Finding Wicked

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Finding Wicked Page 4

by Kathryn L. James


  “There’s someone I can’t stop thinking about. I can’t stop imagining what he looks like without his suit on, but he won’t give me the time of day.”

  “Oh God, it’s Garrett Mitchell.”

  She snarled. “Good God, no. It’s Jennings. I want to taste that man’s lips so bad I can’t stand it.”

  “Does he know?”

  “Unless he’s blind, he should.”

  “Do you just want to sleep with him or see if there’s potential for something more?”

  “Both. I’d die for that man to make me scream his name and date me at the same time.”

  “Then what are you waiting for? Make a bolder move. Open up Jennings Lockwood’s eyes. He may think you’re young and beautiful and taken. Maybe because you work for his client-slash-friend, he sees you as off limits.”

  “Jennings is the kind of man who does what he wants—he wouldn’t care if Garrett had a problem with it or not.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t think you’d be interested because of the age difference.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about him being older.”

  “Maybe he thinks you do.”

  The next morning, I regretted the second bottle of wine as I nursed a serious hangover. My head throbbed, and the elevator bell sounded as if it were in the center of my eardrum. Reaching the top floor, I gawked at my image in the mirror behind Greta’s desk. I’d worn another blah-white blouse, making my skin appear paler, and no amount of makeup could hide the misery I felt. Dark shadows circled my eyes, and I groaned as I made my way into my office.

  Easing into the chair, I rubbed my temples, hoping the pain relievers I’d taken before showering did their job soon.

  “Good morning,” Garrett called out in his husky morning voice.

  “Shit, you startled me,” I whispered, drawing in a shuddering breath.

  He was a mass of perfection, striding toward me holding a sherbet-colored plastic cup. “I don’t knock, Brooke. Thought you might like a donut with your skinny latte.”

  “Um…thanks.”

  Apparently Nice Garrett had shown up that day.

  “Late night?” He scanned my face, wearing a frown.

  “Something like that. Greta, wine, and Lola’s are now off limits during the week.”

  He laughed, and it sounded so damned sexy. “There should be some over-the-counter pain medication in the top drawer in the closet.”

  “I’ll be fine—I took some before I left home.” I reached for my morning cup of happy and savored the day’s first taste of heaven. “What do you need me to do first?”

  “Do you have a passport?”

  “Yes.” I retrieved the donut, which was covered in pink glaze and colorful sprinkles. “This looks delicious.”

  “Have you ever been to paradise?”

  I almost choked on the first bite of pure sugar. It had been two long years since I’d had a big O, and up until that moment, I’d been perfectly fine with my self-imposed drought. Heat crept into my face, turning my skin a soft shade of pink.

  “Tropical paradise, Brooke—I only meant the tropics.” Humor danced at the corners of his lips as they curled into a devilish smile.

  “My mom and I…used to go to Pensacola. Does that count?”

  “Pensacola is beautiful, but not quite what I’m talking about. Salvatore has assured me everything is ready at La Amory. In two weeks, plan on spending a couple of days in St. Thomas, and another night at a small remote island. I hear it’s coming on the market soon.”

  “If it’s small and remote, the return on investment might be risky. You need to determine how long it will take to make a profit. It may take more than it’s worth if it’s not touristy.”

  “That’s why I’ll pay experts to gather data and put it all together before making an offer. George was right when he said you have a good head on your shoulders and a mind for business.”

  “Thanks.”

  His rich brown eyes—the color a cross between whiskey and espresso—flickered pure sexiness. Jolts of electricity shot through me, making my body sing to the very core.

  Trapped in his gaze, my breath caught, and it seemed like an eternity, neither of us being willing to make the first move to look away. His jaw flexed before his eyes finally dipped down to my mouth when his inner brakes must have screeched things to a stop.

  He felt it too—I know he did.

  Garrett cleared his throat. “Hang on, I want to show you something.”

