In a nonchalant move, he turned to face the street while answering the phone that’d never stopped ringing, and still, even with more distance between them, Sara felt him in every pore of her body. Him. Her boss. The freaking owner of the bank she worked for.
Yet that wasn’t what scared her the most.
Through it all, she hadn’t been able to shake how good that connection had felt—how right.
Sage’s “I told you so” sang its way through Sara’s head. The man hadn’t even had to wave his dick in her face while doing the hula. She’d conjured an imagined reaction from him simply because he’d asked her to stay.
On some level, she knew that made her pathetic, but couldn’t she enjoy the illusion for a few minutes more? Who would it hurt if she stayed for a shared cup of coffee? A platonic cup of coffee? Hell, who would it hurt if that coffee turned into something else? She didn’t love Jacob. She didn’t have any feelings for him at all other than attraction. One night together wouldn’t mean anything. What if she just needed one night to get all of this angst out of her system? They could sleep together, say goodbye, and then he could move on to the next chick and she’d be free to go after someone with less sex appeal like she always did.
Sara’s mind spun more fantasies as she snuggled into his jacket, pulling the collar tight around her chin. Unable to stop herself, she inhaled his scent. The midnight blue of the suit he wore hid most of his gorgeous coloring, but now that his coat no longer blocked her view of the rest of him, the tailored pants that hugged his lower body to perfection showed off an ass so firm she wanted to sink her teeth into it. What would it be like to spend a night with him in his bed?
She bet it’d be intense. Just look at him. Big, strong shoulders bunched up in tension while his free hand raked a path through the wavy chestnut hair that curled up around his collar. He could probably bring her to orgasm with just a glance—
Jacob shouted into the phone, “You KNOW you matter to me!”
Huh…? That stopped Sara’s fantasy quick and caused a familiar sinking feeling in her stomach. She’d experienced that feeling for the first time in her family’s living room at the age of fifteen.
Who had she been kidding? Of course someone would get hurt. And of course Jacob had wanted more than to share a cup of coffee with her. A man didn’t ask a woman he didn’t know to spend time with him just to chat. He’d asked her for the same reason she’d wanted to say yes. And he’d done it despite the reason she should’ve said no. He clearly had a girlfriend.
See? That was the problem with lust. It blindsided people, making them willing to believe truths that weren’t there. It left behind girlfriends, wives, and children, and made the innocent pay for the actions of the selfish. Just five minutes alone with Jacob and Sara had allowed her hormones to get the better of her. She knew next to nothing about the man, besides the fact that he co-owned BCF Bank and Trust with his father, yet because of the level of passion he’d brought out in her, she’d been willing to forget about the promise she’d made to herself.
As much anger as that instilled in her, she didn’t place all the blame at Jacob’s feet. It wasn’t his fault that she had an overactive imagination when it came to him. Her fantasies were what helped to make her job at the bank tolerable. Harrison had turned into a tyrant and without those fantasies, she’d never have been able to stomach the deal she’d made with the devil to pay off student loans the size of a small mortgage. Thoughts of Jacob’s bronze skin touching hers kept her motivated instead of wallowing in a pit of despair that her college degree had been useless.
Jacob spoke again into his phone, “Of course I want to spend time with you. Just not now.”
And why would that be, hmm? Because he’d made plans to cheat?
Sara narrowed her eyes at the man who’d just lost his place of honor in her mind. Why, oh why, did you have to turn out to be such a jerk?
She almost laughed at her naivety. He was a jerk because with his looks he could get away with it. While Dan was attractive, no one would fight any wars over him. Jacob, on the other hand, could start a riot just by walking by. And Sara had fallen for that charm as if she hadn’t known where it would lead.
She turned on her phone to check the time, and her pulse raced for a far different reason. How had fifteen minutes passed already? She should’ve been on her way to work by now. How the hell had she forgotten about her job? She’d accepted Jacob’s offer to stay as if she didn’t have responsibilities. If she got written up… Sara took off his jacket ready to toss it at him and make her getaway.
