“Well, I’m very sorry to hear about that,” she commented as she picked up her fork and pushed her food around her plate.
“And?”
She glanced up. “But I’m glad that means you got a promotion. Congratulations, Charles. I’m sure you’ll do a great job.”
He smiled. “Thank you, sweetie. I had my secretary send Brad and his wife a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of Dom Perignon with my best regards today. I hope he received it all right.”
She watched him as he tucked into his meal, but he didn’t notice. Maybe he did care after all. Who was she to judge him for being happy for his windfall? It wasn’t his fault that Brad’s health had failed.
“That was nice of you.”
He shrugged and didn’t bring it up again. After dinner, he somehow talked her into bed, unaware that her emotional resistance was thin or she would’ve probably said no. Charles had never been a great lover. He’d never been horrible, just never great. Just sort of eh. She could usually pull out an orgasm. Maybe. But he’d never had a problem, so he was pretty confident in his lovemaking skills.
He rolled off of her with a satisfied sigh.
She stared at the ceiling, feeling vaguely unfulfilled. Visions of strong forearms and colorful tattoos danced in her head. She sighed and rolled over.
“You know”—Charles touched her in the dark—“eventually your father will have to retire as well. Then I’ll be appointed the President of the company.”
“Yes. We’ve always known that’s where things were headed. It’s what you’re meant for.” Even she heard the detachment in her voice.
“I want you there with me, Kyle.” His hand was still on her arm.
She tensed as a sense of unease began to eat at her. “Of course I’ll be there. What are you talking about?”
He rolled away from her and started to dress. “I think you know what I mean.”
She sat up, pulling the sheet to cover her breasts. “No, Charles. Tell me what you mean. Besides being your wife, what more do you want from me? Do you want me to work at the firm with you?”
He shoved his shirt into his pants as she flipped on the lamp. He squinted his eyes against the light and his mouth was drawn into a tight line. “That would be nice for now. This ridiculous excuse for a job you’ve got going now is embarrassing to the entire family. Surely you know that, Kyle.”
Her heart began to pound as frustration morphed to red-hot anger, racing through her veins like lava. “Really?”
His eyes flitted to the engagement ring on the bedside table then back to her face. He took a breath as he bent over and slid on his shoes. “Yes. Look, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be harsh. We’ve all allowed you your time to go find yourself, but it’s been long enough. It’s time to come back to the firm where you belong. Then, after the wedding, you can focus on other things.”
Her hands started to tremble and furious tears pricked her eyes. “Other things?”
“Yes.” He seemed relieved that she was finally seeing reason. “Our home. Our marriage.” He sat on the bed and took her hand. “Hopefully, our children.”
Something inside of her snapped. She knew she wasn’t dead, but it was as if her life was flashing before her eyes—the life she had yet to live. The life she was running from. The life she was grieving. She had to act now or be a prisoner to her fate.
She pulled her hand from his grasp with great care. Using all of her will power, she stood, unashamed of her nakedness, and channeled the strongest person she knew.
With a trembling finger, she pointed to the door. “Get the fuck out.”
With a heavy heart, Kyle called Michael to tell him she wouldn’t be able to make it in to the studio the next evening.
“Is everything all right, Miz O’Neill?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.
She flinched when Jed barked out something in the background. “Yes, Michael. Everything is fine. I’m just not feeling well tonight and I can do what needs to be done here at home with what I’ve got. It’s really not important for me to be there every night anyway. I only come because you insist,” she reminded him.
He sighed. “Yes, I know. I’ve gotten spoiled having you so close by. It makes it pretty darn convenient for me. I’m sorry if I’ve taken you for granted.”
The contrition in his voice almost made her relent. But she didn’t feel up to facing people tonight. Especially surly, sexy people. “It’s all right. I’m sure I’ll be feeling better soon. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure. I hope you get to feeling better, Miz O’Neill. I’ll say my prayers for you.”
She mumbled her thanks before hanging up. He’d pray for her? Somehow, the thought of big, bad Michael ‘The Angel’ Smith, kneeling in heartfelt prayer didn’t gel with her image of the man.
She shrugged and tossed the phone down, hugging her robe tighter around her. She felt slightly sluggish having not changed from her pajamas yet, but damn it, she was moping! After Charles left last night, she’d been so wired on adrenalin from her little one-woman stand that she’d scarcely been able to sleep. The expression on his face had been priceless. Utter and complete shock. Disgust. Betrayal.
He’d stormed out without another word, leaving her shaking like a leaf, but feeling like her life had just become her own again.
But now, in the light of a new day, she realized that all she’d done was push him away for expecting of her what she’d allowed everyone to expect of her all her life. It wasn’t his fault. Not really. She would have to do some serious soul-searching and make some hard decisions soon. But did Charles consider their engagement off already because of her blow-up? In that case, at least that decision would be out of her hands. But, in any case, did she still want to marry him?
Deep in her heart, she knew the answer to that. But did she have the guts to follow through on what that answer meant? Could she change her heart? Would he be willing to forgive her even if she could?
