Chapter Thirteen
Archer glared at the analytics for his website. Given some time and a lot more work, he could probably make the site take off. Online sales were up this month, and at this pace, it could be the thing that saved the shop.
Right. And if he willed the numbers to change, three extra zeroes might appear at the end. It sounded as effective as anything else he’d tried.
He sat in his office—a tiny room tucked behind the main store, which had been a walk-in pantry at earlier points in its life—hoping he’d find a new answer if he stared at figures long enough. He wasn’t picky where the numbers came from. At this point, he was tempted to write down a few random ones, to have something positive to look at.
He pushed aside his laptop and flopped back in his office chair. If he was willing to tighten his belt, cut his salary, make sure the middle-floor apartments were never empty—and raise the rent fifty bucks a month—and stop hosting the anime club, or at least stop paying to feed them, he could make things work.
Maybe he could call Gwen or Zane and ask for some help with the search-engine keywords. As soon as the thought formed, he knew it was a bad one. Without Tori, he didn’t have any connection to Gwen, and he was lucky Zane hadn’t brained him for what he’d pulled with Riley. What the hell had he been thinking? Why did being around Riley do that to him?
The train of thought was derailed by memories of Tori’s reaction, and the fact she still wasn’t speaking to him. Well, that wasn’t completely true. She had texted him a thank you for the flowers. He sighed. Forget about Zane or Riley. How was he going to make things better with Tori?
He probably wasn’t. He turned his attention back to the website. He was on his own for all of this.
Derrek knocked on the door frame at the same time he poked his head around the corner. “Elliot’s here.”
“Send him back.” Something told Archer he didn’t want to be having this conversation, but there was no reason to be rude.
A moment later, Elliot dropped into the padded chair across from Archer’s desk and kicked his feet onto a nearby banker’s box. He set his briefcase on the floor next to him. “How’s business?”
“Same old stuff. Still feeding people’s addictions.”
“We’ve finalized the details on our sponsorship program.” Elliot grabbed something from the side pocket of his case and slid it across the desk.
This again? Archer kept his pleasant smile in place. “That’s nice.”
“This is a preliminary contract. You can have a lawyer look it over, and all that stuff. The terms are pretty straightforward. We pay you a fixed amount every month—basically an advertising fee—and you agree to feature our comics in your storefront. You don’t have to carry us exclusively, and there aren’t currently any restrictions on how many of their books you stock versus ours. As long as you make sure we get top billing.”
Archer nodded, to indicate he understood. Such a bad idea. He liked Elliot well enough—the only rep he had, who stopped by regularly and was friendly—but Elliot’s company wasn’t his top seller, and they didn’t provide him with any merchandise to back up the comic sales. Archer would be sacrificing prime real estate, to sign this deal.
“You’re not considering it. Are you?” Elliot grabbed the contract off the desk.
“Nope.”
“Did you hear Tori out?”
“You talked to Tori about this?”
Elliot shrugged. “I’m surprised she didn’t say something. Well, no. Actually, I’m not.”
Archer wasn’t either, but he didn’t like the disdain in the other man’s voice. “Don’t drag her into this. And what the hell kind of ethics are you practicing, to go behind my back and discuss my business with someone else?”
“But it’s not just about you.” Elliot folded back the pages of the contract and placed it in front of Archer again. “Addendum A says she gets a cut and your cut grows, if she’s willing to make one costume a week, to our specifications, for display in your store.”
A foreign kind of frustration and impotence poured through Archer. On one hand, not only did he need another revenue stream, but this could give Tori the encouragement she needed to do more with her talent. On the other, something didn’t feel right about the deal. That didn’t mean he liked her keeping the information from him. “What Tori does is her decision.”
“Really? What makes you think she’d seize something like this without someone pushing her every step of the way?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m giving both of you an excellent chance. You know—know—that left to her own devices, she’ll let this opportunity rot. She doesn’t have the confidence, she doesn’t have the balls, and she’d rather someone else took the reins and gave her a direction.”
“Get out.” Archer was on his feet before he could process what he was doing.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re not.” Archer clenched his hands by his sides. “I won’t listen to you talk about anyone like that, especially not her.”
“The truth hurts.”
“Get the fuck out.”
“Call me when you see the light.” Elliot nodded at the contract, never flinching. “The offer won’t be good for long.”
Archer held back his roar, but only barely. He dropped back into his chair, hands still shaking. He didn’t know which of Elliot’s assumptions bothered him the most. The one thing he knew was he owed Tori a serious apology.
Besides, he wanted to see her. Needed to talk to her. Was desperate to hold her. He paused as the desires sank in and took root. It was as if every thought of Tori had crawled under his skin.
It should bother him. Getting involved so deeply with someone, relying so heavily on having them around, was what had gotten him in trouble in his last relationship.
Except this was different. Riley was an impulse, but Tori was an addictive, wonderful, all-consuming need. And he wanted to feed that craving.
He grabbed his keys and cut a straight line for the front door. “I’ll be back later,” he called to Derrek as the door swung shut behind him. “Close up if I’m not.”
