by Kayt Miller
“Why?”
She shrugs, “Hell if I know. They always chose someone below me. Usually a man and someone I trained. Miriam always hinted that it was Drake’s decision. She seemed to feel bad about it but.” She shrugs again. “What’re you gonna do?”
“Sue.”
“Really? Wouldn’t that have made things awkward at work?” She laughs but there’s no humor in it.
“Is there anything else about Miriam that stands out? Something about her that doesn’t make sense?”
She stops eating and looks at me. “Well…”
I move closer to her. I know she’s going to give me something good.
“She never knew anything.”
“Meaning?”
“About Human Resources. She never knew the answer. Whenever I’d asked her something about a company policy, insurance, or even about advancement training, she never knew the answer.”
“I can see why that’d be something that would stand out.”
“Yeah, even general staff training she pushed off on Trent. He used to complain about the fact that all she did was sit in her office and play games on her phone.”
“So, she’s lazy?”
“That’s not what I’m talking about but, yeah, she’s probably lazy too. I just don’t think she knows anything about Human Resources. She used to tell me and Camille that she’d have to get back to us whenever we asked her something, pretending she was busy doing something more important.”
Agatha takes a very aggressive bite out of her bagel. Not waiting to chew and swallow, she adds, “It’s booship. See sood know it.” Her brows are furrowed into the most adorable frown. I want to kiss those crinkled lines on her forehead but I’d better not.
To clarify, I repeat what I think she said, “It’s bullshit? She should know it?”
“Myeah.”
“She should know it. You’re right.” Ah hell, I do it. I kiss her on her frown lines. “I’ll do some more digging on Miriam. You ready to talk about Drake?”
The scowl on her face intensifies. “Om eating.” She chews. “Gib me a thec”
“Right. Give you a sec.”
“Myeah.”
So, I do. We both finish our bagels. I want another one, but I’ll wait until she’s finished giving me her thoughts on Drake. My gut tells they aren’t going to be kind.
Chapter 25
Agatha
I need to get out of my house. I feel like a cloistered nun, hidden away from life, going on three weeks now. “You want to get out of here for a while?”
Ian’s sitting on one of my bar stools in only his boxers and Harry Potter tee. Sigh. I could get used to this.
“What’d you have in mind?”
“Have you been out to Lake Powell yet? If not, we could take a ride out there. It’s really beautiful.” What am I doing? I just asked him out. Gah, bad idea.
“Sure. We could have a picnic.”
OMG! A picnic? Yes! Be cool, Aggie. Be cool. Shrugging, I say, “Sure. Sounds fun.” More than fun. It sounds amazing. “Do you like egg salad? Because I make a mean egg salad.”
Ian approaches from behind. I feel his body against my back and his arm wrap around me. When his lips touch my neck, I tilt my head to give him room for more.
“I love egg salad.” He nibbles on my earlobe and my nipples harden. “And I really love that you want to make it for me.”
“Didn’t Catherine ever cook?” Shit, why did I ever mention Catherine’s name? I feel his body shaking. Oh no! I’ve upset him. I turn quickly, ready to apologize. “Ian I’m…” Wait. He’s laughing? “You’re laughing?”
“Yeah. That was funny shit. Did Catherine cook?” He kisses me between the eyes for the second time today. “Definitely not. She could barely microwave popcorn.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh. So, anything you feel like cooking, I’ll eat with a grin on my face, because I’ll appreciate it more than you’ll ever know, honey.” This time he kisses me lower, right smack dab on my lips.
It’s a quick kiss. I wish it was slow.
“Holy shit, Agatha. This is amazing,” Ian says, breathless.
I love Ian’s reaction to Lake Powell. It is one of those places everyone should see. It’s breathtaking especially from our perch way above the lake. We used to come here a lot when we were kids. When Mom first got sick, Dad would bring her here, just the two of them sometimes. It’s peaceful and exhilarating at the same time. It’s actually a reservoir that has carved a serpentine space around two peaks. Striations in the rock show its history—and the hundreds, maybe millions of years it took to create it.
