by Layla Holt
I can’t be with you. I can’t bear to look at your scars. I’m sorry.
"Corrine, talk to me," Lance said, jolting her back to the present.
She couldn’t bear to look at him. she knew that she would find the same look of revulsion that Mark had worn. She took a step back. Lance grabbed her arm.
"Please, let me go," she said weakly and he dropped his hand.
She grabbed her jacket, handbag and shoes and fled without bothering to put on her shoes.
Chapter Seven
THE FIGURES IN FRONT of him did not make sense but Lance knew the reason for it. And she was seated a few feet from him. He couldn’t concentrate enough to go through the sales figures for Vista gum.
He was determined that when the time came to put forth his proposal, there would be no margin for error. No reason to make the board members refuse to move forward with the merger. Corrine’s anguished face kept pushing their way to the forefront of his mind.
I get it, I’m ugly!
The words played over and over in his mind. What had led Corrine to reach such a wrong conclusion? She was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. She was sexy and attractive and she had a laugh that brought joy to his own heart.
Lance thought about it long and hard, and reached a conclusion. Only a man could have put such a thought into her head. He folded his hand into a fist. And she had believed it! Protective feelings came over him. He couldn’t believe that Corrine walked around believing that she was ugly and could not attract a man.
Listlessly, he stood up, intending to go to the window. Instead, he found himself marching out of his office. Corrine did not look up as he approached her desk. Lance walked around her desk and as she looked up in surprise, he swiveled her chair to face him.
Then he knelt down and stared up at her. He reached out to touch her cheek and then ran a finger over her scar. She cringed.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he said. “This scar gives you character. It separates you from the herd of beautiful women. It tells part of your story. It makes you who you are, Corrine Roberts.”
Tears filled her eyes. Her lower lip trembled. He dropped his hand to her mouth and he ran a finger over her lip. If only she knew what it took not to throw caution to the wind, seize her in his arms and kiss her senseless.
“Then why did you pull back?” she said.
He dropped his hand from her face. “My reasons had nothing to do with your scar, Corrine, and everything to do with me. You’re beautiful and sexy and don’t ever let anyone tell you any different.” It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to get up and walk back to his office.
Lance’s breath came out in gasps as though he had been running. He sat down and stared at the documents on the table.
Then why did you pull back?
A growl of frustration rose from the back of his throat. She had wanted him to continue kissing her!
It was one thing to suspect it but quite another to hear it from Corrine herself. He needed movement. He got up and paced his office. Women were trouble. They were not all genuine and, like Patricia, usually had hidden agendas.
But Corrine was not like that. He hadn’t known her for long but he had spent a lot of time with her to see that she was genuine. She was too honest to have hidden agendas. Lance inhaled deeply.
He’d established that she wasn’t going to pull a Patricia on him. What else was stopping him from pursuing a relationship with her?
She would lose her job if Dean or Beatrice from HR knew something was going on between them. Neither he nor his brothers had ever pulled the power card by interfering with the workings of the various departments.
They ran a professional, tight ship, just as their father had done. So placing Beatrice in a position of defending her decisions by saying that ‘Lance told me so’ was not an option.
He couldn’t date his secretary. He couldn’t risk her losing her job. Nothing had changed. She was still out of bounds. The reasons had changed but the bottom line remained the same.
Then why did you pull back?
Lance’s feet felt like blocks of cement as he walked back to his chair rather than following his instincts. Everything in him screamed for him to go to Corrine, pull her up from her chair and kiss her until her lips became bruised. Common sense overrode the instincts.
“IS ADRIAN ANY GOOD?” Lillian asked, a giggle in her voice. She was the main receptionist; the first face visitors saw when they entered Candin Inc.
“He may well be, but I’m not,” Mary McGill, his secretary said.
The buzz of conversation went on around Corrine, the other secretaries’ voices ringing with excitement. Her own excitement for the ping pong competition had faded, eclipsed by what had happened in the office earlier.
Her raw needy voice asking Lance why he had pulled back. His intense trembling voice as he tried to explain to her why he had stopped kissing her. And telling her how beautiful she was. You couldn’t fake the honesty she had heard in his voice.
She inhaled deeply. A seed of hope had formed in her heart. Maybe her mom had been right. Maybe she wasn’t ugly. She knew Lance enough now to know that he didn’t pull punches. And he had no filter in his mouth. He spoke his mind.
He’d called her beautiful. Corrine’s eyes filled. Even before her accident, she couldn’t remember anyone ever using that word to describe her. Pretty, yes, but never beautiful.
“What about you Corrine?” Lillian asked. “Do you think you and Lance Cohan have a chance at winning?”
Corrine grinned, frightened that the emotions whirling inside her would show on her face. “I think so.”
“All right everyone, we are about to start. Can we all move to the ping pong tables?” Jaime said.
As Corrine stood up, her eyes immediately sought Lance at the table where he and the other bosses liked to sit. She met his gaze and instead of quickly glancing away as she normally did, she smiled at him. His intense look softened and the corners of his lips lifted into a smile.