  As he retreated into his office, I held my eyes on his backside. Pausing at his wide shoulders, I took him in, so tall and all male dressed in his suit. I felt my breath hitch in my chest.

  When he was no longer in sight, I emptied the air from my lungs. Something primal coursed through my blood, spreading fire down to my center core.

  I am in so much trouble.

  Garrett came back carrying a tubular canister and wearing a dazzling smile. Instead of stopping across from me, he moved around to my side. Leaning over my shoulder, his chest brushed against me, and the contact fueled the burning he caused. I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to shake off the unwanted chemistry exploding inside me.

  Slowly, he unrolled the contents of the tube on the desk in front of me and spread his arms out, holding down the corners. It was as if a drug had been placed before an addict, and I fought the urge to give in.

  “This is the place I want us to scout out and see if it’s what I think it will be. I want to introduce it to the world. It’s perfect for romance, lovers, honeymoons, and rekindling old flames. You can only get there by boat or chartered plane because there’s no commercial runway.”

  His intoxicating scent invaded my senses. It wasn’t cologne, not anything but his own masculinity. I swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on the poster-sized picture of a beautiful mass of topaz water and sugary sands lined with palm trees.

  My finger trembled as it traced where water met sky. “It’s breathtaking.”

  He pointed to the tip of the island. “This is where the resort is. You’ll see it on a smaller scale in the next picture.”

  His breath brushed against my ear, and I bit back a moan at the foreplay he didn’t know he was engaging in. Forcing myself to focus on the beautiful poster, I asked, “What’s this called?”

  “Bella Vista. It means beautiful place. There are fourteen villas I want to turn into five-star facilities fit for royalty. The rooms need renovating, and I’d want to add an infinity pool, a spa, and fine dining—make it a once-in-a-lifetime memory, tranquil and romantic.”

  I stared at the picture, too afraid to look over my shoulder at him. This was a side of Garrett Mitchell I’d never seen, and I was fairly certain no one downstairs had either. Blinking several times, I licked my lips, forging on as if the cat didn’t have my tongue.

  “The name is fitting. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

  “I want you to help me with this project, come up with designs for the rooms and the pool.”

  “I don’t know the first thing about designs, spas, or pools, Garrett. I can market it, but I can’t design anything.”

  “Learn.” He moved away, seating himself in the chair across from me.

  “I resigned.”

  “HR didn’t receive your resignation.”

  “Did you make sure of that?”

  “Something must have happened in the system. Occasionally IT shuts things down after hours for upgrades.” He smirked in the cockiest way, not fooling me in the least. He’d made that shit happen.

  “Garrett, I need my job. My mother is sick, and while I know you don’t give two shits about that, I do. I’m going to put in a transfer request today to go back to my old department. I can tolerate the job for thirty days, but afterward, I’m going back to George.”

  “If I can’t find the right person for the job, I’ll deny your request.” He leaned over my desk, flipping to the next poster. He seemed so cool and collected while I gave him a death glare.

  “Why would you do
that? You would rather fire me? Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen if I stay.” My throat went dry and a chill went through me.

  “Then don’t give me a reason to fire you.”

  I slammed my hand down in the center of the picture, making him look up at me. Thick, long eyelashes framed his intense chocolate eyes, and my whole body tensed at the powerful connection in the stare, as if the drug called my name.

  Get it together. He’s your boss, and you have a job to do.

  “Garrett, please. I need you to authorize it.”

  “I need someone with your capabilities, and I don’t have time to train anyone else any time soon. Discussion ended.”

  Chapter 5

  I hated flying—not being in the air, but the turbulence.

  Nervous butterflies fluttered around in my stomach as the pearl-colored limo delivered me to the airport. Garrett hadn’t been at the office the last two days, but he’d left me a mile-long to-do list that had kept me too busy to hone in on my fear.

  Pulling into the terminal, I scrolled through the weather app for one last check. I let out a sigh of relief as I saw it promised clear skies with zero chance of rain. The car stopped at the curb and the driver opened my door. Stepping out, I saw Garrett waiting for me.

