by Gabi Moore
I turned the ignition, pulled off and merged with the traffic, my mind numb. The day was sunny and innocent, but I couldn’t shake the dark cloud over my head. If I didn’t find work soon I’d be in real trouble. I didn’t have the resources to carry on like this. I didn’t have the energy.
By the time I pulled into our complex road my interview skirt suit was crumpled and a little sweaty. My shoes pinched. My eyes felt puffy. I had no thought in my mind but to get inside, eat something huge and unhealthy and then crawl into bed and binge watch something until this lump in my throat went away.
I parked, and a large box on my doorstep caught my eye. I wasn’t expecting a parcel. I locked the car and went to look at it. At first I was sure it was a mistake – there was no name or address on it or anything. But then my heart skipped a beat when I saw what it was: a box of 48 tubes of scar cream. I laughed out loud.
I looked over my shoulder, tucked it under my arm and hurried inside, feeling the beginnings of a blush coming on. It had to be from him. I turned the box over and over on my lap, not quite sure what clues I was expecting to find. Max. Where did he even find this much of the stuff? It was hilariously over the top, but I couldn’t help wonder: what did all of this mean?
I raced to my laptop and tapped furiously to take down the two reviews and then stared at the empty space left on the screen. The gift could have been a mild threat. It could have been nothing more than him making a point to get what he wanted. But a small part of me hoped it was because, in a weird way, he cared. In any case, struggling with money myself made me feel less inclined to jeopardize the work of some guy who probably wasn’t that bad after all.
The incident that morning felt like it was rapidly fading. I made myself a cup of coffee and tried to think. He was some He-man stereotype trying to make it in the civilian world and, frankly, not doing that good of a job. I was an unemployed marketing consultant who precisely fit his demographic. Why hadn’t I seen it before?
I quickly changed my pinchy shoes, ruffled my hair loose and reapplied a layer of gloss. Then I walked over to his apartment, hoping to heaven he was home. My insides were pure jelly as I stood there on his doorstep, the doorbell echoing inside, but I tried to keep my cool. When he opened the door, he was shirtless. It was all I could focus on for a split second. There was just so much of him. Every surface of his body was firm and sculpted; he would have looked like an anatomical drawing of the human muscular system were it not for his velvety tan skin.
“Max, hi,” I said awkwardly.
He didn’t seem surprised to see me.
“I took them down. The reviews. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I was being so awful about that…”
“Thank you.”
My mind raced. I didn’t want that to be it. Why wasn’t he letting me in?
“I got your gift,” I said. I found myself facing the same problem I always did with him: I didn’t know where to put my eyes.
“It wasn’t a gift,” he said and dragged his gaze over my skirt suit. “It was just something you needed. I hope it’s enough.”
“For the scars I have? Oh there’s not enough in the world for that,” I said and laughed, but when he didn’t laugh I realized how sad my attempt at humor must have sounded.
He silently stepped aside to let me in and I was immediately faced with a living room very much like my own. It felt pointless to dive into small talk, and soon we had both stayed so quiet that the moment for chit-chat had passed. I sat down on his sofa – so much nicer than my own! – and clasped my hands tight to stop them from shaking too obviously. To my surprise he sat down right beside me, nothing but a few inches of air between us. I was doing my best to stay calm but all I could think about was the fact that he had once been interested enough to ask me out. That and the fact that I’d already seen him naked.
“I …have a proposition for you,” I said slowly. I had his interest. “Those reviews weren’t fair. But they weren’t completely inaccurate. If you haven’t had a problem yet with those classes, you soon will.”
“Class attendance has dropped by two thirds,” he said plainly.
“Uh, yeah. I’m sure I didn’t help the situation.”
“I hope you haven’t come over to yell at me some more?”
Our eyes locked and I felt a wave of regret for ever letting him see what an awful bitch I become sometimes.
“No, no yelling,” I said. “I want to help you.” All my focus went onto that inch of space between us, now electrified somehow. He was so close to touching me.
“I can help you market your business properly. You’re obviously an expert, but you’re not promoting yourself at all. You have no social media presence, no ads, nothing.” I looked down at his immense hands folded gently in his lap. I tried to imagine him on the job. I had never gotten the whole ‘men in uniform’ thing until that moment.
“That’s what I do for a living. I’m… between jobs right now and I could do that for you. I could make sure you’re reaching the women you need to, advertising to them in exactly the right way, getting your classes out there…”
It was so silent I thought I could hear my own heartbeat.
“Kate?”
“Yeah?”
“How did you get those wounds on your shoulder?”
I didn’t want to talk about that. I didn’t want to be the poor messed up girl with a history of domestic violence. I didn’t want him to look at me like that, to pity me. I wanted him to see me as I saw him: strong.
“My ex. We’re separated.”
I don’t think I’d ever before been this close to abs that looked like they belonged on a bodybuilding magazine cover. It was wildly distracting. “I have a restraining order against him but… well, that’s basically worthless in this state. I moved to get away from him. I left my job. He uh… he was very violent. But he hid it. Everyone thought he was this saint, this perfect guy. But when we were alone he’d just turn into something else. I know that human beings can do horrible things to each other but him… I don’t know, most of the time it was like he wasn’t even human… I’m sorry this must sound crazy.”