“What do you mean you’re here?” Fear saturated Jacob’s voice as if he expected his girlfriend to pop out from around the corner and catch him in the act. “Not yet? Oh, good.”
His relief infuriated Sara.
Oh, good?
Yeah, Heaven forbid the man suffer any consequences. Sara had put her job in jeopardy, his girlfriend had been discarded, but hey, at least Jacob didn’t have anything to worry about.
The bastard.
Sara wished she could channel a little of her middle sister’s attitude. No one could pull off the wronged woman routine quite like Sage. If she were there now, she’d take off with his jacket and not look back, just to teach him a lesson.
Sara glanced at the coat draped over her arm, then at Jacob. He’d lowered his voice so she could no longer hear what he was saying, but she imagined he was telling his girlfriend all the lies that men like him told their unsuspecting women.
She bunched the jacket up and threw it in her car.
That’d teach him. Let him go coatless on such a cold day. She’d give it back, of course, but in the meantime her action would let him know it wasn’t okay to play around with women. See, she was a badass. Letting him freeze would be justice enough, and cost her no more than postage. She could drop it off at the post office on her way home from work.
Satisfied she held the upper righteous hand, she grabbed her probably now cold coffee from on top of the roof. After claiming her prize, she shot the man behind her most recent troubles the evil eye and slammed her car door with more force than necessary, ignoring his confused look as she drove off.
Live and learn, buddy. Live and learn. She certainly had.
With five minutes until the start of her shift and still at best fifteen minutes away, Sara discarded Jacob from her thoughts as she whipped around corners, passing anyone doing less than fifty. If she managed to make it by ten after nine, she’d have a chance at beating Harrison. With his mood lately, he’d never let her tardiness slide, no matter how late he typically arrived himself. There were rumors BCF was closing a few branches, and with her location slipping from the number one branch to number three, Harrison had been threatening to fire anyone he saw as dead weight. Having a write up in her file wouldn’t look good come employee-evaluation time.
Sara cranked the wheel hard at the last turn and a silent cheer died on her lips. As if in karmic retribution, she pulled into the parking lot void of Harrison’s car at the same time Jacob’s jacket slid off the passenger’s seat. Peeking out of the expensive wool lay a black leather wallet.
Jacob’s wallet.
She hadn’t just taken the man’s coat; she’d actually stolen her boss’s wallet. Cash, credit cards, and license included. Talk about something not looking good come employee-evaluation time. That wasn’t just write-up worthy; it was criminal.
Jesus take the fucking wheel.
2
Oh, yeah, she’d definitely screwed herself over good. What would she do if Jacob filed a police report…?
Sara glanced towards her best friend’s desk as if the woman could save her, then followed Harrison into his office. Their manager had pulled into the parking lot right behind Sara and that was the least of her problems this morning. She could only imagine what Bel would say once she joined her out on the sales floor. No one who knew her would ever believe she’d messed up this badly. If she’d been smart, she would’ve returned to The Morning
After right after she’d realized her mistake. At least then she’d only be dealing with having pissed off Harrison and not facing possible jail time. Did people even go to jail for such a minor theft?
“I should write you up, you know.”
Sara chewed on her lip, trying to look remorseful while Harrison paced the floor. Her nervousness grew as he trekked from the far wall, to the bookshelves filled with the various awards the branch had won, to the coatrack he had standing in the corner. Was he really that angry that he couldn’t stay still? She sat on the edge of one of the two chairs he had across from his desk and silently cursed herself out yet again. “I’m sorry—”
“Save the apology.” He pointed to the to-go cup in her hand, then walked over to the window that looked out into the lobby. “Clearly getting coffee was more important to you than getting here on time or answering my phone call.”
