"Do you know when your driver will be here? I could have been home by now."
He stopped scrolling long enough to glance up at me. "He's downstairs."
"How long has he been downstairs?"
"He's always downstairs. He's where ever I am."
I shot up from the chair. "Are you fucking kidding me? I've been sitting here for no reason."
He stood up and slid his phone into his pocket. "I was letting you be."
"What?"
"You said to let you be."
"Are you fucking kidding me, Ryder?"
He moved past me to open the door. "He's downstairs. I'll see you in the morning."
I was so angry, and I didn’t know what else to say. I needed to leave—no—I needed to quit. He was just playing a cat and mouse game with me, just like he used to back then, and I wasn't going to participate since I was the only one who ever lost.
Stopping in front of him, I turned to look him straight in the eye. "How dare you treat me like I'm still that love-struck girl."
His eyes trailed down to my lips.
"I quit. I can't do this with you again."
Gripping tightly onto my purse, I turned to leave. I almost made it out the door when I felt a hard tug on my wrist.
"Don't go."
His words made the butterflies in my stomach flutter wildly, but reality kicked in, suppressing my girlish desires. I bit my lip to hold back an entire year of tears beginning to prick the back of eyes.
"Stop," I breathed, in passive defense.
His grip on my wrist tightened as he pulled me closer, his bottom lip trailing up the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
"Don't go," he exhaled.
I eked out another pained, "I'm not her anymore, and I can't do this. It's too much, and I hadn’t thought it through."
I wanted nothing more than to stay. I loved him with every fiber of my being—I'd always loved him, but I needed a job, and who knew if he would just toss me away like he'd done with every other woman—like he'd done with me.
"So that's it? You're just quitting? Just like that?"
My voice tightened. "Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Almost like when you moved out and left me that fucking note."
His fingers loosened as he backed away. I couldn’t even look at him for fear I would change my mind. I continued into the hallway where the door closed gently behind me.
Anxiety kept me from breathing—my lungs tightening with each passing second. I was stuck, regretting my decision to leave—fuck, regretting my decision to take the job in the first place. Regretting everything about how our relationship had transpired.
I should've just stayed my ass in my bed.
RYDER
I didn’t want to let go of the doorknob. I wanted to pull it open and yank her back in. Everything about her called to me, and for once, I wanted to give in and do what I should've done a year ago.
Fuck! Exactly what I was trying to avoid.
I fucking knew how much I wanted her back then, and it's probably what scared me into leaving her. Regan told me, but I didn’t want to see. Relationships hurt. Relationships were a recipe for disaster. It's all I'd ever experienced in life, and I didn’t want that kind of hurt for her. I should've stayed. I should've done a lot of fucking things, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty—isn't it?
I did it for her, really. My grandpa was a philandering bastard, and he passed the gene onto my mother, who cheated on my dad while he was away on business trips, trying his best to provide for us. Catching her in bed with another man, one day after school, she'd asked me to keep her secret. Guilting me. A kid. Saying I'd be the one to break up our family if I told my father. So I kept my mouth shut. That time, and every time after.
But I realized something. It had to be genetic. After all, she was my grandfather's daughter, and I was a product of two generations of cheaters, so I must be a cheater, too—right? Or at least a man who wasn't able to make any sort of real commitment, and I wasn’t going to unleash my family's curse on her. Not, Hannah. Not the only woman I'd ever had something real with.
How was I supposed to see her every day, when all I wanted to do was touch her in all the places I could get sued for by being her boss?
Mental note. No Christmas bonus for Summer.
I pulled out my phone, wanting to text her something charismatic—something that would impress her back to my door, but I had nothing. Shit—I had nothing. I could charm a plethora of women like nobody's business, but I didn’t know how to bring Hannah back to me.
Summer.
Summer would be able to bring her back. Quickly, I dialed her number, impatiently waiting for her to answer. The phone rang once, then twice.
Fuck. Why isn’t she answering?
Finally the ringing stopped, replaced with a tired voice that somewhat resembled Summer's. "Hello."
"I need you to get her back."
"Get who back?"
"You know who."
"What the fuck did you do now?"
"Hey!"
"Fuck that. It's late, and you want me to track down the only woman in the city that was actually willing to work for you and beg her to come back!"
"You're Summer. Can't you do it?"
"Of course I can do it, but I'm pissed I have to. Keep your fucking attitude in check with this one, because I'm not doing this again."
From the background, I could hear a man's voice ask, "Who is it?"
"It's him."
"What did he do now?" the man asked.
"The usual," she replied.
"Oh, good luck with that," he groaned.
"Who was that?"
"My husband. I'm home. On my time."
"Just do what you have to."
"I won't do it again, Ryder. I won't. She's a nice girl."
"Don't you think I know that?" I growled.
"Do you?"
I clicked on the red button to end the call and set my phone on the counter. I turned off the lights and headed to bed, hoping to get her off my mind.
Chapter Six
HANNAH
My phone rang, and I pulled it from my purse ready to send Ryder to voicemail.
Fuck.
