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Second Time's the Charm

Page 6

by Knight, Vanessa


  Guilt crawled up her spine. This was her friend. How could she do this to a friend? Then again, Allison did have roadside assistance. Julie had called and set up the membership herself. She had to keep Allison from the condo, and this could buy her at least an hour while Allison waited for them to put on the spare.

  She hated what she had to do, but she had to protect him. No matter what the cost. Allison would understand. Julie ran to the back of her car and sifted through the piles of junk. She really needed to clean out her trunk.

  She glanced at the screwdriver and looked dubiously at the potential victim.

  Chapter Seven

  Allison trudged through the abandoned office. She had called Doug Kaminski and setup a meeting for first thing Monday morning. He’d always been a steady customer and a great friend to Herb. She figured meeting with him was a great way to start her week.

  The conversation only lasted a few minutes, but apparently it was long enough for the employees to stampede from the office and take advantage of a beautiful Friday afternoon. She was glad Adam sent out an email for everyone to leave a little early today. That they took the opportunity spoke volumes about the depth of their sadness—or it could have been the appeal of an early start to their weekends.

  The brightly lit elevator barreled its way to the parking garage. Allison blinked as she slowly exited the car and entered the ominous expanse. A cacophony of street noises wafted through the exhaust-tinged air of the complex, and her heels clicked on the concrete as she walked up behind her car. She pressed the remote and the car chirped to life.

  She made her way to the driver’s side door, but her eyes were drawn to the left rear tire. The familiar half-moon shape sagged into the concrete. How could she have another flat? She shook her head as she leaned down and assessed the damage.

  “Damn it.” She rose and looked around the garage. What did she do now? She sighed in disgust.

  Why hadn’t she taken a general car care course in college? Surely that would have been more useful than that ceramics class. After all, how often had she called on her ability to carve and texture clay? She could have used Tire Changing 101 twice this week alone.

  She pulled out her cell phone and sifted through the list of contacts. She smiled when she found the number of the motor club. She’d have to make sure she thanked Julie for setting her up. After the tire incident last week, Julie insisted she get some sort of service for the future. After all, Brook’s boyfriends wouldn’t always be around to perform basic car maintenance.

  Allison clicked the contact and brought the phone to her ear. She listened to the silent hum of dis-connectivity. Damn cell phone. Damn garage. Damn tire.

  She stared at the desolate parking garage. There was no point staying here when there was a perfectly good phone at her desk. She made her way back to the elevator and waited for the doors to open. She tapped her foot and caught sight of the sparkly shoes on her feet.

  She had never been interested in designer clothing or footwear until Loraine took her shopping a few years ago. Loraine felt that a Vice President should have a few classic staples in her closet, and was appalled when Allison had none of them. Allison hated the clothes at first. She felt like a fake. The clothes looked so sophisticated, and she was a woman who— who only used words like “sophisticated”

  But, to the detriment of her wallet, she’d grown to love them, the clothes and the shoes. And the shopping trips with Loraine were just the icing on the blinged- out cake.

  A ding sounded as the elevator opened its doors. She walked into the car, only to hit a brick wall. Well, it felt like a brick wall. Upon closer inspection, she’d run into a broad chest with thick shoulders. The force of the impact threw her equilibrium off. She started to stagger backward, and large hands wrapped around her arms.

  The strong grip kept her body grounded as her mind spun like a Tilt-A-Whirl.

  What did she hit? A semi-truck? she wondered as her googly eyes refocused. She finally looked into the smiling face of the barrier.

  “Are you okay?” Adam asked as he continued to hold her.

  Shock from impact, or from the musky scent he wore, scattered her thoughts. She stared blankly as Adam’s face furrowed in concern. He waved a hand in front of her eyes.

  “Are you okay?” The distress in his voice managed to snap her out of her stupefaction.

  “Yes,” she whispered, inches from his face. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek. Her heartbeat accelerated as her sight moved from his eyes to his lips. No matter how hard she tried to fight the urge, she couldn't help but think about kissing those lips.