“Got it.” Derrek’s response was muffled by the glass, as the door swung shut.
Archer was grateful Tori lived close, but the drive still seemed to take forever. He pulled into the visitor parking next to her condo, shut off the engine, and sprinted up the steps to her place.
Please let her answer. He couldn’t help his smile when her door swung open.
She didn’t look quite as happy to see him. “Hey.” She stepped aside and gestured for him to come in.
He stopped immediately inside, unable to wait any longer, to say what he was thinking. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “About what happened with Riley the other day; about brushing you aside because she was around; about whatever else I may have done to hurt you…”
The corners of her mouth tugged up, but her eyes still looked sad. “It’s all right.” She nodded to the couch. “Do you want to stick around for a little bit?”
“What’s going on?” He hated her sorrow, but he had no idea how to erase it. Something thrummed in his chest when he saw the large teddy bear sitting in one of the easy chairs. He dropped on the couch and patted the cushion next to him.
“Work shit. Same old stuff,” she said.
Right. That. One of those things he couldn’t threaten for her or make go away, regardless of how much he wanted to. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.” She straddled his legs and draped her arms around his neck. “Talking doesn’t solve as many things as you think.”
He hadn’t expected this. Almost a week of not speaking to him, and now she sat in his lap. Every time she shifted her weight, she rubbed his cock through his jeans. He hardened under the attention.
He needed to find out where the sudden one-eighty came from. He dug his fingers into her hips, and he exhaled through clenched teeth. This felt incredible. He wanted to let her drive the moment as
much as he wanted to know what was going on. It wouldn’t solve anything, but they could work that out later, right?
He didn’t resist when she pressed her lips to his, hungry and desperate. Fuck. She tasted amazing. She trailed her nails along the back of his neck, and he ran his fingers up her spine to clasp her head and hold her in place. She whimpered and ground against him.
Something salty mingled with the kiss, and his gut sank. He broke away, his heart crashing at the sight of her tears.
Chapter Fourteen
When Archer showed up, Tori was seconds away from telling him to go to hell. But the confrontation with her employees left her drained, and she wanted Archer. His comfort. And desperately to not think.
For a moment after she climbed in his lap, she thought he was going to tell her no. Then his body responded, and he did as well. It wasn’t a solution, but she wanted to not feel the emotional pain. To only experience the bliss of his touch. When she kissed him, he grabbed back, and she threw herself into the physical. She could cope with the rest later. This would be a salve on her wounds.
Except the tears sliding down her face betrayed her, and she couldn’t hold them back. He broke the kiss, searching her gaze with concern.
“Shit. Tori, no.” He moved his hand to her cheek and brushed away the tears.
She shook her head and tried to lean in for another kiss.
He placed a palm on her chest, keeping the distance between them. “Talk to me, please?”
“No.” She snarled and tore away, clambering to her feet. “I don’t want to talk about this, because our relationship is about sex. Not baring our souls.”
“Except we had friendship first. The sex isn’t worth it if we lose that.”
The words cut deep, drawing out more tears. She ran the back of her hand across her cheeks. “Damn it, Archer. You can’t have it both ways. It’s supposed to be no strings. That’s why it’s okay for you to throw yourself at your ex-girlfriend in front of me?” She choked on the words, but she couldn’t stop. “Or maybe that doesn’t matter, since it doesn’t seem to bother you she’s taken.”
“I shouldn’t have acted the way I did with Riley. But this won’t fix it.”
“Nothing can fix this.” It took the last of her restraint to not scream. “There are no easy solutions for us. For work. For life. I don’t think there are any solutions at all.”
“There’s an answer. There’s always an answer.”
“Stop.” Desperation filled her “I don’t want this. I don’t want you to be reasonable and rational. I want you to fuck my brains out, so I don’t have to think about what’s going on for a few minutes.”
“Has it worked so far?”
“Temporarily.”
“Is it what you really want?”
“Yes.” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed to try and clear out the raw ache in her throat. “Or are you going to tell me you know better, the way you always do with Riley?”
“No.” He rested his hand on the back of her neck, palm brushing her cheekbone. “I’m here for you. I’ll do what you want, because honestly, I don’t have enough strength to tell you no another time.”
She pressed against him, fisted her fingers in his hair, and yanked his mouth to hers. She poured all her frustration, her need, and her every last exposed nerve into the kiss. He growled and drew her closer, pressing his frame against her.
She felt wetness on her cheeks, and she broke away with a sob she couldn’t stop. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep her body from shaking, but it didn’t work.
“Fuck.” A larger, stronger pair of arms circled her, and Archer drew her in.
She buried her head against his chest, unable to control the wails wrenching from deep inside. She didn’t know what she was going to do. About him. About work. About any of it. God damn it—when did life get so complicated? And why couldn’t she stop crying?
He moved his lips against the top of her head, murmuring sounds that didn’t mean anything, but soothed her anyway. As her sobs slowed, he led her back to the couch. He dropped ono the center cushion and tugged her in his lap.
