“I would NEVER hurt my son!” The protests were laced with doubt though. The melted plastic of my phone was enough to make me shiver.
“Will you let me help you?”
I didn’t want to think. I just wanted to hide in my bed for a few years. I wished that life hadn’t led me here. “I can’t possibly think of what you could do.” I bit my lip and felt ashamed at how small my voice sounded. I had signed those papers, swearing that he wouldn’t be able to affect me like this ever again.
“First thing I can do is give you this advice. You don’t ever give your power away Grace.” She pulled me into a quick hug and then looked into my eyes and smiled. “And, as for Brandon and his threats, I’ll take care of that. Will you work with me?”
“I can’t believe that I’m buying into this, but yeah,” I nodded. “I’ll do anything to keep my son.”
“Good girl. I’ll send Drew over in a few days. He’ll help you get ready for training. We don’t have a lot of time. I feel like things are going to get pretty bad pretty quick. He’ll help you take care of the house, the kid and the surges of magic that are about to start happening.” She smiled. “Plus, he’s pretty to look at.”
“Why aren’t you going to help me with that?” I asked, confused.
She laughed and smiled. “I have a world to save and your training to prepare for.” She patted my arm and blinked out after telling me that she’d be in touch.
I didn’t know how she was going to fix things. Brandon was tenacious. He didn’t want me, but he couldn’t leave me alone. Years of emotional neglect, but after I’d given up and finally begun to move on, he decided he needed to be up in my business. There were so many times when I secretly wished that he’d knock Clarissa up so he wouldn’t bother with us anymore. I just wasn’t that lucky. When all was said and done, I didn’t know if I could believe in Diana - but now was as good a time to start having a little faith.
Chapter 4
Two days had passed since I'd given Diana my promise. I hadn't heard from her, but I also hadn't received any more calls from Brandon. Maybe she was helpful after all.
Being a creature of routine has its uses. Instead of obsessing over what might happen, you can fall into the normal hubbub of everyday life and pretend that everything is normal. Dylan still needed to go to school and the book still needed to be finished. I was good to go shrouded in my veil of denial.
After shuffling him off to school the second morning, I resumed the staring competition that I had with the red wall behind my desk. Like a hundred little eyes, the Post-its that covered the wall stared back - unblinking and mocking. The words were right there in front of me. This book was in the bag, so why wouldn’t my fingers work?
I’m pretty sure that I would have won the contest this time but my concentration was interrupted by the ringing of my office phone. “To answer, or not answer - that is the question.” It rang three more times before my hand hit the speaker button.
“Hello?”
“Grace, have you seen the news? Can you believe that there was an earthquake in Colorado Springs? Did you feel it? But more importantly, are you close to finishing the book, dear?”
I scowled. Marisol always called me “dear” like she was my Grandmother’s age instead of only a few years older. She was a ball of energy - ruthless charm and wisdom rolled into a tiny 5’2” package.
Normally, she would be on the list of people to call when there was a crisis. However, I was no closer to finishing this book now than I was the last time she’d called. She must have had some keen sixth sense because rather than letting me alone, she was badgering me. This was the fourth time she’d called in the last thirty-six hours. It was the first time I’d picked up, though. Silly of me to think that not answering my phone was a successful dodge.
“Really? There was an earthquake? I didn’t feel it.”
“I see,” she paused. “I figured that the only reason you wouldn’t answer my calls is if you were buried under a pile of rubble, dying of thirst.”
There was a reason Marisol was my agent. She was ruthless in negotiations and she could see past my bullshit to make sure that the book got done. If left to my own devices, I’d be a starving artist instead of a comfortable one.
“Can we pretend that I’ve been buried under rubble and call it good?”
“Will that make you finish this damned book?”
I could picture her flipping her long dark hair off of her shoulder and leaning into the speaker of her phone, staring me down with those steely brown eyes.
“Yes?”
“Good! You’re already two weeks late on the deadline and I’ve had to do a few circus-worthy tricks to get the publishers to extend the deadline by a few more. They went ahead and set a publish date before talking to me first.”
Oh, yeah, she was annoyed. She earned her fifteen percent and then some by running interference, managing the three rings and oft- times playing mom to her writers. It royally pissed her off when the publishers threw an unexpected wrench into her machinations.
“I’m so close. Nearly everything is done. I just need to throw the two together, get them naked and it’s done.”
“So what’s the hold up? Don’t tell me it’s because you don’t believe in love anymore. God, you artists are going to be the death of me. Wait, never mind. I don’t care what the holdup is. Just finish the book Grace. Put your fingers on the keyboard and type. You could face roll this thing and still sell half a million copies.”
“Easy for you to say,” I grumbled.
“Yes, very easy. Now get moving. I’m looking at a condo in Venice and until you deliver your draft, I can’t afford to put a down payment on it.”