  Adam’s luscious, full lips…Gaaa! She snapped her head away and pulled out of Adam’s grasp. Her feet staggered at the force of her retreat. She reached her arms out for balance and dug her heel into the ground. When the wobbling stopped, she steeled her spine and glared at the arrogant grin spreading across his face.

  “What are you doing here?” she snarled. “I’m just leaving. Why are you going back?” “My tire is flat. I’m calling the motor club.” “Do you have a spare?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well.” He took off his suit jacket and handed it to her. “I’ll take care of her. Where’d you park?” He held out his upturned hand, and she looked at him incredulously.

  Golden boy was going to change a tire and he wanted to hold her hand? Maybe he’d dipped into his father’s hidden liquor stash. Although the urge to grab his hand was overwhelming, she abstained. “What?” she barked.

  “Keys? So I can get your spare tire, unless you’d like to get it yourself.”

  Allison sighed, and just knew her face had turned an embarrassing shade of red. Thank God the parking garage was dark. “No. Here.” She handed him the jingling set of metal as he walked toward her car.

  Adam leaned down, assessing the damage to the tire. “This tire’s flat.” “I’m wearing shoes.” She rolled her eyes.

  “What?” His eyebrows curled in confusion as he walked to the trunk and inserted the key.

  “I’m sorry. I thought we were playing Let’s-State-the-Obvious.”

  A smile replaced the confusion. Heat spread over her body at the humor in his eyes. He lifted the trunk lid, and after a brief minute of tossing and flailing, he looked at Allison. “Where is your spare tire?”

  “Isn’t it in there? I think I only used it once.”

  “Did they return the spare when they put on the new tire?” He glanced at the right-hand side of her car.

  Oops. She knew there was something she’d meant to do today.

  His question was answered when he realized the front tire was currently the spare. “Allison,” he huffed. “Why didn’t you have your spare taken off and a permanent tire placed on the car?”

  “I forgot,” she said. “But in my defense, the car was running fine on the spare.” Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. “You do understand the concept of the spare tire, correct? The spare allows you to take a car to the mechanic without having it towed.”

  “I’m well aware,” she snapped. “However, some of us have been too busy running a company to have time for luxuries like car maintenance.”

  “It’s not a luxury, it’s a requirement.”

  “Bite me,” she hissed and walked away. She should have called the motor club.

  They would have helped without all of the blasted commentary. “Where are you going?”

  “To call the motor club.” She stomped toward the elevator.

  Adam leaned against the car. “Look. By the time the motor club gets here, it’s going to be dark. Why don’t we just deal with this tomorrow? I can give you a ride to the condo, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. I can bring a spare from one of Dad’s cars.”

  “Thank you. But the condo’s only a few blocks away. I can walk.”

  “Actually, I’d love to see the old place again, if you don’t mind. It beats heading to the hotel alone or going home and listening to my mom and Dale talk about the bliss that i
s ‘action through inaction’.”

  She turned at the sound of his voice. It almost sounded like begging. That might have been wishful thinking on her part. How she’d love to hear the man beg. Her posture softened as she realized she was going to take him up on his offer. She could just feel it in her heart. Damn, she was a sucker when it came to Adam Byrnes. Looking into his earnest eyes, any remaining annoyance slipped away. Her lips warmed into a smile as she said, “What does that mean? How do you act through inaction?”

  Adam ran a hand through his deliciously rumpled hair, his mouth turning up into a devilish grin. The gleam in his eyes just melted her insides. “I have no clue, but apparently it has led to numerous philosophical debates in the Byrnes household.”

  “Sounds fascinating.” She faced her now defunct auto. “I suppose I’ll take you up on that ride. Where’s your car?”

  “It’s the blue thing over there.” He pointed as they walked to the other side of the garage, toward a small compact car.

  Her lips curved as she took in the vehicle. To call it a car was a stretch.

