Pretty Broken Girl

by Jeana E. Mann

  “We were in the middle of something,” Dahlia said. She stood and straightened her skirt with a tug on the side seams.

  “It’s fine,” Sam said. “We’re done here.” Her brow furrowed, and I felt the smallest kernel of satisfaction in her pique at being dismissed. “What is it, Ms. Atwell?”

  I waited until she’d shut the door behind her before I spoke. “I met Muriel downstairs. She said you canned her. What’s going on?”

  He clasped his hands on the desk in front of him. His eyes met mine without a hint of expression in them. The warmth from the weekend had chilled. I had done that to him. I had taken away the heat and laughter from his life. Had he managed to exorcise me at long last? Sadness mitigated some of my anger over the whole Muriel situation.

  “We had to let a few people go today. It shouldn’t come as any surprise. I was up front about the merger from the beginning.” The tight line of his jaw suggested he expected a fight. I curled my fingers at the memory of the scratch of his stubble over my belly when he’d kissed me there.

  “I understand the logistics of the situation. I saw Muriel in the lobby. She’s always been a valuable asset. I hope you were fair about it.” Although he didn’t extend an invitation to sit, I took the chair in front of his desk anyway. Sexual tension crackled through the air between us like static electricity.

  “You’re worried about her?” The stubborn set of his shoulders eased.

  “She’s a good person. Of course I’m worried.” Our gazes collided and held. A dull ache of need throbbed between my legs at the sight of his moss-colored eyes.

  “More than fair, Kota. Everyone got a severance package in line with their years of service, as well as access to job placement resources. I can assure you no one was left high and dry.” I opened my mouth to speak again, but he stopped me with a raised hand. “And your friend Muriel was given the opportunity to interview at one of my satellite offices, if she’s interested.”

  I exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” When he didn’t say anything more, continuing to stare at me, I stood to leave.

  “Is that it?” he asked, disbelieving.

  “I believe so,” I said. We stared at each other, a thousand wordless conversations passing between us. I searched his eyes, desperate for a hint of his thoughts. His face was cold, expressionless, and sober. I decided to throw myself over the cliff. What the hell. He already hated me. Our relationship was fucked up beyond description. I had nothing left to lose. “Unless you want to talk about Friday night?”

  One of his broad shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug. “We were drunk. We fucked. Nothing else to say, is there?”

  “No. I guess not.” I gave him a polite smile as the space between us widened into a yawning chasm.

  My hand gripped the door handle before he spoke again. “I want to meet with you about MacGruder tomorrow at ten. And bring me everything you can find on his property in Cincinnati.”

  I nodded but didn’t turn around. “Is that it?”

  “No. I gave Valerie a list of errands. See that you get them done before the end of the day. That’s all. You can go now.”

  ***

  Armed with Sam’s credit card, I stared at the list in my hand, disbelieving. There were at least twenty-five items. It wasn’t the list that irked me as much as the detail he’d put into each item. One red silk necktie with blue-and-gold stripes. Two bottles of absinthe from France. A leather-bound unabridged copy of The Catcher in the Rye. I bit my lower lip, contemplating the items. This wasn’t a dismissal. The bastard had picked up our game without missing a beat. I scanned over the items one more time, a thrill of adrenalin racing through me at the challenge. A glimmer of hope buoyed my deflated spirits.

  On the sidewalk outside the office building, I hailed a cab and dialed the number of a friend who owned an exclusive bookstore on the north side. It took six hours, but I managed to obtain every item on the list, including the absinthe, courtesy of Jack. The challenge kept my mind occupied, away from thoughts of Crockett and Mr. Seaforth and Sam. Before returning to work, I made a quick stop at a high-end lingerie store to purchase a new pink satin garter belt. The thought of Sam’s expression when he saw the lingerie on his credit card statement brought a smirk to my lips.

  I enlisted the help of a security guard to carry the items back to Sam’s office. I dumped them on his desk at five forty-five and dusted my hands together in front of him. “Anything else?” I asked.