“Let’s go,” someone said and she reluctantly turned away.
“We’ll have one of our CEOs and his secretary start us off,” Jaime announced.
It didn’t come as a surprise that she and Lance would go first. Jaime had sort of hinted at it. After the first game, they would follow the schedules pinned on the walls.
“Lance Cohan and Corrine Roberts will play against Stephen Grant and his secretary Marjorie Jones,” Jaime announced.
A cheer went up. Corrine shrugged off her jacket.
“Good luck Corrine,” Mary said and the others echoed her.
Coolly she joined Lance at the ping pong table. He handed her the paddle.
“Ready partner?” he said.
“Absolutely,” Corrine said.
He grinned and for a few seconds she forgot everything and admired his insanely good looks. When he smiled, her heart forgot to beat. Corrine forced her mind back to the game.
“Michael from accounts and Jo from HR will be our refs,” Jaime continued. “And remember people, this is not the Olympics. We are here to have some fun.”
“And win,” someone shouted and everyone laughed.
“That too,” Jaime conceded. “But people will lose. Live with it.”
It was an easy match for her and Lance. Clearly Stephen and Marjorie were novices at the game. As if they could read each other’s minds, Corrine and Lance went easy on them and even deliberately lost a few points just to make the game interesting.
Another game was going on at the next table and some of the onlookers moved to the other side. She was aware of Lance as they played. The swift movements of his hands as he hit the ball. His heavy breathing as they played on.
The way his shirt clung to his skin in patches where he’d sweated a lot. Corrine’s mind drifted to the conversation they’d had. Where did that leave them? It was clear that Lance did not want to take things further between them.
He did not want to
be romantically involved with her and yet she’d caught a glimpse of his attraction to her. Maybe he was committed to some lucky lady. Except that as his secretary she’d be privy to such information.
She’d have known by now if Lance Cohan was seeing someone. Whatever his reason, it was not that there was another woman on the scene.
She sighed. It didn’t really matter why. What mattered was that nothing was going to happen between them. And she was okay with that. It was too soon anyway. It was not even three months ago that she’d been in another relationship and in love with another man.
She and Lance would only ever be friends. And she was okay with that, Corrine told herself.
“Hey, they’re catching up,” Lance whispered into her ear. “Let’s get serious.”
Corrine snapped back to the present. Lance was right. Stephen and Marjorie were closing in.
“I’m with you,” she said to Lance and in the minutes that followed, her concentration was wholly on the match.
They won that match. Then the official matches begun and they stood around with everyone else watching and cheering.
“Thank you everyone for participating by playing and cheering the players,” Jaime said when the matches were over. “We’ll continue with the next set of matches tomorrow.”
From the schedule, Corrine saw that the next time they had a match was days away. She went up to the office in the company of the other secretaries. She made for the washroom as soon she reached her floor. Her blouse was half wet and she made a face as she leaned over the sink and splashed water on her face.
She was probably stinky from sweat and her face pink from the physical effort of playing ping pong, but she couldn’t remember feeling as alive as she did at that moment. There was nothing she could do about her blouse until she got home.
Corrine returned to the office and found Lance already there. He was standing by her desk and he whirled around when he heard her footsteps.
“Well done,” he said.
“Not really,” Corrine said. “It wasn’t a difficult match.” With Lance she could admit that the game had been too easy. Not challenging at all.
He chuckled. “I know what you mean. I hope there’ll be harder games tomorrow.”
Corrine laughed. “Listen to us. Instead of celebrating easy games, we’re asking for difficult ones.”
“But that’s when it becomes fun,” Lance said, echoing her thoughts. “The more skilled the players, the more enjoyable it is.”
“I agree,” Corrine said.
An awkward silence grew between them. Lance cleared his throat. It was as though they’d forgotten what they were supposed to be doing.
“I’ll be in my office when Peter Mansfield arrives,” he finally said.
Chapter Eight
AS WAS HER HABIT, CORRINE popped her head into his office just before she left for the day. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Lance said. “Thanks for a great day.”
She merely smiled and then withdrew. He felt almost bereft when she left. The office seemed emptier, lonelier. He listened to the click of her heels until they gradually faded. Lance got up and went to the window. He’d thought of doing it before but he had always managed to fight that urge.
But he couldn’t today. He needed to catch one last glimpse of Corrine. Several minutes later, she emerged from the building and strode across the parking lot to a red sedan parked in the last row. He felt like a perv as he watched her fish for her keys in her handbag, unlock the car and then disappear inside.
He expected Corrine to ease her car out of the parking space and leave for home in the next minute or two. Instead, the car hadn’t moved in the next five minutes. He couldn’t see her from his spot and every instinct in him said that she wasn’t okay.
Lance turned away from the window and hurried out. The stairs were faster and he sprinted down, taking two at a time. Her car was still in the same spot and he could see Corrine’s figure as she sat unmoving in the front.
His heart pounding hard, Lance went to the driver’s side and yanked the door open.