It was Summer, and I at least owed her an explanation. Obviously, Ryder had already called her. I knew how he worked. He was a Casanova, and I was sure he'd either charmed or forced her to call me.
I held the phone to my ear. "Hello."
"It's me, Summer."
"I know," I sassed a bit. I didn't work with her anymore, and I wasn’t too thrilled with the reason she was calling.
"You can't quit," she said matter of factly.
"I can do what I want. He thinks he can treat me any which way—fuck that—fuck him."
"Then do it for me? I can't do both jobs. You saw what that looked like, and I'll totally owe you."
"Intriguing." The thought of someone like Summer owing me. "Intriguing," I repeated. "Anything I want?"
"Well, I don’t have millions, but within reason."
I thought about it for a moment, then realized that whether or not I said no to Summer—rent, gas and electric, water, and my cell phone bill would all be due soon, and none of them would care about my fragile sensibilities. So I decided to take her sweetened offer, but I didn’t want her to know I was doing it only out of desperation.
"Okay, I'll do it, but only because I don’t wanna leave you hanging. As for anyone else, who shall remain nameless—"
"I get it, girl. I get it. So, tomorrow?"
"Okay, I'll be there."
"Oh, thank God!"
I giggled. "Okay, well I have to get home, and pass out. I'm exhausted."
"Yeah, working for Ryder isn't for the faint of heart."
"You just said a mouthful."
"Alright, Hun," she said, clicking off the line.
I watched as the green screen on my phone turned orange, signaling our disconnection. Sliding it into my pocket, I decided I would walk home.
Even though I was dead dog tired, I didn’t want anything from Ryder—not even a badly needed ride.
RYDER
I tossed and turned as the moonlight stretched across my room, finally hitting the wall adjacent to my bedroom window. The sounds of the city doubled as background music to the unsettled feeling brewing in my stomach.
I'd gone too far, and it was excruciating not to know whether or not Summer had gotten Hannah to come back. I probably should've called. She knew she was on the clock twenty-four hours a day, but I'd already bothered her enough for the evening, and I didn't want to disrespect her husband by calling again. So I lay there and waited for the hours to tick by. God, how slowly they ticked by.
This would've never happened if I'd just been a man and told Hannah to her face I was leaving, but how could I tell a face so perfect that I couldn't be the man she needed me to be. That I wouldn't fight my own demons for her—that truly and honestly, I didn’t deserve her love. I didn’t deserve anyone's love—not if they really saw me for who I was and where I came from.
Thousand dollar suits, and Cayman Island bank accounts were just a façade. Hannah knew me, though. The Monday night, kick off my shoes and have a beer, me. The Tuesday night, lie on the couch and eat a bag of popcorn while watching some rerun of the Diesel Brothers, me.
Fuck, I miss her.
I rolled over and closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep. I needed some fucking sleep.
HANNAH
6:27 am
…
Annoyance was not the only thing I woke up with. Soreness. Soreness and more soreness. My feet ached, and my legs felt like noodles from the cross-town journeys I'd taken the day before. I wasn’t used to that much physical exertion, and my body wasn't afraid to let me know it.
Groaning, I kicked each leg off the bed, needing to hurry before I was late in getting to the first task on my list. Even though I knew Summer needed me to stay on the job so she wouldn't have to do the extra work, and the balance of power had shifted slightly in my favor, I still wanted to be a good employee and not take advantage of the situation.
But I had to admit, if he were waiting for a chance to let me go, last night would've been the perfect opportunity. Maybe he was just as confused as I was? The whole goddam thing was confusing as hell. I was working for a drop dead gorgeous specimen of a man, whom I'd wanted to sleep with since only God knows when, and now I was stuck running his damn errands. It probably wasn’t any easier for him—I guess.
I hopped in and out of the shower with only a few minutes to spare before I had to walk out the door. I decided to take a few minutes and throw on some makeup. Summer looked so put together; there was no reason I should go to work looking like a shmuck.
A few wisps of mascara and a quick swipe of lip gloss and I was off to my closet for a pair of black slacks and a pearl blouse Ryder had given me three Christmas' before. Lastly, I slid on a pair of black ballerina slippers to polish off the look before grabbing my purse and heading out the door.
I felt confident in my outfit, and my ability not to get fired before lunch. Heading down the hall, the familiar ding of the elevator door opening kicked my feet into high gear. Running down the hall, clutching tightly onto my purse, I slid through the closing elevator doors just in the nick of time.
The woman inside kept her eyes fixed on the floor as I made my way to the corner. She obviously wasn’t into exchanging any smiles or morning niceties, so I shifted my gaze to the door and sealed my mouth shut. It had to be the longest ten seconds of my life.
I shot out through the door the moment it dinged open. There was just something about her that creeped me out. Walking briskly to the coffee shop where I'd run into Summer the day before, I pulled out my list and company credit card so I could quickly order and pay for Ryder's coffee. Luckily, while digging in my purse, I felt my phone vibrate. I'd forgotten to turn the volume up so I would've missed the text from Summer. Apparently, Ryder had decided against sleeping at his apartment, and I had about twenty minutes to get to his place out in the suburbs.