  Adrenaline zipped through me and I forgot to breathe. Clean-shaven and wearing fitted black trousers with a button-down dark grey shirt that hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, he looked like a wickedly delicious sin. No tie, no jacket, all man.

  Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, and a smile teased the corner of his mouth. He swept his tongue over the seam of his lips as I stepped forward. I didn’t want to feel attraction, but there was no turning it off.

  It was there, loud and clear.

  He sauntered toward me, reaching to take the handle of my rolling garment bag from the driver.

  “One bag?”

  “We’re only going to be gone for two days.”

  “Most women pack enough to last a month for a three-night stay.” He looked over the rim of his sunglasses.

  I shrugged. “I’m not most women.”

  “I’m beginning to see that. Nice dress, by the way.” He cracked a smile. “And that’s not intended to be anything more than a compliment.”

  I wore a cobalt blue dress with a halter neckline and had thrown on a white cardigan to cover up my arms and exposed shoulders. I almost laughed thinking about the lacy baby blue thong underneath—far from basic white cotton.

  “Thanks.” I think.

  We boarded the private plane and my mouth fell open at the lush cabin, the interior done in camel and creams. Garrett led me to two seats facing each other with a table in between before he removed his sunglasses.

  “Have a seat. I’ll put our bags in the compartment.”

  In the back of the cabin, a flat-screen television was mounted to the wall and a leather sofa sat opposite it. An array of bottles of liquor lined a shelf behind the bar, and a desk fit for a corporate office sat across from it.

  I should have known he’d fly better than first class.

  As I took a seat in the oversized chair, a flight attendant spoke to Garrett with an inviting gaze and a pouty mouth. Desire oozed from her light blue eyes as she silently begged for a morsel of attention, but he didn’t give it, and I couldn’t stop my lips from curling into a smile as I turned my attention to the small window.

  “Comfortable?” He sat across from me.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Do you own this thing?”

  “No, it’s chartered. Mine is a Cessna, a smaller scale plane I have for my personal use.”

  “I didn’t know you were a licensed pilot.”

  “Every chance I get, I’m in the air. There’s nothing like the freedom of an endless sky, flying into the depths of a cloud, and the vivid colors of the sunset. It’s magical, and it’s me controlling the magic with my own two hands.”

  Who is this man and what did he do with the ass I first met?

  “I was a little surprised you took off two days with all that’s going on. Everything okay?”

  “My Gammy celebrated her eightieth birthday and my family had a party for her.”

  So the Tin Man wasn’t so unfeeling after all. He had a grandmother who meant more to him than making sure La Amory Sands was a go. I didn’t know why a little piece of me cared about that fact, but it certainly did.

  The captain’s deep masculine voice filtered through the speakers. “Mr. Mitchell, Ms. Sheridan, welcome aboard. We’ll be departing in five minutes and expect to arrive in St. Thomas at five twenty-five this afternoon.”

  Locking the seatbelt in place, I tightened the slack and swallowed hard.

  Please let this be a smooth flight.

  Ready to ascend, I pulled a pair of ear-buds from my purse.

  “You won’t have time for those. Once we get in the air, we’ll go over the itinerary along with some other work.” Garrett pulled his laptop from its brown leather case.

  “I’m glad. I’ve been wondering about the schedule so I can find some time to sink my toes in the sand.”

  His whipped his head up, jaw flexing. “This is a business trip, Brooke, not a vacation.”

  I had the feeling this was going to be the longest flight in history, not to mention more like a trip to hell instead of a tropical paradise.

  The engine revved and the plane lurched a bit before moving along the runway. I swallowed my fear, determined to keep a straight face. Reaching into my satchel, I withdrew a yellow notepad and pen.

  “After I complete my required time in the Garrett Mitchell boot camp, you should consider Greta for your assistant. I think she’d be fantastic.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “Greta hasn’t ever been an assistant.”