  “Seriously? Were they out of, like, every other car known to man?” she joked as they walked up to the toy-like automobile. “Wow. Is this battery operated, or are there pedals? I think your father bought this same car for Julie’s son for Christmas.”

  “Are you done mocking the rental?” He gently tapped the hood. “You might hurt her feelings, and then she might run you down like some 80’s horror movie.”

  Allison’s smile grew as she pictured the little car coming at her, and there she was, her right arm outstretched, holding it back by the hood, the car grunting and flashing its lights while she casually glanced at the nails of her left hand. Are you done with your hissy fit? Allison would ask it. It would honk in response.

  She was still smiling as she squeezed her five-ten frame into the miniature car.

  * * *

  They crept through the seven blocks of Chicago traffic. Pedestrians lined the sidewalks and waited at crosswalks, headphones hanging from their ears. Rows and rows of red lights stood between them and their destination. Adam deftly navigated the over-crowded, one-way streets of downtown to find the condo’s parking garage. He stopped to pay the garage fee.

  “Is that twenty dollars per day? I always figured they got a free parking spot just by living here.” Allison’s eyes bulged, and Adam laughed as her bottom lip plumped into a childlike pout. She was adorable when she sulked.

  She must have noticed his attention, because she bit her lip and looked down at the floor. His body rattled and hummed in response to those lips, and he shook his head. He needed to control his thoughts.

  He started racking his brain, thinking of anything to curb his reaction before the tent in his lap became too obvious. He looked around the garage for help. Large cars. Nope. Sports cars. Sexy curves. Nope. Damn. He looked over at Allison and ran a hand over his face. This wasn’t working. Nothing was getting his mind off of Allison and those lips. Ugh!

  Starting over, he remembered his mom slapping him upside his head for daydreaming. That was one way to ensure his body would calm down. Visions of parents tended to cool down the hottest of situations.

  Satisfied with his impulse-suppression technique, he drove along the ramps of the parking structure, looking for an open spot.

  “Twenty dollars a day. Wow.” Allison said again.

  “Yeah. They really like to rake you over the coals to own a car down here.”

  “I think I’ll take my car to Brook’s house in Oak Park. Now that I live so close to work, there’s no point in paying what could be a mortgage payment for a parking spot.”

  He smiled as he pulled the clown car into the first available spot. He’d fought with the rental company to get something a little bigger—his legs actually bumped the dashboard every time he used the brakes. They’d explained that they had no other cars on site, but assured him they would call when the next mid-size or greater came available. That was three days ago, and he was still driving the matchbox.

  As they walked to the elevator, Adam asked, “Have you been here before?” “A few times. Your parents had their last company Christmas party here. Since most of the employees are from the city, and the local news was calling for a huge snowstorm, they had decided to have the party downtown instead of the house in the ’burbs.”

  “So they scheduled their party according to television weather predictions?” “Don’t knock it. The weathermen in this town rock, and they’re forecasts, not predictions. They’re not fortune tellers.” She walked into the elevator. He pushed the button for the lobby as she stared at the twelve-inch television mounted to the elevator walls. Paul Mörder’s face danced across the small screen while a woman’s voice narrated the story.

  “…Mörder’s lawyers have filed a motion to throw out the bribery charges. His defense team alleges that the State of Illinois has bullied these lawyers and judges into claiming Mörder bribed them. The State Prosecutor on the case had this to say

  —‘This is just one more ploy from the Mörder camp. We need to stand strong against the real bullies who attempt to stifle the diplomatic process. He will be tried by a jury of his peers and justice will prevail.’ Strong words from a government that has had enough. Back to you, Robin…”

  “I love this little TV. It’s God’s gift to those of us with ADD. We get to be bombarded with information while we wait in the elevator.” Allison stared at the next news story in awe.

  “I need to stop in the lobby to get my dad’s mail.” “I’d love to see the lobby.”