Sara cringed. She’d completely forgotten that he’d called. “I…” What could she say? She’d couldn’t very well tell him that a meeting with their boss had made her late. Nor could she mention that he’d been just as late as her. Six months ago, they’d had a somewhat decent working relationship, but something had changed. He’d gone from being mildly unreasonable to seeming angry most days now, even when everything ran smoothly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have stopped for coffee.” Actually, Sara shouldn’t have allowed a man to distract her so much she’d forgotten her common sense, but admitting that to Harrison would hardly be beneficial, not when the cell phone he’d placed on his desk vibrated, and his features pinched even more.
Back when she’d first started at BCF, she’d thought he was handsome. He had a bodybuilder physique and rocked a bald head by choice just like her father, but also like her father, once his attitude changed to one of a more self-serving nature, he’d become unattractive to her.
What ever happened to people treating others like they wanted to be treated?
Harrison glanced at her again and Sara waited for the disciplinary action to come. She could probably fight it if she wanted to—she’d barely missed their ten-minute grace period—but what would be the point? As soon as she walked out of his office, she’d have to call Jacob at corporate, and then all bets would be off. What bank wanted a thief as an employee?
“Listen. Do me a favor and I’ll forget about you being late. This time.”
Harrison’s statement caught her off-guard. He looked at her like she should fall at his feet in gratitude, but all she could do was stare.
Harrison had let her off without even a slap on the wrist?
That didn’t make sense, especially not with his change of attitude lately.
“I called you earlier because I need you to cover for me. I have somewhere I need to be. Say you’ll do it, and this will serve as a verbal warning that stays between us.”
Wow, he’d been serious. He wasn’t going to write her up. “Um, yeah. Of course I can.” Why should she care that his offer was sort of blackmail or that this was the second time in two weeks that he’d disappeared right after opening? If he could be reasonable, it gave her hope she might find a way out with Jacob as well.
Maybe she could return his jacket to corporate after hours and remain anonymous. The building had security on staff twenty-four hours a day, and if she did it today, she might be able to avoid any repercussions. Would a busy man like him have time to file a police report during working hours?
Sara called on the faith she’d held for as long as she could remember and prayed for a good outcome. She might have given up on going to church along with the rest of her family when their childhood pastor had condemned Sage just for being her, but she’d never let go of what their mother had instilled in them. God was love. Period. End of story. And Sara could use a little of His saving grace in her life right now.
She left Harrison’s office and walked toward Bel’s station and the support that awaited her there. The soft yellow of her friend’s blouse gave Bel’s naturally golden skin an ethereal glow, making her look even better than her usual perfection.
Bel rose and gave Sara a quick hug. “Uh-oh. You’re wearing your boots in here? That can’t be good. What happened?”
“You mean besides me getting on Harrison’s shitlist?”
Bel dismissed the mention of their manager with a wave of her hand. “I couldn’t care less about him. I mean, really, who takes anyone who wears a yellow-and-purple polka dotted tie seriously?”
Despite the craptastic way Sara’s day had started, she laughed at her friend’s disgust at such a poor wardrobe choice. Bel had a fashion sense that rivaled Sage’s. Even though she couldn’t afford the extravagances that Sara’s sister splurged on, Bel somehow still managed to create runway worthy outfits out of clothes she found off the rack at Target and thrift stores.
Sara envied her friend’s ability to wear anything. The two of them measured the same height, but that was their only similarity as far as their figures. Sara weighed one-seventy and the majority of it came from her boobs; Bel’s frame was more of a willow branch swaying in the wind. The few times Sara had tried on some of the things in Bel’s closet, she’d alternated between looking like a frumpy grandmother to an adult trying on kid’s clothing.
Out of necessity, Sara’s style took on a more bohemian look. Long skirts, jeans with holes, and tank tops were what looked best. For work, she splurged and added a dressy sweater like the one she wore today, but that was the extent to her extravagance. Well, that and her boots.
“So, what do you want to tell me first? What happened to make you risk wearing your boots in here, or what Satan’s helper came in fuming about?”
“Harrison has been a tyrant lately, hasn’t he?”
“A poorly dressed tyrant.”
