by R. C. Martin
“Dane—since when do you care what people think?”
Lifting my chin, I graze my knuckles along the underside of my jaw as I let his question sink in. He’s got a point. For the last ten years, I’ve been working my ass off to establish my name—a name with a reputation that’s respectable and not marred like my father’s. Yet, in all that time, it’s not so much about what other people think that has driven me to where I am today. It’s about what I think of myself and my determination to be a man of integrity—a man who can look at himself in the mirror without shame or disgust.
Except, today, when Meghan came into my office, it wasn’t my integrity I was worried about—it was Sigourney’s. I remember the first time I took her to the pub. I remember those green eyes and the disappointment and embarrassment I saw when she told me about her shortcomings. I may have never been where’s she’s at, but I know what it’s like to want something so badly that nothing short of the end goal will bring about satisfaction. The last thing she needs is people talking shit about who she is and what she’s capable of when they have no fucking clue.
“Dane?” Hale yanks me from my thoughts with a slap against my bicep. “Is this about your old man? You know, no matter what, you are nothing like him. Not even close.”
“I know. I just—she’s not that girl you take home only to fuck.”
“Okay, I’ve got to meet this woman,” he chuckles. “Next week, Maya and I are hitting this Halloween party Friday night. You should come. Bring your woman.”
I blow out a sigh, turning toward the bar, wishing I was more sure about all of this.
“She’s not my woman.”
“You want my advice?”
I twist my neck to look at my best friend, answering him with my silence.
“Make it so. I mean it. You’re scared. You, Dane Croft, the most fearless man I know, you’re fucking scared.”
“I’m not—”
“You are, man! But that’s a good thing. It means she’s worth it. Stop being a pussy and go after her. She’s into you, right?”
“Yeah,” I mumble, skipping over the reasons why I know.
“All right then—welcome to the big leagues, brother,” he says with a grin, clapping his hand against my shoulder. “It’s about damn time.”
I playfully shove him off of me, making him laugh. Thankfully, he changes the subject. Yet, for the rest of the night, I don’t stop thinking about what he said.
Later, when I’m in bed alone, Sigourney the only thing on my mind, it makes me wonder.
Maybe Hale’s right. Maybe she really is worth it.
More than that—maybe instead of trying to self destruct, I’ll let her decide if she thinks I’m worth it, too.
from: Sigourney Salenger
to: Ellery Reinhart
cc: Ellery F. Reinhart
date: Fri, Oct 18, 2019 at 8:47pm
subject: About Last Night…
Ellery Florence—are you ALIVE?!? We keep missing each other, and it’s making me crazy. I know you and Pryce have a lot going on right now, but send a carrier pigeon or something, let me know you’re still making time to eat and sleep and get laid. Yeah, I totally just went there—partly because I wish I was going there, but I’m afraid I’m not. Not anymore. God, I’m a mess…I need my big sister something fierce.
There was a small part of me that knew I shouldn’t get my hopes up about Dane. He’s my boss and, I don’t know—it’s never really been established what we’re doing. Or what we were doing. I’m not sure which it is at the moment. He always referred to it as “whatever it is that’s happening between us,” which isn’t definitive in the slightest. Now I’m not sure if his caution was because he cares about me or if he wasn’t sure. Like, if I didn’t work for him, if we didn’t have to see each other everyday, would we have had sex already? Would he have decided he’s not really into it? Would he be more honest about wanting out?
You probably have no idea where this is coming from. Sorry.
He left this morning for a trip to Texas. There’s this merger that’s going on, and he needed to fly out to this other company’s office so they could go over some of the paperwork. And since you know Dane is a pretty big deal, the plan was business today, entertainment all weekend, and tying up loose ends on Monday. The point is, I won’t see him until Tuesday morning. But when he left the office Thursday night, he hardly even said goodbye.