  He cast a cursory glance at the myriad shopping bags and boxes but didn’t look at me. “Did you get the information on Cincinnati?”

  “I’m working on it,” I said.

  “Okay,” was all he said before turning his attention back to his laptop screen.

  “That’s it? Not a thank you or good job or anything?” I asked, disappointed. “I worked my ass off and you have to admit, it wasn’t an easy list.”

  He sighed and closed his laptop before turning to face me. “What do you want me to say, Dakota?”

  All my pent-up emotions exploded at once. “I don’t know. Something. Anything.” I waved my hands in the air. “How can you just sit there and act like nothing happened between us Friday night? Are you that kind of guy now?”

  He lifted his eyebrows and sat back in his chair, considering me. “What do you mean, that kind of guy?”

  “The kind of guy who makes love to his ex-wife then leaves without saying goodbye or any kind of acknowledgment? Really, Sam?”

  He leaned further back in his chair, widening the distance between us. “Honestly, I didn’t know what to say.”

  I wanted to stop talking before I embarrassed myself further, but the words kept pouring out, beyond my control. “It wasn’t just sex, Sam. We made love.” I slapped my hand onto his desk, causing his pen to roll over the edge and onto the floor. “You made love to me.” One corner of his mouth twitched, but I wasn’t sure if from amusement or irritation. Either way, I was just getting started. “And these stupid lists.” I picked up the piece of paper and flagged it in the air. “Oh, my God. I’m sick of your lists.” With a dramatic flourish, I tore the paper in half then proceeded to shred it into tiny bits. They rained to the floor like confetti.

  A knock sounded on the door. Valerie peeked her head into the office. “Is everything okay in here?”

  Sam cleared his throat, tearing his eyes from mine. “It’s fine, Mrs. Wayne. We’re fine.” Laughter shook his voice. “Ms. Atwell was just having a temper tantrum. I think she’s done now.”

  With a groan of exasperation and embarrassment, I gathered my dignity and stomped past Valerie. I paused at my desk long enough to collect my purse and briefcase before leaving.

  CHAPTER 29

  Samuel - Now

  THE NEXT MORNING, the sight of Dakota at her desk made my pulse pound like a schoolboy. It was only a few minutes after seven. The other employees wouldn’t arrive until nine, yet here she was, plugging away at her computer. Her tenacity and willpower never ceased to surprise me. Whenever life threw an obstacle in her way, she climbed it and squared up for the next challenge.

  “Good morning, Ms. Atwell,” I said, and smiled at her answering grunt. She’d never been a morning person. “Are you ready for our meeting?”

  “I have until eleven,” she said in a strange voice.

  I still wasn’t sure what to make of her. Being near her elicited thoughts and feelings I didn’t want to face, but after our lovemaking, I could no longer ignore them. Part of me wanted to strangle her for throwing away our marriage, while the other part wanted to mend her broken pieces and make her love me again. It was a foolish notion, but one I couldn’t push aside. She was as much a part of me as the blood in my veins.

  Anger flooded through me at my inability to control my desire. “Make it ten,” I snapped.

  “Sam,” she whispered. Every time she said my name, it tore me apart. It was the reason I wanted her to call me Mr. Seaforth, which I normally detested. “Can you just give it
a rest? I’ve had a hard couple of days.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re still upset about yesterday?” I put a hand on her chair and swiveled it around so she was facing me. She stared to the side, avoiding eye contact, but I could see her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, like she’d been crying. Her hand went to her neck, and I knew instinctively she was looking for the gold chain, the one in my front pants pocket. My resolve to be an asshole wavered.

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m fine,” she said. Her chin jutted stubbornly. “I was up all night working on this. I’m just tired.”

  “Fine,” I said.

  “Fine,” she repeated.

  I turned and strode to my office without a backward glance and slammed the door for good measure. Her face continued to haunt me throughout my meetings and conference calls. I was angry, but more with myself than her. Why did I still let her get under my skin? After all this time, I should have learned my lesson. Maybe my father was right. Maybe I was just stupid where she was concerned. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became until I’d worked myself into a tempest by the time of our meeting.