A smile forced itself on my lips. I couldn’t help myself. She was amazing. “Alright, I’ll finish it. But I expect pictures and color samples.”
“Good!” She didn’t say goodbye. She never did. She just hung up when she was done with the conversation. Sometimes even before I’d even had a chance to finish what I was saying.
Diana told me that it would be best to ask for a short break in between books since I’d be training. For now though, she was giving me the space I needed to finish up. Thinking on it, I was pretty sure that Marisol could give Diana a run for her money and I didn’t want to end up on the wrong side of a bet between the two. I’d finish this book first and then ask for a break.
I had no idea what the future was going to hold for me, but I did know that I had bills to pay and responsibilities that required this manuscript getting finished, so I hunched over my keyboard and stared at the letters. The urge to roll my face over the keyboard and proclaim this shit done was so strong that I had to giggle.
Writing romances was formulaic. Most of it was character development anyway. I’d done the hard part already, it was just a matter of throwing the two into an impossible situation where they would realize that they loved each other and couldn’t stand to be a part. I’d throw in a few forbidden sex scenes and bam, I was done.
My fingers didn’t find their way to the keyboard though. Instead I found myself propping my chin on my hand so I could stare out the bay window that was directly across the small room. It framed the rising peaks outside perfectly and if I watched long enough, I would see the wildlife that populated the area skitter across my back yard.
A small rabbit sat beneath the currant bushes, munching on something. I watched as his whiskers twitched and his cheeks filled to capacity with a small smile. It seemed so simple for them. Eat, sleep –.
“Make sure they don’t become road kill.”
I gasped in surprise and grabbed the closest thing to me, swinging around ready to defend myself against the body that came with the deep and very male voice.
“Oh.” My jaw went a little slack and the grip on my weapon loosened a bit.
I suppose that if one is going to be attacked in their home, having it done by a walking fantasy was the best way to go. Leaning against my door frame - making those Levi’s l
ook well-loved - was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my life. A dreamy sigh may have escaped my lips, but even under the threat of death I would never admit to it.
In that moment, I must have looked like some New York City construction worker, soaking him up with my eyes. All that was missing was me throwing out a cheesy line in a rough Brooklyn accent. His thighs kissed the fabric of his jeans showing the definition of muscles that the human body shouldn’t have. I avoided the package area. Honestly didn’t need to know what was there even though a part of me was dying to. An “Orange Crush” t-shirt was perfectly molded to his golden skin, showing off well-muscled arms, chest and shoulders. He wasn’t body builder “can’t fold my arms across my chest” muscled, but you could tell that he took very good care of himself. My gaze travelled up. He was an Adonis.
His hair was a highlight in reverse. Short and tousled around his head, it was the color of bleached sand with streaks of gold shooting through the strands. My stupid hand wanted to thread my fingers through it and see if it were as soft as it looked.
“So, the plan was to fend me off with your Redline Stapler?” he asked amused.
That snapped me out of my reverie like a bucket of cold water. I looked at my hand and saw my Office Space replica red stapler and flushed.
My tongue darted between my lips to nervously moisten them and I made the mistake of looking into his face. He had a strong jaw with a cleft in his chin. God, I was a sucker for a cleft. His lips were perfect, full and kissable. My eyes got stuck there for a moment before I finally forced them to meet his cerulean blue eyes.
The small sex kitten gasp that escaped from between my teeth forced me out of the fog. Whoa! This was not a normal Grace reaction. Remember? I was now officially a man-hater. “Remember?” I asked myself furiously.
I gathered my backbone and muttered, “Just my luck, the only gorgeous man I’ve met in ages and he’s a house breaker.” Then I declared more loudly, “So you have a choice. You can leave quietly or I can call the police after I wang you with my stapler.”
“After you wang with me with the stapler?” I could see his lips twitching as if holding in his laughter.
“Yes, definitely after. Think of it as a lesson. Home invasion deserves at least a modicum of pain.”
My free hand slid forward toward the phone when he broke into laughter. “Diana sent me.”
Okay, suddenly her parting comment of “He’s pretty to look at,” made sense.
“And you are?” I asked, gripping the receiver of my phone in one hand and my stapler in the other.
“You can think of me as your personal trainer, nanny and general helper. Diana said that you were pathetically out of shape and needed some work. I can see we have our work cut out for us.”
I scowled, annoyed now. “Do you have a name?”
“What do you want it to be?” he asked with a wink.
“What is this, Pretty Woman?” I retorted. One way to ensure my disinterest is to play up to the cliché. “I get that you’re unrealistically beautiful and this probably works on women all over the cosmos, but you don’t have to bother with all of that nonsense here. I’m a sure thing. I told Diana I would do whatever it took. So yeah, name?”