Earlier that morning, he kissed me. It was a great kiss. They all are. Especially when he uses his tongue (gawwwwwwwd he’s good with his tongue) and things felt good. Then I went to lunch. Ava had said something about me being “his girl.” She didn’t mean anything by it, because she doesn’t know anything about what’s going on between us, but he gave me this look. At the time, I thought it was a good look. But then, when he was leaving for the night, he barely even said goodbye. I stayed late so I could kiss him goodnight and wish him a safe trip. I wasn’t being annoying about it—I was working on stuff, waiting for him—but he didn’t care. He said he’d call. That’s it. Except, he hasn’t called.
I’m not sure if I have the right to be, but I’m disappointed and a little bit sad. I miss him. That’s how much I like him. He’s been gone for twenty-four hours and I can’t wait for him to get back. Am I stupid? I’m stupid, aren’t I? I knew this could happen, and I did it anyway…
All right—I’m done whining. For now. Sorry. Let’s get back to you.
I hope you’re okay and that work and Reinhart’s Kitchen hasn’t swallowed you whole.
(Is that what Pryce decided? I vote for just Reinhart’s—drop the kitchen…that’s kind of self-explanatory.)
With love,
Sticks
IT’S ALMOST TEN when I finally return to the hotel and strip out of my suit.
I missed her today. Not just my secretary, but Sigourney.
I’m not that guy—I’m not that guy who misses the girl, especially not when I’m away on business. Except, here I am, phone in hand, wondering what she’s doing right now, or if she’d answer if I called. I wasn’t fair last night, and I know it. I should have called before now, but I didn’t.
Fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing.
After pulling up her contact information, I don’t give it another thought before I press dial and bring the device to my ear. It rings four times before she answers, and the relief that floods my chest at the sound of her voice takes me by surprise.
“Hello?”
“Hi, babe.”
She sucks in a breath, hesitating a second before she asks, “I’m still babe?”
I walk to the side of the bed and sit on the edge, propping my elbows on my knees as I reply, “You still want to be?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Then you are.”
There’s a moment of silence that passes between us, and I suddenly wish she wasn’t so far away from me.
“What happened? Is this about what Ava said? I swear, I didn’t tell her anything.”
“No. It wasn’t that.”
“Then what?”
I run a hand down my face and then confess, “I don’t want people to look at you and see Meghan.”
“What? Dane—”
“The only people in the office who don’t know she’s fucking my father are those who choose not to know. I respect the ones who don’t give a damn about the personal lives of others, I really do—but they are few. Or at least, that’s what it seems like.”
“Dane, I’m not Meghan.”
“I know that. Don’t you think I know that? It doesn’t matter what I think of you—”
“That’s all that matters. To me, that’s all that matters. Listen…” She pauses, and I can hear rustling on the other end of the line. I imagine her repositioning herself, making herself more comfortable before she continues. “We’re careful, and we’ve already agreed that we’re not going to flaunt it—whatever this is. So if people
speculate, they speculate. There’s nothing we can do about that. It’s about us and what we know and what we think.
“I like you—a lot. I don’t want to stop seeing you because of what people may or may not think. I know circumstances aren’t exactly ideal, but I didn’t get this job because you thought I was pretty—and I’m not going to keep it because we like each other. I’m going to keep this job because I’m good at it, and I work hard at it. You know how important it is to me to have my position at the firm, and—”
“Babe,” I interrupt, fighting a grin. “I know.”
“Are you sure? Because if you don’t want me to be babe for some other reason, then—”
“Sigourney?”
“Yes?” she whispers.
“There’s a Halloween party. It’s next Friday. My friend, Hale, he invited me—he invited us. Do you want to go?”
“Are we supposed to dress up?”
I swear I can hear the smile in her voice, and I lean back, stretching out across the bedding as I free a grin at the ceiling. “Yeah. Need some suggestions?”
She giggles, and I close my eyes as I let the sound of her voice fill my ear.