  I needed to put her in her place. She’d fucked me over, and hell would freeze over before I let it happen again. I was Samuel Seaforth. I’d crushed companies and brought the owners to their knees in front of me. I could do the same with Dakota. Fuck her contract. She needed to go before I let her ruin me. I’d make her so miserable, she’d beg to quit. One way or the other, I would win.

  At precisely ten o’clock, Valerie announced Dakota. She knocked on the door before entering. She strode into the room wearing a dark green blazer, matching skirt, and a white blouse, the picture of confidence and capability. My heart kicked against my ribs. I squashed the buzz of attraction like a pesky mosquito. There would be none of that today. This was a duel to the death.

  “Are you ready?” she asked, her voice controlled.

  “Yes.” I stood and moved to the conference table.

  She took a seat across from me. All traces of strife had been erased from her face. I watched her lay out a dozen reports across the surface of the table, mesmerized by her quiet efficiency. “I think you’ll be pleased with what I’ve found,” she said.

  “I’d better be,” I replied, baiting her.

  Her gaze lifted to meet mine. The absence of emotion in her eyes chilled me to the core. Disappointment bowled over me. She was gone. My sweet, stubborn Dakota had evacuated the premises and left behind a capable automaton. “I’ve got all the information you requested on the Cincinnati property as well as the surrounding areas,” she said in a flat tone.

  My attention drifted as she cited statistics and demographics. I searched her face, filled with unexpected panic. Had I gone too far? Had I finally pushed her to the breaking point? Until this point, I hadn’t realized how much I enjoyed the friction of our relationship. Now I suddenly, desperately wanted it back.

  “Stop.” I placed my hand over hers, halting her mid-sentence.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, lifting her gaze to mine.

  “Come here.” I curled my fingers around her hand.

  “No.” The point of her chin quivered. Stubbornness flashed in her eyes. Relief loosened the knot in my stomach.

  “Dakota. Get the fuck over here.” I tightened my grip on her hand, drawing her around the end of the table to stand in front of me.

  She stared up at my face, jaw clenched and lips pressed into a tight white line. “What?” Her blue-green eyes met mine. I saw determination and an unbreakable spirit staring back at me. My knees dissolved with relief. Fuck me, I loved that look. She wasn’t broken. I hadn’t broken her. My father hadn’t broken her. She was too strong and too obstinate to crumble.

  “Nothing,” I said and drew her into my embrace.

  She rested her cheek against my shoulder, her body unyielding, her arms rigid at her sides. I placed a hand on the back of her head and held her there until the tension drained from her shoulders. The scent of her shampoo wafted up to me. I bent and buried my nose in her hair, savoring the fragrance of citrus and honey. We stood that way for a long time.

  “This is screwed up,” she said, her voice muffled in my shirt. She slipped her arms inside my jacket and around my waist.

  “Pretty much,” I replied and rested my chin on the top of her head, enjoying the way she fit there like she belonged. The way her body molded to mine left me undone. This was so much more than I’d bargained for and not at all what I’d had in mind as an outcome.

  “You’re making me insane.” Her voice reverberated into my chest.

  “I really want to hate you.” I brushed my lips over her hair. “It would be so much simpler that way.”

  She sighed. “I know. I get it.”

  When she turned her face up to mine, chin resting on my sternum, my resolve dissipated. The solid feel of her in my arms washed away the hatred and left me wanting for more. Before I could give voice to my feelings, she pushed me back and straightened her clothing. Her small smile carried a tinge of sadness.

  “Let’s get back to work,” she said in a voice edged with steel.

  She returned to her seat and tapped one of the graphs. I watched her walk away, taking the heat of her body with her, leaving me empty and alone on the opposite side of the table. It always amazed me, the way she could dismiss me without so much as a backward glance. The rejection stung. Once again, I remembered all the reasons I wanted her out of my life.