  “Haven’t you been in the lobby before?” he asked, excitement building in his gut. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it.

  “No. I always went straight up from the parking garage.”

  The doors opened to the lobby, and Adam waited. He was not disappointed. Allison gasped as they ambled out into the large foyer. The fifty-foot-high enclosure sparkled as the light from the setting sun shone through the windows onto the white marble floors. They paused at the large porcelain water feature.

  Poseidon sat with his arms spread, trident held high, hidden jets making water dance all around him.

  His eyes roamed the bustling city within the four walls. To their left stood a lounge where inhabitants and visitors were enjoying an early evening aperitif. To their right was a full-service mail room, grocery, and spa. In the center of the grandiose atrium were multiple banks of elevators.

  They toured the floor, wandering past the selection of restaurants and bars until Adam found one of the doormen. Adam walked over to a young guy, probably no more than twenty-five, wearing a pressed gray tunic with silver buttons. His nondescript red tie, white gloves, and white shirt were spotless. His multiple ear piercings and subtle eyeliner conflicted with the slicked-back hair and immaculate uniform.

  The doorman’s attention seemed to be otherwise engaged. Adam followed the path of his gaze and landed on Allison. The young man’s eyes shifted up and down her curves. Adam fought an urge to use his fist to divert the gawker’s attention. After all, she was rather nice to look at, and technically, he had no claim on her.

  “Hi.” Adam moved to block his view and gain his attention. The guy turned, eyes wide. “Y-yes, sir.”

  Busted. He probably shouldn’t be gawking at the building inhabitants. “I’m Herb Byrnes’ son, Adam Byrnes, and the woman you were watching is Allison Southby. She’s the new owner of the Byrnes’ condo.”

  “Really.” The man smiled and glanced back at Allison. Adam could relate. Having Allison at his place of employment had made work a lot more enjoyable, too. Of course, not counting the past week, she’d been just out of her teens when they’d worked together. Well, shit, this kid wasn’t much older than a teenager. Adam knew what thoughts flew through the minds of hormone driven practically- teens.

  A twinge of something mimicking jealousy shot through his gut at the child’s obvious admiration of her. Good thing he wasn’t carrying his gun. “Ahem.
I’m here to pick up my father’s mail. I spoke to someone a few days ago, and asked to have it held at the front desk.”

  “Sure, Mr. Byrnes. It’s being held in the mail room. I’ll go pick that up for you.”

  “Please, call me Adam. I don’t want to take you away from your job. I’d be happy to get it…” He paused, not sure of the man’s name. When he didn’t offer it, Adam added, “And your name is?”

  “Oh, my name is Matt.” He pulled a nametag from his pocket. Great place for it. “I can run to the post office. It’s no problem. LaQuitha, I have to leave the desk for a minute. Can you hold down the fort?” A woman in a matching uniform nodded her head, and Matt went off to retrieve the mail. Within minutes he was walking back, bag of mail in hand, to where Adam stood waiting.

  “Thanks.” Adam smiled as he took the overstuffed plastic bag. He walked toward Allison as she entered the elevator car, standing outside the elevator and watching as she looked for the button for the fiftieth floor. Her eyebrows arched in confusion, and she raised her eyes to meet his.

  He lifted an arm to hold the door open. “This bank of elevators doesn’t go past the thirty-fifth floor. You have to go to the east bank,” he said, pointing to a separate grouping across the way.

  She exited the car, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He glanced at Matt, whose pimply face fell as he watched them meander to the nearest penthouse-level elevator. Adam smiled in triumph. It wasn't his fault Matt misinterpreted his arm around her and thought they were a couple.

  After all, he was just doing Allison a favor. She didn’t need some hormonal child sniffing around her. Adam was helping to rid her of a future barely-legal nuisance. They located the correct elevator, and Adam put the key into the slot to access the fiftieth floor.

  “The elevator won’t open unless you have the key. It keeps the common folk out of the elevator,” Adam joked.

 

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