This is how I stay until we say our goodbyes. When I look at the time, it’s almost midnight, and there’s only one thought that crosses my mind.
Fuck my father and his reputation. I’m not him, and Sigourney is more beautiful and more intriguing than any woman I’ve ever met. I’m not even close to being done with her yet.
I’M ALIVE, I’M alive! Are you okay? Do you need to talk? I’m so tired, but I can stay awake a little while longer for you. Sorry I’ve been so MIA.
False alarm!!!!
OMG. He called me. We talked for two hours. He’s amazing.
He invited me to a Halloween party. Costume suggestions?!?!
Maybe you should fly in tomorrow for a quick shopping trip… (Kidding. Kind of.)
Haha, if I wasn’t afraid of falling asleep on you while you tried on costumes, I’d make it happen. It’s been the longest week ever.
Go to bed. Call me Sunday???
I will. Promise.
Less than 3 you.
Less than 3 you, too. Night.
I DON’T KNOW whether to laugh or cry when I look at myself in the mirror. At the time that I purchased this costume, I thought it would be perfect. Sure, people might not get it the way I intended, but I figured it could be something that I shared with Dane when we were alone. Except, that’s beside the point now—now that I’m wearing it.
I feel kind of like a slut.
A slut who is about to go to a costume party with her boss.
Somewhere in my brain, I know that Dane is much more than my boss. While our relationship is still not defined, he spent hours on the phone with me while he was in Texas; and since he’s been back, it feels like we’re settling into the idea of an us. I’m ready—I’m ready for more. I want more than morning kisses and make-out sessions in his SUV. I want him, and this costume definitely expresses that—only, I feel like I could have been a little subtler.
I check myself out from head to toe and then up again, my belly full of nervous butterflies. The cut of the light pink, corset top and matching panties fit perfectly, the pink fur along the low, sweetheart neckline helping to conceal a little bit of my cleavage. It’s not outrageous on my best day, but today I feel as though I can use some help in the coverage area. While my arms and shoulders are bare, underneath my panties I’m wearing a pair of hot pink pantyhose and nothing else—leaving my long, slender legs completely on display. My pale pink, platform, stiletto heels were the one part of my costume that I didn’t have to purchase; and while they do remarkable things for my legs, it doesn’t make me feel any better—especially when I twist around and see my fluffy, round tail. Considering the event, I’m wearing a little more makeup than usual, and I took the time to re-curl my hair, too. When I look over at my bed and spot my bunny-ear headband, I whine, wishing I had thought of something else.
Turning to grab my cell phone from the top of my dresser, I snap a picture of my reflection and send it to Ellery.
I change my mind. I think I should stay home tonight. This is way too slutty.
As I wait for her reply, I furrow my brow in concern, staring at my reflection. I seriously don’t know why I thought this was a good idea. When my phone alerts me to a new message, I jump, shifting my attention to the screen.
Hahahaha! Holy HELL! You look AMAZING. I want to be you when I grow up!
I throw my head back in laughter in spite of myself, not at all surprised that she would say such a thing.
PS: I hate you for those legs, but I love you for being sexy enough to pull off that costume. Knock him dead, Sticks!
Deciding she’s absolutely useless and will never help me justify why I should hide out tonight instead of go to this party, I set my phone aside and return to my closet. I grab my tan, knee-length, trench coat and slip it over my bare shoulders. If I end up being too afraid to take it off, at least I’ll spend the evening in my favorite jacket. My mom bought it for me on my last birthday. It’s covered in a large print floral design—which I love. I wrap it around me tightly, securing the belt about my waist to ensure that it won’t fall open, and then walk to my bed. After grabbing my bunny ears and my phone, stowing both in my purse, I reach for my keys and take my leave.
Dane and I arranged for me to meet him at the office tonight. He told me he brought his costume with him, and that he’d work until I returned. From there, he said we’d head to the party together. It’s almost eight o’clock on a Friday night, and I’m sure no one will still be in the office, so I’m not worried anyone will spot us.