She curled up, listening to his heart and letting the steady rhythm calm her. Neither of them spoke for a while, even after she brought her outburst under control.
“I’ll only ask one more time, I promise. Do you want to talk about it?” he asked
She did. So very much. She wanted to spill her guts and tell him how much work sucked and how much she wished she’d never let Brad talk her into taking that stupid job, and how much she was falling for Archer. She winced mentally as soon as the last thought crossed her mind. This was bad. She couldn’t do this. Archer was off limits. He would break her heart, because regardless of his apology, he still had issues with Riley.
She managed to say, “I do, but not tonight.”
“I’m here when you’re ready.” He trailed his fingers through her hair and pressed his lips to her forehead.
She pushed closer, wanting to lose herself in him. If she couldn’t have him for good, she was going to enjoy him while he was here. “You don’t have to go home, do you?”
“I don’t have to be anywhere but here.”
* * * *
Tori snuggled into the strong body behind her, pulling Archer’s arm tighter. She’d slept better last night than in ages. They watched the worst movies, and somewhere around midnight or one, they’d lost their jeans and climbed into bed. As far as she remembered, she fell asleep the moment he wrapped himself around her.
Too bad she had to face reality. She forced her eyes open and scowled when she saw what time it was. “Damn it,” she muttered.
“How do you have a damn it before eight in the morning?” He rested his chin on her shoulder.
She smiled and leaned her cheek against his. Now her head was clearer, life didn’t seem quite as bleak, but she wasn’t looking forward to what came next. “I have a conference call with Candace and HR in thirty minutes.”
“Do you have breakfast ingredients in the house?” He trailed his fingers lightly along her hip, up the elastic of her panties, and back down her hip.
“Probably. I can make oatmeal.”
“Get ready for your call. I’ll make food.”
She couldn’t let him do that; it was too tempting, too comfortable, too much something she wanted to get used to. Still, she couldn’t force herself to turn him down. “If you’re sure.”
“Positive.”
Disappointment trickled in as cool air met her now-exposed back, but it was tempered when he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a sitting position. “Get dressed, bring your phone into the kitchen for your call, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
“All right.” She had to bite her tongue, to keep from asking if he wanted to join her in the shower. There was no way she was embarrassing herself like she had last night. Besides, she didn’t have enough time.
She showered quickly, dressed, and ran a brush through her hair, before pulling it back in a ponytail. The familiar smells of Archer’s cooking greeted her, as she stepped into the living room, and she closed her eyes.
He slid a plate across the table. Pancakes. Except, she didn’t have any pancake mix in the house. He’d made it from scratch?
And then she saw the time, and her enjoyment scurried to someplace unknown, replaced with a sick clawing in the bottom of her stomach.
“I’m sorry.” She slipped in her ear piece and waited for the phone to ring. She really didn’t want to take this call.
“Do what you have to. I’ll stick around until you’re done.”
She picked at her food, torn between enjoying it and the growing uneasiness in her gut. She dialed into the conference number, and the robotic voice told her she was the second person on the line. She and Michelle from HR made small talk for a few moments. How were Michelle’s kids? Was Tori looking forward to the company picnic this weekend?
Damn. Tori forgot about that, and she’d never hear the end of
it from Brad if she skipped out.
The clock hit eight thirty and then rolled past it. It figured; Candace was late.
Tori jumped when the line chimed a few minutes later, indicating a third party had joined the call. She shot Archer another look, and he smiled in return. She steeled herself and answered the phone.
“Hi, Candace. This is Michelle in HR.”
“Hi, Michelle.”
Tori swallowed again. She could do this.
“I have Tori on the line with us today. Do you mind if I explain what this call is about, to make sure we’re all on the same page?”
Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad. Michelle was a great arbitrator. This call was her idea, when Tori talked to her about Candace’s complaint. A way to get both sides of the story, and ultimately decide how to handle Candace, in a neutral forum.
“That’s fine.” Candace’s tone was snipped.
“I read your complaint that you feel harassed, and I take that seriously. From a management perspective, Tori explained to me there are certain issues with some of your work and behavior,” Michelle said. “This call is a chance for you to explain to me your side of the story, so I can make sure everyone is treated fairly. Does that make sense?”
Tori liked this letting-Michelle-do-the-talking thing.
“Yes,” Candace said.
“So in your own words, explain to me why you belittled a member of executive management, in front of the entire senior staff.”
Tori’s confidence in the smooth nature of the call fled. That didn’t sound like a nonjudgmental question. Brad had interfered.
“That wasn’t my intention.” Candace sounded as calm and removed as always. “I was frustrated, because I didn’t feel Tori was hearing what I had to say.”
“Mhmm.” Michelle paused. “I apologize if there are stretches of silence. I want to write this all down, to make sure I get it accurate.”
Archer caught her attention, his brows knitted together, corners of his mouth tugged down.
Graphically Novel (Love Hashtagged #3) Page 9