“You like it, then?” Who wouldn’t like it? I just want to be sure.
“I had no idea there was a place like this here, honey.” Ian raises his arm, resting it around my shoulder. Pulling me into him, I lay my head on his shoulder. We stand there just like that for a good long while.
I think I get why this was Mom and Dad’s favorite place. It just might be mine now too.
Chapter 26
Ian
I’ve just finished my second egg salad sandwich, and I’m wishing for a third.
“Here,” Agatha says, holding out half of hers.
“No. That’s yours. You eat it.” I’m serious. She should eat it.
“You have no idea how happy I am you like my food. Eat it. I’ll fill up on chips and my apple.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
God, I love this woman. I reach out and freeze. I didn’t mean that. Really. I didn’t. “Thanks, Agatha.” Ignoring my stupid internal thoughts, I stuff my face. Time to eat my feelings. Problem solved.
After the food’s gone, we clean up our trash, and then settle back onto the blanket Agatha packed for us. “So. Tell me about Drake.”
“Ugh. No,” she whines. “I was having fun.”
I roll onto my side to look at her. Her hair is down and it’s fluttering around in a slight breeze. It looks shiny and soft. I know from personal experience that it’s as silky as it looks. Next, I take in her clothes. She’s wearing a plain navy tee with short sleeves and a V-neck that gives me a glimpse of the tops of her full breasts. She’s paired the shirt with denim cutoffs. I’ve been doing my goddamn best to keep my eyes above her waist when all I want to do is pull her down, so I can slide those little shorts right down her sexy as fuck legs. Forcing my eyes up, I see pink cheeks from the sun, or maybe they’re pink from thinking of the other fun things we could do. “Oh, yeah? So, what do you want to do instead?” My dick is hoping she wants some naughty fun.
“Anything but talk about Drake Gargoyle.”
“Anything?” I don’t give her a chance to overthink. I reach out, wrap my arm around her outstretched legs and pull her down next to me. “Oh, Agatha Palmer.” I kiss her on the corner mouth. She tastes like apple.
“What?”
“Nothing behind me...” I kiss her lips. “Everything ahead of me...” I kiss her furrowed brow then her lips again.
In a soft, emotional voice, she asks, “D-Did you just quote Jack Kerouac while we o-overlook Lake Powell?”
Oh shit, she’s starting to cry? What the fuck did I say? “Agatha?”
Shaking her head, she smiles as she wipes away the wetness. “No.” She grasps my hand. “This was one of my Mom’s favorite places and you just quoted her favorite book.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
“No. You misunderstand. What you just said… I’ll never forget it. I’ll never forget this day. I’ll never forget you, Ian Burke.”
“Jesus, Agatha.” I sit up, then pull myself up to standing, taking a few steps away from our picnic. When I turn to say what I need to say, she’s gone. I look toward my car and see her racing away in that direction. Fuck. “Agatha!” I shout.
I know she can hear me but she’s ignoring me. Go figure.
“Agatha!” I yell again as I run for her. “Goddammit, woman. Stop!”
C
hapter 27
Agatha
Stupid, stupid Agatha. You had to open your stupid mouth just then. I always make everything so awkward. So freaking awkward.
“Agatha!”
Ignore him. He’s going to smooth things over, but I’ll still feel like the biggest idiot that ever lived.
“Agatha!”
Keep walking.
“Goddammit, woman. Stop!”
I stop. Because I have to. I’m at the car and he’s got the keys. “Shit.” I set the blanket down. The one I whipped off the ground so fast, my picnic basket took a tumble. No worries. I can get another antique wicker basket like the one my grandmother used to use at every single Palmer family reunion since the beginning of time.