  “I’ve seen enough,” I said. She frowned but began to gather the documents. “Leave them. We’re done.”

  “Um, okay.” She stood and paced to the door like her skirt was on fire.

  Once the door closed behind her, I slid into the chair behind my desk and straightened my tie, more determined than ever to put an end to this madness. As soon as the MacGruder deal was settled, I’d offer her a nice severance package and send her on her way. Ansel would just have to understand.

  CHAPTER 30

  Dakota - Now

  BY WEDNESDAY, I was a quivering mass of indecision. Part of me looked forward to the working with Sam. Sitting across the conference table from him gave me a thrill to the tips of my toes. Another smaller part of me wanted to curl up in a corner and cry. We’d had something good and wholesome and wonderful between us once. Little glimmers of it shone through the cracks of our relationship now and then, teasing and taunting me.

  I knew for certain I couldn’t continue this charade for long. No matter how much I tried to deny it, I still loved him. I’d always loved him and always would. It was just the way I was made, to only love one person, and that person was Sam. I didn’t understand the man he’d become, but it didn’t matter, not really. We were both different people now, but he would always be the one for me.

  Being around him was sheer torture. Every time he passed by my desk, the tiny hairs on my arms and neck lifted. The sound of his deep voice sent jolts of desire along my synapses. The few times we happened to brush against each other in passing caused my insides to clench in the most delicious way. I had no idea if he felt the attraction the way I did. If the glower on his face was any indication, the answer was no.

  We had a meeting with MacGruder after lunch. Because Sam had a prior meeting elsewhere, I arrived at Seaforth Towers alone and met him at MacGruder’s office. We didn’t speak directly to each other for the duration of the meeting. Afterward, we rode the elevator to the lobby in uncomfortable silence, standing on opposite sides of the car to avoid touching each other.

  Fearing another altercation with Sam’s father, I kept glancing over my shoulder, certain he’d snatch me into a corner. Sweat slickened my palms as we strode toward the revolving door and safety. My stomach churned, overwrought with anxiety. Two paces from the door, someone called my name. Sam had his phone to his ear, deep into a terse conversation with his assistant about a flight to Madrid, and proceeded out the door. I tried to avoid the voice, but a hand grabbed my elbow. I gasped and whirled around to find Jare
d smiling at me.

  “Hey, girl,” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “Easy now.” He raised his palms to face outward. “I come in peace.”

  “Jared.” I pressed a hand to my chest. “You scared me.”

  “I can see that.” He smiled again, his easy demeanor diminishing my stress.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t talk.” I gestured helplessly toward Sam, standing next to his car, frowning through the glass door at me.

  “It’s okay. Not a problem.” He smiled again and extended his right arm, an envelope in his hand. “This is for you.”

  “What?” I took the envelope and turned it over to find it blank and smooth on all sides.

  He winked at me while backing away. “Just a little incentive from the boss man,” he said. He pointed at me with thumb and forefinger. “Catch you later, babe.”

  Before I could say more, he disappeared into a flood of people exiting the bank of elevators. I shrugged and shoved the envelope into my purse, assuming it to be an invitation of some kind to one of his hedonistic parties.

  Once inside the car, Sam ignored me, choosing instead to scroll through messages on his phone and conduct more business calls. I hugged the door, my attention focused on the passing scenery outside. After a few blocks, I remembered the envelope in my purse and retrieved it. Inside, I found a handwritten check for ten thousand dollars signed by Maxwell Seaforth, along with a small note that said, Installment 1 of 5. My stomach churned and for a brief moment, I thought I might be sick.

  A quick glance at Sam showed him to be entranced in his conversation, oblivious to my impending meltdown. I shoved the note and check back into the envelope. Ten thousand dollars was a lot of money. I had to admit, for the briefest of seconds, I considered cashing it. Sam hated me. I was going to lose my job. Crockett was in jail. My mother was ill and needed my support. The money could go a long way in sustaining my family.