She jumped, startled. Relief flooded him.
“Is everything okay?” Lance said.
She let out a breath. “The car won’t start.”
“Have you checked the battery?” Lance asked even though he knew she hadn’t. She was acting odd and he wanted her to keep talking.
“No,” Corrine said, her voice trembling.
“It’s okay, I’ll check it for you,” Lance said. “I know my way around cars.”
He reached for the lever at the bottom of the steering wheel. As he did so, his hand brushed against Corrine’s knee. He ignored the awareness that lit up his body at the contact.
He glanced at her face, expecting to find the look of surprise she usually wore when they touched accidently. She looked frightened. Lance frowned. First things first. He needed to check the car.
A glance at the fuel gauge told him the car had gas. He went to the front and lifted the hood open. The battery was clean enough. Sometimes corrosion stopped it from working properly.
He fiddled around with the battery terminals and then returned to the front. The frightened look lingered on Corrine’s face. All he wanted to do was to gather her in his arms and soothe her from whatever turmoil she was going through. But first he had to sort out her immediate problem.
He turned the ignition on and the dashboard lights came on weakly. The trouble was the battery.
"Your battery is dead. The car needs a new one. I’ll call someone to come and get it," Lance said. "Meanwhile I'll go get my keys and take you home."
"Thanks," she said in an exhausted voice.
His heart crushed. Without thinking about it, he leaned into the car and kissed her forehead. Then he sprinted back to his office. When he returned, Corrine was standing beside his car. With the wind whipping around her, she had lost the vulnerable confused look and she even managed a smile. Relief flooded him.
"Are you picking up your aunt?" Lance asked, now familiar with her routine.
"No," Corrine said. "She has a coffee date."
Lance chuckled. He wasn’t surprised to hear that Corrine's aunt still went on dates. She was a young soul and she lived life to the fullest.
“You can leave the key in the ignition,” Lance said. “It’ll be safe.”
Corrine gave him directions to her home and he put on some soft music in the hope that it would soothe her. It did the trick because soon she was leaning against the back rest, a relaxed look on her face.
A deep sigh escaped` her lips. He wondered what had caused her to look so frightened. Any driver knew that a car could let you down any time by refusing to start. There had to be another reason for her distress. He would ask her when he got her home.
Twenty minutes later and they were parked in front of a neat looking cottage. The kind of place that reminded a person of warm fires and thick satin throws draped over furniture.
"Are you okay?" Lance said. He was treading in foreign waters. He'd dated more than his fair share of women but he had never gotten so close to one that he cared about every little thing that was going on with her.
He wanted to fix all of Corrine’s problems. That was frightening but it wasn’t like he had a choice. He could not drop her off and leave. She was his employee. It was also his responsibility to make sure that she was fine.
She nodded and gave a shaky smile.
"What happened back there?" Lance said, promising himself not to pursue it further if she didn’t want to talk about it.
"Let’s go in for a cup of coffee and I'll tell you," she said in a surprisingly firm voice. She sounded like the Corrine he knew.
"Sure," he said and unbuckled his belt.
The interior of the cottage was close to what he had imagined. It had a fireplace and warm looking throws placed on the arm rests of the couch. What caught his attention was the sheer number of paintings that covered the walls.
"Make yo
urself comfy while I make us some coffee,” Corrine said.
"Thanks," he said.
He walked around the living room, looking at the paintings. Some were portraits and others were gorgeous landscapes that depicted peaceful looking places. Places that a man would want to hibernate with his woman. The image of a smiling Corrine popped into his head and he pushed it away.
Corrine would never be his woman. She was his employee and the sooner that penetrated his brain, the better.
He turned to watch her as she bustled around the kitchen. She hummed as she worked and he found himself smiling. He was glad that whatever had been bothering her had eased.
She returned to the living area carrying two mugs of coffee. Lance sat down on the couch and she sat on the other end of it. He watched her as she wrapped her hands around the mug and brought it to her very sensuous mouth.
What was it about her that had ignited these feelings? She was beautiful but he'd been around beautiful women all his dating life. What she did have that other women did not, was an aura that captivated people.
"You must think I'm weird," she said and added with a laugh. "I think I'm weird."
"I'll confirm that after you tell me what happened," Lance said, using the same casual playful tone as Corrie.
She placed her mug back on the coffee table and angled her body to face him. "When the car refused to start, it brought back bad memories of the accident and I froze. I couldn’t bring myself to do what a normal human being would do, which is to check under the hood."
"Accident?" Lance said. His insides clenched as he imagined Corrine in an accident, helpless and frightened.
Her hand rose and rested on her scar. "The one that caused my face to be mangled up."
He cringed at her choice of words but did not correct her as he did not want to interrupt the flow. Her face was not mangled. The scarring was there but it was mild and as he'd told her earlier, it enhanced her beauty rather than diminishing it.
But in a flash moment of insight, Lance realized there were no words he could tell Corrine to dislodge that belief that she held on to.