It took her two more days, but Kyle finally got her resolve up to go back to the studio. She took a deep, fortifying breath, pushed her glasses up on her nose, and opened the door. The little bell above the door was a comfort, she realized. Almost like a little homecoming. It was startling to realize how much time she’d actually spent in Jed’s studio. She would’ve smiled, but raised voices coming from the back brought her up short. She took in the empty studio. All the workstations were vacant. Quietly, she walked to the back and set her briefcase on the small desk that was her workspace.
Jed’s office door was cracked open enough for her to see Kierstan face-to-face with Jed, their bodies writhing like snakes coiled to strike, their faces contorted with anger.
Jed pointed sharply into Kierstan’s face, his eyes narrowed. “Listen. I don’t know what kind of shit you’re trying to pull now, but if you think for one second you’re going to fucking steal one more piece of this studio out from under me, you’ve got another thing coming! Forty percent is plenty, more than enough if you ask me. You should’ve just sold it back to me when . . .” He couldn’t seem to say more.
Kierstan looked down at his finger, then back up into his face as she cocked her hip. “I didn’t steal anything, baby. We had a deal, fair and square. Just because you don’t like it anymore, well that’s just too bad. You’re not getting rid of me. Ever.” She eyed him up and down. “What? Can’t handle looking but not touching anymore? I’m sure we can work something out. We were good together once.”
He stepped back like she’d really turned into a snake. “Ah, fuck me . . .”
“Exactly.”
He nearly roared, “Kierstan!”
That jolted her and her eyes popped open, but she didn’t say a word.
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” He sat and dropped his head in resignation. “Enough already. I can’t take it anymore
.”
Kyle turned away, feeling like a voyeur. Their drama wasn’t her business. She had enough of her own. But Jed’s heartfelt plea tugged at something deep, deep within her and for some stupid reason she wanted to go hug him.
She tried to make plenty of noise setting up her laptop computer and opening all of her files so they would notice her presence. It seemed to work because Kierstan glanced her way then mumbled something under her breath before ducking out of Jed’s office.
Jed got up and shut his office door without saying a word.
Noble showed up about ten minutes later, oblivious to what had happened, but Kyle could tell he felt the tension in the air because he made a beeline for Jed’s office and let himself in without so much as a knock, and then shut the door again. Good, she thought. Jed needed some male bonding after that little neutron-bomb explosion she’d witnessed.
Customers began to filter in after that, a few at a time. She enjoyed the people-watching almost as much as she enjoyed her number-crunching.
Jed and Noble must’ve been watching the time, because they finally came out just before their appointments showed up. Noble, as per his usual, got a hot blonde requesting a tramp stamp just above her ass. She flirted and wiggled her assets while Noble remained oblivious or uninterested; it was hard to tell. Kyle wondered if he had a girlfriend.
Jed’s client was a pretty lady, too. Long, auburn hair, wide, awe-struck eyes, generous cleavage. She was getting some sort of Asian lettering design around her ankle. Kyle couldn’t help but notice how her flirting didn’t go unappreciated by her tattoo artist. Jed smiled and stopped in between some of his ink swipes to chat her up. Something inside of Kyle twisted with envy at the sight.
Michael finally showed up about an hour later. “Sorry I’m late, boss,” he called out as he slung off his leather jacket.
Jed looked up. “Yeah, no problem. How was your meeting?”
Michael smiled. “Very productive.”
“Good, I’m glad, man.”
Michael walked past him to where Kyle sat in the back. “Hey, Miz O’Neill! I’m so glad you’re feeling better!” He rewarded her return with a bright, angelic smile.
She stood to meet his bear hug and met Jed’s eyes over his shoulder. He’d glanced up from tattooing his customer as if he’d just realized she’d been absent for the past couple of days. How nice. Guess that’s how much he noticed her.
Michael released her. “So, how are things? My numbers still in tip-top shape? Anything you need?”
She looked down. “Well, actually, I’m still trying to find last month’s expenses? Specifically for your needles, plastic covers, and ink. You go through that stuff like nobody’s business. Do you have those?”
“Yes, ma’am, I sure do.” He made quick work of the file cabinet and handed her the appropriate file. “Here you go. Anything else?”
“I have some tax forms for you to sign later. But other than that, I think we’re good for now. Thanks.”
“Well, then, I guess I’ll get to work.” He turned back around as he shuffled off. “Don’t you go leaving before saying good-bye. I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Sure, Michael.”
Well, something about number-crunching, the smooth sounds of Bruno Mars, and the half-eaten club sandwich and two caramel macchiatos sitting heavy in her belly had Kyle working until well past closing time at Jed’s. Well, okay, she hadn’t spent all that time working. Most of that time she’d spent trying to avoid the nuclear explosion threatening between Jed and Kierstan or just Jed in general. He was in some kind of mood.