“It doesn’t. I know exactly what you mean.”
All at once a desperate ache thumped between my legs. I couldn’t stop my body – it was as though there were strange electrical pathways running through my body that were voice-activated. And his voice was just the right blend of leathery and husky that it suddenly didn’t seem to matter that we weren’t touching at all.
“That’s why I wanted to offer these classes, Kate. Because I wanted to teach people that they don’t have to be victims to that. That no matter how evil others are, you can always take action, you can always defend yourself.”
“Oh, god, I’ve been really mean to you, haven’t I?”
He laughed.
“Didn’t I tell you I’m a retired SEAL? You’d have to be a lot worse to scare me off,” he said. And there was the ache again.
“I can help you, though. Let me make it up to you. You have lots to offer and I can help you reach the women you want to reach.”
“I don’t need any charity.”
“It won’t be charity. Just something you need,” I said and again caught his eyes. It was easier this time, to hold his gaze.
“You could hire me for a while, see how it goes—”
His lips were on mine in an instant.
I squeezed my eyes shut and the world spun around me. All at once his hard body was pressing firm against mine, and his shoulder was bearing down into mine, and his gorgeous sweet lips folded softly into mine and lingered there, as though we needed a moment to taste the decision we’d both made. He was a hard man. His hands were hard and his forearms were hard and his legs were hard and every part of him was solid as rock. And yet… when he parted his lips against mine, his tongue was so unbelievably soft it was like we melted there together, like a tiny window of tenderness had been opened and all this sweetness was now rushing through it.
His
hand came to my knee and held me there, and he leaned in for a delicate, careful kiss. I yielded and kissed back slowly, feeling all the anxiety melt from my body. I felt so calm and safe in that kiss, even though it was over too quickly, and he was soon pulling back to look at me, stroking away my hair with the back of his fingers. His eyes were full of delicious questions. When he leaned back in again, he collapsed on top of me and pressed me firmly into the sofa with the slightest effort of his powerful body. I winced and cried out. He pulled back and looked at me with panic on his face.
“Sorry, my… it’s my,” I said and gestured to the ugly looking scabs and welts snaking all down my shoulder. It was the most searing pain to have them squashed into the sofa. Without skipping a beat, he grabbed me, spun me around and examined the skin there, and when his fingers slid under the strap of my blouse and slid it off, I could find nothing in me that wanted to stop him.
“You need some vitamin E oil. I could rub it in for you,” he said playfully as he traced fingers as light as spider webs over my bruises and cuts. I wriggled out of his grasp and slid the blouse back on.
“No way, that’s a gross job, and I don’t care if you’re a marine or whatever,” I said laughing. But it was another semi-joke that fell flat. His other hand remained on my knee, and sweet Jesus was it the best feeling in the world. He came close again and parted his lips for another kiss but I turned my head and smiled awkwardly.
“Hey... have I… I hope I haven’t embarrassed you or something?” he said.
I waved him off and tried to regain my composure. I tried to force myself to stop thinking about that lump in his pants I was almost sure I felt a split second ago.
“No, not embarrassed, it’s just…” he pinned me with his eyes again. I couldn’t believe it. Here was this perfect specimen of a man basically in my lap and he wanted to kiss me and dear lord if he didn’t stop staring at me like that I didn’t know what I would do.
“It’s just that… I’m not really ready for any of …this yet,” I said and held my hands up between us. He looked confused but backed away a little.
I wanted to throw him back on this sofa and ride that cock of his until I passed out. I wanted the full weight of that fucking gorgeous body on top of me and I wanted both of those strong arms to hold me down and fuck me till I couldn’t take any more.
“I’m still trying to get on my feet, you know. To get my head clear,” I said, now suddenly aware that I was soaking wet. He nodded slowly but looked upset.
“Sure, yeah, I understand. I just …what can I do to help you out?” he said, and glanced at my shoulder. I hated that. I didn’t want to be anyone’s damsel.
“Hire me,” I said quickly. “If you want to help me, let me help you. I know what I’m doing. And it would make me feel better about those reviews,” I said and smiled at him. This time he smiled back at me.
“So that’s still a no from you, huh?” he said, and reluctantly took his hand off my knee.
“For a date? Yeah. It’s a no.”
“But you want to work for me? And do some marketing for the business?”
“That’s a yes,” I said and held my breath.
He thought for a moment and then smiled sadly, but held out his hand for me to shake it.
“Ok, then consider yourself hired.” His body language was suddenly more professional, but his eyes hadn’t lost that secret, delicious depth they had a moment ago, his sweet lips against mine and eyes locked so it felt like kissing him double. I shook his hand and then smoothed out the top of my skirt.
“Before I go,” I said, and stood to leave. “I have a confession to make.”
He remained sprawled on the sofa and looked up at me. His body had a magnetic pull to it, and I imagined myself falling into his lap for more, but I stopped myself.