I look to my left, then my right. So far there’s no escape. Maybe if I start walking someone will be nice enough to pick me up. Oh, shit. What if the nice person ended up being a serial killer? I can see it now on the nightly news: Poor Agatha Palmer, embezzler, was picked up by the Lake Powell Perpetrator. Her body was never found.
“Goddammit, Agatha.” Ian is panting behind me. “Before you run off down the road, I need for you to hear what I was going to say back there.”
I know he’s pointing back to the picnic site. I hope my basket is still here.
“Would you please look at me?”
Oh, he sounds so sad. Serious but sad. Reluctantly, I turn.
“I was going to say that I hated to hear you talk about me like I’m already gone.”
“I…”
He presses his finger over my lips. “Let me finish, please.”
“Okay.”
“I like you.”
Eye roll.
“Don’t roll your pretty eyes at me, Agatha.” He chuckles. “I’ll never forget today either. Or last night, or this morning, or the night before that, or the night we fell asleep on the couch, or the lasagna we ate together sitting at your little counter. I won’t forget the night you wore that ugly wig and I still thought you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, and I definitely won’t ever forget the day we met, when you looked into my eyes with your pretty gray ones and told me you were innocent. That’s all it took, honey. I was fucking hooked right there on the street. I believed you and I knew right then and there that you were wronged and that’s the moment I made it my mission to find the real thief.”
I feel more tears slide down my cheeks.
He stares at me. “Shit, honey. Don’t cry again. I can’t take it when you cry.”
“Happy tears, Ian. Happy tears.”
“They’re tears. They’re all bad.”
I shake my head as I wrap my arms around his neck and press my cheek into his tee. “No, not all tears are bad. Some are happy, some are cathartic, some just pop up out of nowhere for no good reason.”
He continues his speech, “I don’t want you to put an expiration date on us. It’s too soon to determine what this is between us, but I want the time to do that. Do you?”
I nod because I’m really crying now. “I do.”
I feel him release a deep breath and hear him say, “Thank fuck.”
Chapter 28
Ian
“You want to know what I think of Drake?” Agatha asks with an arched brow.
We’re driving back from Lake Powell after a long talk and a short make out session. We have to get back because Agatha’s got another catering gig tonight.
“Yeah. I’d like to hear your keen observations.”
“Okay. Drake is a jerk.”
“I know. I hate working for the guy. He’s a tool.”
“I know.” She groans. “Pretty please, can we not talk about him?”
I’ll give her a pass for a little while. “So, where is this job tonight?”
“I shouldn’t tell you, but you’ll probably just follow me anyway.” She laughs. “It’s in north Flagstaff.”
“Again?”
“Yes, but Beth, the owner, said that this one is only about fifty people and it’s at some sort of club. It’s not supposed to run late.”
“Ah, I see. So, I’ll drive you down and wait for you.”
“No. You won’t. Go home. Get some rest. I’ll call you when I get home.”
I shake my head. She’s not going to give in on this.
“I promise you. If you want to try to make this thing work,” she points to both of us, “You need to know I’m independent. You can’t just follow me around because you’re a big-bad secret agent.”
“Uh, huh.”
“You’re going to follow me anyway, aren’t you?”
“Yep.” This is no time to let our guard down.
“Fine. Let’s save gas. You can drive me.”
“Great. Let’s grab something to eat on the way to Flagstaff.”
I hear her hum in agreement, but she’s quiet.
“Agatha, I don’t have to drive you down.”
“You’ll just follow me.”
This was true. I will follow her. “True.”
While Agatha showered and changed, I washed up our picnic dishes. After that, I drove us to my hotel, so I could clean up and change too. I’ve been staying in a one-bedroom suite in the nicest hotel in Page. Not that there were many to choose from since Page is relatively small. If it weren’t for Heart & Sole Shoes being headquartered here, there would be no hotels available at all.
The main part of the suite is outfitted with a small kitchenette and a living room with a sofa, chair, coffee table, and flat screen television mounted to the wall. The one and only window in the space looks out over the parking lot, but now that I’ve been there, I can see the rocks that lead to Lake Powell in the distance, so the view isn’t horrible.