Luckily Kierstan had already left. Noble was gone for the night as well. Jed and Michael had just come back in from a break outside with strange looks on their faces. Jed set about sterilizing the last of his equipment while Michael grabbed a broom to sweep up. Kyle realized that she’d better get home. She’d been here long enough. She tucked her papers away and shut down her computer.
After stifling a yawn, she called out to Michael. “Hey, I think I’ll go on home now, okay? Walk me out?”
Michael shot a pointed look to Jed.
Jed scowled. He dropped his equipment with a metal clang. “I’ll walk you out.”
She pressed her glasses up her nose and furrowed her brow. “Uh, that’s okay. Michael said he’d do it.”
Jed ripped off his gloves and stalked over. He picked up her laptop case. “No. I’ll walk you out.” He looked over as Michael started sweeping with a flourish. “Plus, Michael is busy.”
Now she was confused. “Well, all right. Thanks.”
He walked her to the door and held it open for her. She pressed by him, careful not to touch him. They walked side-by-side down to her car. She pressed the button for the automatic unlock and he helped her load her things into the backseat.
“Well, thank you,” she said, flicking a glance to the darkened daycare next door and feeling very uncomfortable now. “I’ll see you later.” She turned to get in the car.
“Wait.”
She turned, sure she’d forgotten something.
“I was wondering, uh . . .” he looked confused and his freshly shaven head shone in the streetlight like he was starting to sweat.
“Wondering?”
He shoved his hands in his front pockets. “Why do you drive a Prius, Muffet?”
She turned from him and sat. She started to pull the door shut, but he grabbed it and held it open. She peered up at him. His face, tucked in shadow, was full of mystery and sex appeal that she’d never understand.
“Well?” he prompted.
She sighed. “Why do you drive a gas-guzzler that is slowly killing the environment just for the sake of your manhood?”
He grinned and it shot right through her. “Touché. So, my accountant has quit on me.”
Her stomach flip-flopped. “Yes. Michael told me.”
“And it seems the IRS sees fit to audit me this year for the very first time.”
She waited, silent.
He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. The gesture made him look nervous, which almost made her feel sorry for him. Almost. “And nobody else seems to be available or willing to take me on.”
“Imagine that.”
He laughed. A full-out laugh. It did dangerous things to her insides and she nearly melted into a puddle there on her seat. She pulled herself upright.
“You are something else, Muffet.”
“Not really.”
He looked at her quizzically. “So”—he crouched down so his face was just below hers and his forearms rested on his knees—“I was hoping you might be looking for another job? Michael gave you a glowing recommendation and I really need the help. I suck at doing my own books.”
“What? You suck at something?” She spoke the words before she knew it.
He studied her with his magnetic eyes. “You don’t know the half of it.”
She was treading dangerous water here. She should say no. It was not easy being in the same vicinity with him as often as she was now. Working for him directly would make it that much worse.
“I don’t know, Jed.”
“Hey.” Something about his tone made her look at him. “Is this about the other night?”
She knew he meant their almost kiss. “No! No. Of course not.” But she spoke too quickly and they both knew it.
He nodded. “I understand if you’re uncomfortable. But I promise nothing like that will ever happen again. I know you’re an engaged woman.” He took a deep breath like this was painful. “And I will try to be nice and I’ll pay you ten percent more than whatever Michael pays you. I’ll even throw in Papa Turoni’s whenever you want it.”
She glanced up to see if he was serious. He sure looked it.
“Please,” he said. �
��I really need your help. At least until I find someone else?”
She needed the work. Her bank account was hurting. If her business failed, her pride would be hurting worse.
“Fine.”
He smiled again and she melted a little more. “So listen, besides this audit bullshit, my stuff is pretty jacked up for the month already. I’ve done what I can, but you need to take a look as soon as possible.”
“I can do it tomorrow. I’ll be by at my normal time.”
He shook his head. “I won’t be here tomorrow. Why don’t you come on out to my place tomorrow afternoon instead?”
His place? Oh, Joseph and his coat of many colors! Alarm bells started sounding in her mind at a furious rate.
“Oh . . . well, if it’s your day off, we can . . . uh, do it another time.” She tried to think on her feet, but she was suddenly dizzy.
“It’s all right,” he reasoned. “I don’t think it’ll take too long to get you started. And it’ll make me feel better to get my books situated. I’m a little picky about my business.” He studied her face in the dark interior of the car. “You’re not afraid to be alone with me, are you? At my house?”
Her heart thundered. “No!”
“Uh huh. Prove it. Show up.” He rattled off the address. “You’ve got my number if you get lost. Be there about three.”
She nodded. What could she do? Be called out as a chicken? Well, that was an idea.
“Oh, and Muffet?”
She looked at him.
He gave her a shark’s grin. “Don’t worry. I don’t bite.”
Chapter 9
Kyle bundled herself in a towel and, still dripping from her shower, hurried to answer the pounding on her door.
“Kyle Elizabeth!” her mother squawked. “Open the door right this minute! I know you’re home. Your car is in the driveway.” Bang! Bang! Bang! “Kyle! Are you all right in there? Do I need to call the police?”
Inked by an Angel Page 8