  “Neither have I, but you like me so much you don’t want to let me leave,” I teased.

  “I never said I liked you,” he said in a playful voice, arching his eyebrow. Amusement danced in his expression, and dear God, that husky voice.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  I forgot all about the plane taking off.

  I forgot all about my fear of flying.

  There was nothing but my stomach tumbling and the tingles spreading to all the right places. I jerked my head down, picking up my pen—anything to break the spell he put me under.

  “Greta can do the job. I know she can. When we get back, please sign the transfer…or better yet, make the call to HR now. Tell them you’ll sign electronically.”

  He opened his mouth then closed it, staring hard into my eyes. I squeezed the pen firmly between my thumb and index finger.

  “George said you can do the job, and I need you to do it. Case closed.”

  “Unless I walk out,” I challenged.

  “You won’t do that. Where else will you work without a good reference, Ms. Sheridan?” he countered, all playfulness gone.

  “Remember when you said you’d try not to be an ass? Well, try harder.”

  He took a long look at me before throwing his head back and laughing. “Did you just call your boss an ass?”

  “Just agreeing with you, Mr. Mitchell. I don’t do blackmailing very well, and I trust Jennings would side with me on this as well.”

  “I’m sure he would. I’m sure George would as well,” he clipped out. “Just take notes.”

  “I get you need an assistant, but why do you want me to stay put when we can’t get along? Why can’t you just put Greta in the position, let me go back to George, and forget this ever happened?” I shot at him.

  “I don’t know why I listened to George—you’ve been more trouble than good. You said you didn’t know how to fail, but since you want to quit, you’ve proved you do know how to fail. Now take notes, Ms. Sheridan.”

  The attendants served us wine and a cheese tray while we went over the inspection report. After a couple of hours, I had a list of things to address on the tour of the premises.

  The captain came over the speaker to say, “Mr. Mitchell, i
t looks as though we’ll be flying through the outskirts of a small storm that’s developed. Everyone should take this time to buckle back in until further notice.”

  My beat wildly in my chest and I swallowed back the nausea. Through the small window, miles and miles of water promised nowhere to make an emergency landing, nowhere to go but the deep blue sea.

  “There’s no reason to worry. We’ll be fine.” He leaned forward, placing his hand on top of mine. There was a softness in his voice and concern in his eyes.

  The first jolt made me drop the silver pen, and I watched it roll on the floor as I grasped the armrests. Holding on, my knuckles blanched as my body lurched forward with the second and third jumps of the aircraft. Panic rose in my chest as I started breathing hard and fast.

  Somewhere in all the vigorous bouncing, Garrett slid into the seat beside me, quickly fastening the seatbelt. I closed my eyes, trying to suppress the unpleasant nausea as he slid his strong arm around my shoulders. As he pulled me against him, I kept my hands on the armrests, holding on for dear life until my fingers went numb.

  “We’ll be okay. It’s just wind in the clouds causing the annoying turbulence.”

  I shook my head, biting my lip to keep from letting out a shriek as my body lunged forward with another drop. My skin paled as I envisioned the plane coming apart midair.

  “Brooke, you’re hyperventilating. Slow your breathing down. Open your eyes and look at me. The pilot is trained to handle the wind. He’s the best of the best, and he’s already above the clouds to help smooth things out. Trust me, I promise we’re going to be okay,” he coaxed, holding me tighter. “Take a deep breath, in through your nose, and slowly exhale like you’re blowing out a candle.”

  I sucked in a big breath then let it out slowly as he’d instructed.

  “That’s good. Again,” he coached. “It’s easing up.”

  Finally, the bouncing around stopped and we were coasting along smooth and easy.

  “Looks like we’re through it.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, unable to open my eyes.

  “Don’t apologize. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

  His deep gentle voice sent deep calm through me. Peeking through my lashes, I found his eyes trained on me with a softness that took me by surprise.

 

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