I left Agatha sitting on my sofa while I headed into the bathroom, stripped down, turned on the shower, and stepped inside. I was doing my best to hurry but I kept picturing Agatha in her pencil skirt, white blouse, and flat shoes. Back at her place, she stepped out of her room wearing black slacks instead of the skirt when I made some kind of noise.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“No, tell me.” She looked worried.
“I like you in the skirt.”
“You do?” I think she was sincerely surprised by the comment.
“I do. You’ve got great legs, honey.”
“I do?”
I chuckled and stepped toward her. “You’re a sexy woman, Agatha.”
“I am?”
I laughed again, swatting her bottom. “We need to get going.”
“Let me change first.” She raced back into her bedroom, but she was back out in minutes wearing the tight pencil skirt. “Better?”
I looked at her from top to bottom, stopping for an extra moment on her legs. “Oh, yeah.”
Her face blushed to a pretty shade of pink. I’d have loved to take a moment to investigate that blush, but if we wanted to get food before work, we had to get moving.
Stepping out of the shower, I realize I forgot to grab clothes. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I open the door and step into my adjoining bedroom. As I’m about to walk to my dresser, I catch a glimpse of black and white on my bed. Agatha.
“Hey,” I say, a tad surprised. She’s leaning back, sitting on the edge of my bed, legs crossed, feet bare. I want to ask her what she’s doing but I already know. I quickly glance at the clock on the nightstand then back at her. “We’ll never have time to get dinner.”
“We can get something after.”
“True. Very true.” I step toward her in two long strides, sliding my hand behind her head, and kiss the fuck out of her. “This what you want?” I ask as I let my lips kiss down the column of her neck.
“Yes,” she says as I bite her earlobe.
“You sure?”
“Ian…”
I don’t need her to say anymore. As fast as I can, I work to unbutton the white blouse, careful not to rip it open like I want to. Her hands fumble along with mine working the buttons free. Once i
t’s open, I pull the blouse down over her shoulders letting her work it off her wrists. That’s good because I’ve got other things on my mind. Her tits. She doesn’t have huge breasts but what she does have is overflowing from her basic white bra. So much so that I can lean down and lick the top of one globe, then the other. “Fuck, honey.” The towel around my waist isn’t going to last much longer. My dick is fighting for escape. “I want you so bad.”
Chapter 29
Agatha
Ian’s hand is running over the tops of my breasts almost reverently. That is until he suddenly grasps one bra cup, pulling it down far enough for my nipple to appear. “Beautiful,” he says softly right before he latches on, sucking hard.
“Oh, God, Ian.” It’s such a shocking sensation that I arch my back off the bed.
His hands roam down my sides to the bottom edge of my skirt. Sliding a hand beneath the edge, I feel the warmth of his palm as he skims up my outer, then inner thigh.
“You sure, Agatha?” His voice is like warm honey, smooth and delicious.
I nod.
“I need your words, sweetheart.”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
His fingers slide out from beneath my skirt to wrap around my waist. Fumbling with the button. Once he gets it, he slides the zipper down. Patting my bottom, he growls, “Off.”
I raise my hips off the bed to assist in easing the skirt down.
“Wiggle, honey.”
I wiggle my ass back and forth as he pushes down my skirt leaving me in only my white cotton bikini panties that match my equally un-sexy white cotton bra. In seconds the bra is gone too. Replacing the bra? Ian’s warm hands. He’s cupping both breasts and I love it. I feel myself grow wet from just his fingers swiping over my nipples. Nipples that are hard and erect. “Ian,” I whisper.
“I want you so much, honey.”
I want him too.
His hands begin to knead my breasts, and every once in a while, his fingers pinch and pluck on my nipples like he’s playing an instrument. It’s turning me on so much. Reaching out toward his towel, I can feel him, long and hard. “Ian?”