Sara chuckled again. She might dislike their boss, but Bel hated him. She had since the beginning. “I can’t believe I’m about to defend Harrison, especially after he just bitched me out for being as late as he was, but you have to admit it’s sweet he lets his girlfriend’s daughter pick out his clothes for the day.” The eight-year-old dreamed of being a fashion designer, and by all appearances he was her willing guinea pig.
“You call it sweet, I call it suspicious. That man doesn’t do anything without an ulterior motive. I doubt he even knows what love is.”
Didn’t he? When his girlfriend came around, Harrison softened. He went from being somewhat of a bully to opening doors for the woman, tucking her under the protective curve of his arm as they walked, and hell, sometimes he even smiled at customers.
But he wasn’t smiling right now. He glared out at Sara from behind the window in his office and pointed to his watch and then to the front door. She whispered to Bel, “We’ll have to finish our conversation later. Ready to open?” It was ten minutes early, but who was she to argue?
She left Bel and made her way cautiously to the front.
Her friend had every reason to question her footwear today. Their cleaning staff kept the floors polished almost nightly and her boots liked the opportunity to pretend they were skis. Sara slipped nearly every time she wore them at work and she now questioned herself, too, for thinking them a good choice—though in light of her morning, they were hardly the worst choice she’d made since waking up.
Watching her step, Sara walked without incident through the first set of double doors that opened into the lobby, then flipped the locks on the pair that led out to the parking lot before heading back inside.
So far, so good. Who knows, maybe my day is looking up…
Her right boot slipped out from under her, proving her wrong. The only thing looking up was her gaze as gravity fought hard to claim its prize of her rear end. While she flailed trying to catch her balance, she at least had a great view. Pristine white paneling on the lower portion of each wall turned quickly shifted in her field of vision to the deep royal blue paint that stretched all the way to the ceiling that she now stared at. She grabbed at the nearby freestanding counter, struggling for an upright p
osition that no longer included her on her back on the floor looking up at the crystal chandelier that lit the lobby. She hoisted herself up, relying on the counter to withstand the full amount of her weight until her feet were safely underneath her again. Thankfully BCF only allowed furnishings of good quality instead of flimsy particle board or she’d be on her ass again. In addition to the marbled counter she currently held onto, two floor-to-ceiling pillars stood sentinel on either side of the teller line, made of the same solid mahogany as every desk and table in the place. And she knew firsthand how sturdy each of those furnishings were thanks to her beloved boots.
Bel applauded like the traitor she was and loudly asked, “Anyone care to take a bet on how long until Sara falls again?”
With feigned dignity, Sara straightened her ankle-length skirt. “Very funny. Real friends don’t make jokes at each other’s expense. Did I make fun of you when you fell off the stage last weekend at karaoke night?” Sara maintained an innocent expression while she restocked the counter with deposit and withdrawal slips. Might as well make herself useful since she was there anyway.
“As a matter of fact, I believe what you said was, ‘Not living up to your name tonight, are you, Isabel Grace?’”
RJ and Naomi laughed from behind the teller line and Sara bowed for their benefit. Sometimes her wit really was on point.
Now if she could just get the rest of her life that way…
Sara limped back to her desk, rubbing her hip. Was it too late to call for a do-over for the day?
“I realize this isn’t what anyone wants to hear.” Jacob’s voice came through from the speaker phone in Harrison’s office, giving rest to some of the rumors going around.
Or at least that’s what he claimed to do.
For Sara, his voice did anything but give her rest.
She hated that she still found the sound of it sexy. With Harrison out for the day, she’d taken the lunchtime conference call designated for branch managers only per his request, and she now stared at the phone afraid to breathe in case Jacob heard her and called on her to say something. Normally she didn’t mind conference calls, but normally the owner didn’t run them either. Since they’d met in person a few short hours ago, what would she do if he recognized her voice? She wouldn’t feel in the clear until she’d returned his coat and wallet and she couldn’t do that until after her shift ended.
Morrow's Horizon (The Morrow Women Series Book 1) Page 3