on top of Donald’s and looked at him, forcing him to meet her gaze. “What’s going on with you?”

  His head jerked up, and the pleading look in his eyes told her all she needed to know—something was up. “Look… this isn’t something you want to be involved in. I’ve got this. The last thing I’m going to do is drag you into my issues. No questions.”

  “Okay, I’m not going to press the issue, Donald, if and when you decide you need to talk, I’m here.”

  She kept the conversation light as they finished dinner.

  “I’m a little bit embarrassed to say this but… well, I think it would be better if I left my car here and you drove me home—the drinks and all.” She shrugged.

  “That won’t be necessary.” A smooth baritone voice washed over her like warm honey awakening her senses. There wasn’t a need to turn around to see who it was. Every one of her senses was already heightened, aware of the mystery man.

  “That’s your cue to leave, Donald. Now!”

  Damn…no he didn’t. His tone was even, but it left no room for question. She knew Donald would be leaving without her.

  Chapter Four

  He knew she was purposely not turning around to look at him. Just like he’d purposely stood at the bar all night staring at her to make her uncomfortable. He placed both of his hands on the back of the chair she was seated in, to intensify the nervous energy she was giving off. She was doing a good job trying to hide it, and he knew the drinks he’d been purposely pumping into her system were helping to mask it. But he could smell her fear. He was a predator by nature, and she didn’t know it yet… but she was prey—his for the taking.

  She watched Donald, needing to see how he reacted. She wondered how scared she should have been of the tall dark stranger. It was almost funny the way he had to steady the chair to keep from knocking it over, in an effort to get out of my restaurant as fast as he could.

  “I’m sorry, Lydia—so very sorry. I never meant to get you mixed up in this. I’ll- I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She jumped when the mystery man leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Your chariot awaits.”

  “No. My cab awaits!” She threw the linen napkin to the side and almost sent the chair flying as she got up and made her way to the door.

  He entertained himself watching that fine ass of hers in the black fitted skirt she was wearing. She made her way through the door, slamming it open so hard that he had to move out of the way to keep from getting hit with it.

  He lucked out when her shoe hit a crack in the sidewalk just right, breaking the heel off. He caught her by her arm to keep her from falling—of course the fact it was pouring down raining didn’t help either. It’s damn sure working in my favor though, he thought to himself.

  His driver stood outside the car holding the door open. It always amazes me how well he acts like he doesn’t see the crazy shit I do, the mystery man mused.

  “You can’t very well deprive me of offering you a ride home after I broke your shoe. Please…” He was trying to look innocent, wasn’t sure if it was working or not.

  She glared at him, reluctantly sliding in. He rushed to the other side before she could change her mind. Something about her feisty spirit solidified his need to capture—to control. He slid in next to her and waited until his driver, Heinz, took off before he looked over in her direction and handed her a monogrammed handkerchief. He was intrigued when she studied the initials on it but didn’t ask his name. He didn’t offer it either.

  “Seriously… I’m soaked to the bone and you think this is going to fix it? Not to mention my one good pair of shoes is ruined.”

  “I’m certain your boss won’t mind you wearing your tennies to work tomorrow.” Something in him needed to stir up the fight in her.

  “You’re sarcastic.” She looked at him like she hated him, but as far as he was concerned, the only thing she accomplished was being adorable.

  “You’re rude.”

  “Look buddy, I don’t know who you are, or what kind of game you’re playing, but you can play it with somebody else.”

  “I don’t play games. Ever.” Something about the look on his face and the iced edge in his voice must have resonated truth, because the little hell cat shut up.

  Neither one spoke until they pulled up to her apartment.

  “Give me your keys.”

  “Are you crazy? I’m not giving you a damn thing.”

  “Yes I am. What you give me... well, that remains to be seen. I’m just going to unlock your door for you, lady.” The fact that he was irritated with the woman was evident, but it shocked her enough to respond, because she handed him the keys.

  “Wait here.” He ran up to her door and unlocked it. When he got back to the car, he opened her door and scooped her out before she could say anything. He set her down inside her door and turned to leave.

  “Goodnight, and you’re welcome!”

  She could hear his laughter when she slammed the door. It only infuriated her more.

  She would work perfectly for what he had in mind—this… was going to be fun.

  Chapter Five

  Shit, shit, shit, late doesn’t even begin to describe what I am today. When Lydia woke up and saw how late she was running, she didn’t end up going in with tennis shoes on, but she did opt for jeans, a button up shirt with a blazer and flats. Donald wasn’t going to care about the fact she came in casual—she wasn’t so sure he’d be as gracious about how late she was though.

  She took a deep breath before entering Donald’s office, and she was stunned to see the man from the night before seated in front of his desk. When he stood, he looked even larger than he had the night before. In true predator style his eyes locked on hers, but she was too busy taking in the way he was dressed to notice. The man looked like he just walked off of the cover of a magazine. She didn’t remember him looking this good last night, and to be honest, it was distracting her. The black tailor-made suit and crisp button up shirt fit perfectly over his massive chest. Once again, he was wearing Italian leather shoes, but today they were black in color and shined to a high gloss. Damn, I’ve always had a thing for men’s shoes. Hands too. He’s looking too damn good.

  His hands were in his pockets. Too bad. He was staring down on her like he was taking in every detail of her face. Her skin tingled under the heat of his gaze. She could feel her body responding and resisted the urge to press her thighs together. She was suddenly aware of the way she was dressed, and by the way he was accessing her attire, he was too. The small hint of a curve formed on his lips—lips that up until now had been a serious straight line of intensity. She crossed her arms in front of her as if it would shield her from his piercing gaze. Something about him troubled her as much as it excited her.

  “Oh I’m sorry Donald,” she stated, in an effort to leave, anything to avoid the gaze of Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous. Staying around him would be a danger to her senses. She couldn’t afford that. She had to be all business now. Survive, girl. No distractions allowed. All business.

  The same rich, deep, velvety smooth voice that she remembered from the night before spoke, but this time she noticed a hint of an accent.

  “Well that’
s interesting, allowing the help to call you by your first name, Donald.”

  You bastard! He was clearly getting in shots for her rudeness last night. Holds a grudge. That’s good to know. She shot him a dirty look and once again his lips turned up at the corners in an almost imperceptible manner. The smile reached his eyes, manifesting itself in a wicked glint. He was purposely antagonizing her.

  In an effort to escape the intensity of the man she couldn’t ignore, she directed her gaze towards Donald. She was puzzled by Donald’s expression. He looked disconnected, almost worried. There was only one common denominator in this equation—Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous himself.

  She studied her boss as he wearily rubbed his forehead and muttered under his breath, “Can you get Dominic and me some coffee?” I know that feeling of being tired all too well. The kind of tired that has nothing to do with physical fatigue.

  “Sure.” She was officially worried about her boss who had managed to become kind of a friend over the last week. As unconventional as their relationship had been, the guy had kind of grown on her. Though he’d never be a love interest for her, he had turned out to be a nice guy, something she didn’t run across in her life, not with her past. If this asshole had gotten something on her boss, or if he was threatening him in some way, maybe she could help him.

  She finished at the coffee station and noticed trouble headed in her direction, so she quickly turned and set the tray down. One trip and fall in a twenty-four hour period was enough. This guy had a way of putting her on edge. She braced herself for whatever was coming—some sort of distress no doubt.