Fuck.
I needed to hurry if I wanted to get there a couple of minutes early to show how serious I was about keeping the job. He wasn't going to scare me away again, by acting like a dick. I could handle him and his attitude.
Finally, I found myself at the front of the line with an annoyed, acne-ridden eighteen-year-old staring at me for an order.
"Yes, I'd like—" I unfolded the paper which I probably should've opened beforehand, "—I'd like a—shit, it doesn't say."
"I don’t think we carry that."
"Umm—just give me a coffee with creamer."
"What size?"
"Large."
"You know creamer goes right to your hips," a woman scolded from behind.
I didn’t reply to her.
"A large please," I repeated loudly.
"Straight to those hips," the woman echoed.
I twisted around to see who the hell was sticking their nose in my business. I was shocked to realize it was the woman from the elevator. She must've been standing behind me the entire time I was in line.
What a creepy bitch!
"Excuse me?" I asked with a growl in the back of my throat.
"I said the creamer would go straight to your hips. You're never gonna catch a man like that."
I was horrified. I didn’t know what to say, but I sure as hell was going to give her a piece of my mind. My lips parted, but before I could put her in her place, I felt a warm arm lay across the back of my neck.
"She doesn’t need to catch a man," the confident voice retorted.
I looked to my left and realized it was Regan.
The woman's eyes widened when she took in the ever-so-handsome, college professor.
"Regan, what are you doing here?"
"Ma'am, it's going to be $4.23," the barista said from behind, startling me.
"Oh, I'm so sorry." I turned around and handed her the credit card which she promptly returned after a quick swipe through the machine.
I moved out of line to wait for my coffee, and Regan followed. "What are you doing here?"
He chuckled. "Coffee."
"But you didn’t order any."
He looked back at the long line which had already begun to trickle out the door. "I'll get back in line. No worries."
"It'll be lunch by then."
He shook his head. "They do have the best coffee."
"They really do," I agreed, stuffing the card back into my purse.
"Where are you off to today?"
Taking a deep breath of courage, I blurted out, "I'm on my way to bring Ryder coffee."
"Oh, that's right. He said you were working for him now."
"You talked about me?"
"Talked—ranted. It was all so vague." He winked as he flashed me his winning smile.
"I didn’t know he was going to be—"
"You don’t need to explain things. I'm glad you're back in his life. We both know he is better with you than without. Kinda like how it is with Cher."
"Cher?"
"My fiancée."
"Fiancée?"
"It was a kinda whirlwind romance. I must admit, I was smitten from the moment I saw her."
I sighed. "Wow. Men like you really do exist."
"Did you think otherwise?"
"Well, Ryder is a prime example of the polar opposite."
He shook his head. "I don’t think so. He just doesn’t know what he has."
"What he has?"
"In you, of course."
"No, we aren't—"
"Listen, I've known you two a long time. You don’t need to pretend around me."
His accusation angered me. I wasn't pretending. Ryder was an asshole, and Regan knew it. "Why are you defending him?"
"I'm not. I'm just saying I've known you two a long time."
"I know what you're trying to say, and he was the asshole that—" I paused when I realized my voice had gotten too loud for our littl
e bubble, and a few eyes began to shift over into our direction.
"Plain coffee and creamer," the woman from the counter called, holding Ryder's coffee in the air.
I raised my hand to get her attention. "That's me."
"Well, I'll let you get to Ryder. It was really nice seeing you. I've really missed you. Hopefully, I can get you and Ryder in the same room to watch me get married."
A giddy smile washed over my face as the school girl in me took over. "Oh, my God, a wedding?"
"Coffee and creamer!" the woman shouted loudly, staring right at me.
My shoulders slumped. "Dammit. Ok. Call me. My number is the same."
"Are you gonna answer?"
I slapped my palms onto his cheeks and stared straight into his big brown eyes. I needed him to know I was serious. I hadn’t been a good friend since Ryder left, basically ditching that whole life, so I didn’t have to deal with anything that reminded me of him. Unfortunately, that also included Regan. It was unfair of me to lump him into the mess Ryder had created, but what's done was done, and I couldn’t turn back time. All I could do was move forward and do my best to be a better friend.
"Look into my eyes."
"I'm looking."
"Yes! I'm going to answer your phone calls from now on."
"Coffee!" the woman hollered. "Creamer!"
Shifting my gaze over to her, I yelled back, "I frickin' heard you, dammit."
The woman set the coffee down on the counter and walked away.
"You are on a roll today," Regan teased.
My hands dropped to my sides. "Shit. I have to go. Ryder is looking for a reason to fire me."
He backed away, heading toward the end of the line. "Okay, but don't forget about my wedding. You already said you were coming."
"I'm coming. Just gimmie some notice so I can tell my boss," I said, seizing the cup off the counter before hurrying to the door.
He shot me a wink. "Don't worry about it. I got Ryder."
"No one has Ryder," I said under my breath as I waved down a passing cab.
Tempt Me: A Second Chance Billionaire Romance (Me Series Book 2) Page 4