“I can see into your living room from outside,” I said and gestured to the large window. It was on this very sofa that I had first seen him and his …body. His face suddenly went pale.
“You should close the curtains,” I said and tried to suppress a smile. His eyes went wide but I was already on my way to the front door. I let myself out and raced back to my apartment, a mixture of relief and fear and excitement washing over me as I slammed the door behind me and crumpled down to the floor, back against the door.
He was amazing.
Scarily amazing.
I could still taste him and it was though the ghost of his hand was still on my knee. It was certainly the weirdest job interview I’d had that day, and that was saying something.
Chapter 11 - Max
They say opposites attract. And there wasn’t anyone I had ever met who was more different from me than Kate. The moment she would walk into my gym it was like watching an alien step foot on another planet. Our agreement was that she would put a good face on the business, put the word out there and deal with all that painful social media crap she kept trying to tell me was important. And in return she’d get a monthly salary for a total of four months, plus free classes whenever she wanted and full access to the gym.
It made me feel a little uncomfortable at first, but she seemed happy about it. While I was still trying to figure out whether she was doing me a favor or I was doing her one, she was already getting stuck into things and despite my hesitations, I had to admit that after six weeks she had made some impressive changes.
Changes we’d talk about in a few minutes when she arrived for our weekly meeting. Hell, I had no idea if the way we were doing things was normal or not, I’d never hired a graphic designer or a marketing expert or a social media …whatever. But it felt good, having her in my life all of a sudden. It felt good, in a way, to not be the expert for a change. I surprised myself by actually giving up control for once and letting her be in charge. And now, without me noticing when exactly it happened, my routine felt like it was taking shape …around her. Saturday mornings were like the bright hinge on which the rest of the week moved, and so help me god I waited like a schoolboy in those moments leading up to each meeting.
She didn’t want to date. I understood that. Jesus, if there’s a person in the world who understood what trauma and violence did to your brain, it was me. But it turned out I didn’t even need to ‘date’ her. It was strangely soothing just to chat with her about website banners or the color scheme for the locker rooms. It was like dating but without any of the scary parts.
I did my rounds in the gym and opened up all the windows – long, narrow ones from when this spot used to be a cigarette factory – and switched on all the lights. I set the sound system up, booted up our new log in system and gave the place a once over to check nothing was out of place. I stared for a moment at the still-boxed vending machine Kate had insisted we install in the women’s washrooms. It was quite the gadget. It came pre-loaded with tampons and hand cream and mini cans of deodorant you could get for a dollar. It was the kind of thing I would never in a million years have thought to set up. Not before Kate.
“Morning boss.”
I spun around to see her walk through the main entrance. It was obscene, what those two words did to me. It was our little in-joke, for her to call me ‘boss’. I always laughed and waved it off, but damn. She strode over to me, an oversized leather attaché case on her shoulder and fixed up so pretty it was like she’d gotten lost on her way to her job at the hedge fund.
“Ooh, I see our machine has arrived!” she said and knelt to look at the box. My brain stuck on that word. ‘Our’.
“Yeah, it’s got everything a fierce modern woman needs… apparently,” I said, shrugging. She laughed.
“Yeah yeah, I know, but I’m sure a big gruff military man like yourself can excuse a little female vanity.”
I angled my head and read the printing on the side of the box.
“Excuse it? Oh, I heartily approve. I’m not sure who the weaker sex is, but it’s pretty obvious who the better looking one is,” I said, and smiled as we walked to the upstairs office.
“You don’t k
now who the weaker sex is?” she asked teasingly as we scaled the steps. God, she looked amazing. Like someone had poured her into that little suit of hers. Like she was a ballerina in a boardroom. I laughed and opened the door.
“Oh, of course I know. That’s obvious.”
We settled down at the table.
“Who?”
“I told you, it’s obvious” I said and gave her a cheeky wink.
She nodded and smiled to herself.
“Very funny, I can see you’ve been taking my advice on some things at least, huh?’
“Yes ma’am. You’re my inside connection. Target requires hand soap, harmonious colors and appropriate temperature levels in the facility.”
She was giggling as she slipped some documents from her bag and spread them on the table.
“Not target, dummy, target audience.”
“Ma’am, yes ma’am. Mission is on course. I know our brief. Appeal specifically to women without ever actually looking like we’re appealing specifically to women.” She gave me a mock-salute and smiled.
“That’s about right, soldier. Um, at ease, or whatever.”
She was so pretty when she smiled. Her face didn’t glow, it sparkled. When she was happy like this and we were not-flirting she was like the human equivalent of a golden glass of champagne. A foreign creature to me: the makeup, the perfume, the little shoes and the baubles on her wrist. It was all the kind of thing I thought I hated… until Kate.
“So, I’ve been talking with that designer and this is the final logo, with that little change we added to the font, see?” she said, and thrust a document under my nose.
“Looks great.”
“Have you had some time to change up the class structure?”
“Of course. More time on warm up, just like you suggested. You’ll see. You are coming today, aren’t you?”
She nodded and smiled.