“Well, hello there, young lady,” greets Otto as I clutch my keys in my hand.
He’s coming out of his unit, a bowler cap on his head, and his jacket zipped up like he’s about to head out for the evening.
“Otto, it looks like you’re going somewhere. What are you up to tonight?”
He grins at me and then says, “Some of my buddies and I are going to check out a haunted house. I haven’t been to one in ages.”
I can’t help but laugh, the thought of a bunch of old men in a haunted house too comical. “Are you really?”
“Sure am, honey. Hopefully we all make it out alive. Our hearts aren’t what they used to be,” he says with a chuckle.
Speaking through a grin, I confess, “You’re one of the coolest people I know, you know that?”
“And you’re one of the prettiest,” he says with a wink. “Where are you off to?”
“Oh, just a party. Remember that guy I was telling you about? He’s taking me.”
“Ahh, the fella is still around, is he? Must be pretty decent.”
“I like him,” I admit, playfully lifting one shoulder in a shrug.
“Oh, goodness, me—I forgot my wallet inside,” he mutters, patting down his pockets. “Excuse me, dear, I’ve got to run back and grab it. Don’t let me keep you, you hear? And you have fun at that party of yours.”
“Okay, Otto. You have fun at your haunted house. Don’t get too scared.”
“I’ll do my best,” he says, tossing me another wink before turning back to his door.
I shake my head as I make my way down the stairs, smiling the entire time. He really is one spunky old man, and I love that about him. As far as neighbors go, I’d say I definitely lucked out.
With the sun having long since set, it’s pretty chilly, making me question my costume yet again. I wonder where, exactly, this party will be held, and if I’ll be cold without my jacket. But when I imagine what it might be like to stay cuddled close to Dane’s side all night, using him as a human furnace, I start to warm up to the thought.
Then, in an instant, I’m not thinking about the party at all.
I try to scream when I feel a strong, thick arm hook around my waist from behind, but his gloved hand clamps down tightly over my mouth. He pulls me back against his chest, and I’m vaguely aware
that he’s shorter than me in my heels. Regardless, his grip is so firm around me that I can’t wiggle free. Even though I’m sure it’ll do no good, I scream. It only serves to make the assailant more aggressive.
“Shut the fuck up and I won’t hurt you, sweetheart.”
I try to gasp, and my eyes open wide at his use of the term sweetheart.
Only—it doesn’t sound like Chandler, and this doesn’t feel like a cruel joke.
“Now, you listen, and you listen closely,” the stranger demands, his breath hot against my neck. “I’ve warned you before, and if I have to warn you again, I won’t be so gentle. Drop the Bridgewater case, do you hear me? Tell your fucking boss that he’s done—or else.”
I hear a car pull up behind me. My heart is racing so fast, I feel like it might explode. When the vehicle screeches to a halt, the man at my back lets me go. I’m so scared, I don’t think to look at the car as it speeds off. Instead, I race to mine, scrambling to get inside as quickly as possible. My hands are shaking so badly it takes me three tries before I can get the key in the ignition. Once I finally get it started, I pull out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell.
I can feel tears falling down my face, but I’m too busy trying to keep myself from hyperventilating as I drive the short distance to the office to be able to truly cry. Traffic prevents me from getting there as quickly as I’d like, but I still manage to make it in less than twenty minutes. All the while, I keep checking in my rearview mirror to make sure nobody has followed me. Even though I don’t see anyone, it doesn’t stop me from being paranoid that I’m not alone.
Once in the parking garage of the office, I find Dane’s SUV and pull in right next to it. I don’t even care that it’s a reserved spot—it’s close to the elevator, and that’s all I can think about right now. All I want is to get upstairs. I try and take a deep breath as I look around the garage, but I can’t. My heart is still racing, and I can barely think about anything other than getting to Dane.