A look of disappointment marred that beautiful face and I swear that my heart skipped a beat when my brain realized that I had upset this gorgeous creature. Mentally I slapped myself. Stupid traitorous body! I didn’t have time for romance, flirtation or fantasies. As if he would even want me in the first place. “Get a grip Grace,” I chastised.
“Adonis,” he said with a bit of a blush. “But I like being called Drew.” He hurriedly finished.
“Drew?” I asked bemused.
“Who walks around with a name like Adonis?” He retorted.
That was a good point. “Ok, Drew it is. So what’s the plan here?” I put the stapler back on my desk and crossed my arms.
“Diana says that you have things that you need to finish up so I’m going to live with you until you finish your book. I’ll help you get into shape… as well as any other needs you have.”
“Needs?” I started thinking about rumpled sheets and sweaty bodies. Heat scalded my face with the intensity of my blush.
“She mentioned that you have a small boy that you may need help with while you are focused. Cooking, cleaning that sort of thing. She’s pretty serious about you getting your life together so you can start training.”
Oh God! Of course I was thinking of sex and he was thinking of nanny/ housekeeper duties. Rose was right, I needed to get laid.
“So what? You’re my mythical Mary Poppins?” I asked sardonically. “You’re my babysitter slash Mr. Miyagi?”
His lips quirked into a smile. “Yeah, you could think of it like that.” He peered down at the screen before continuing. “So, I see that you aren’t writing much right now. What time does Dylan get home from school?”
I glanced at the clock and saw that there were still four more hours before he stepped off the bus.
“Four hours, great! Let’s go for a quick walk and we’ll talk about setting up a routine.”
“Wait,” I held up my hand and closed my eyes. “I didn’t say four hours. So, how did you know?”
“Oh, I can read your mind. That’s one of my powers.”
The physical pain of embarrassment lanced through my stomach. It almost bent me over when I thought of what had been constantly running through my mind since he first caught my attention. Ohmigod he knew that I was undressing him with my eyes. OhmiGod I had to stop thinking. My breathing hitched as I began to hyperventilate. Dropping into my chair I bent over until my head was between my knees and tried to calm down. “Stop THINKING, GRACE! Stop Thinking!” I screamed mentally.
“Grace,” He said so calmly and softly. “It’s okay. I get it all the time. Breathe. I’ll just tune you out if it makes you feel better. I just forgot.” His hand settled between my shoulder blades and started massaging as he spoke - trying to calm me. “That’s right. Take a deep breath.”
“Damn right you’re going to tune me out. The only person that belongs in my brain is me. So… just… Oh God.”
“I’m out. It’s ok. Just breathe.”
My breathing slowed to normal.
“Don’t do that again.” My voice was rough and low.
“I won’t. I promise. Ready for that walk? It will help take your mind off once the endorphins kick in.”
I nodded and stood up, only a little wobbly. “Let me put some shoes on.”
“Actually, I have some shoes for you that I want you to wear while you’re walking around.” He produced a pair of odd looking shoes with a rounded sole.
“I think I’ve seen those. They’re pretty popular I guess.”
“They simulate walking in sand. It will help strengthen your calves and thighs while we walk. Every bit helps.”
I nodded and slipped them on. Standing only felt a little odd and I rocked back and forth a bit to test my balance.
“It will also help with your balance. So uh, are you going to wear that?”
“What?” I looked down at my holey sweat pants and faded World of Warcraft t-shirt. “What’s wrong with this? We’re going for a walk, not a fashion expedition.”
He bit his cheek and then his lip as though he wanted to say something but was trying to find a way to be gentle about it.
“What?” I asked exasperated. “Just spit it out. Jesus.”
“I want you to start making a concerted effort to not look like you just rolled out of bed and stayed in whatever you slept in. It will help you feel better about yourself.”
I closed my eyes, keeping my temper in check. “Noted.”
I had in fact rolled out of bed and just stayed in what I had worn to sleep. It’s not like I had anywhere to go. Nobody saw me, so what did it matter? I would have changed when I took my shower after lunch.
Annoyance was rising and while I wanted to get grumbly, stubborn, and tell him to fuck off, instea
d I preceded him out of the house into the bright sunshine of the day.
Squinting at the light, I settled my sunglasses onto my nose and started down the driveway. Being contrary wouldn’t give me information on what this training was going to consist of or why Diana had felt the need to send me the most gorgeous man in the Universe to do it.
I wish I hadn’t been so curious, because two miles later - with an ass on fire and calves that were screaming at me to stop - the answers to those two questions were no closer to being answered.
Every time my mouth opened to ask, he would tell me to concentrate on the movement of my muscles. Occasionally he would comment on the way I was placing my foot as it struck the pavement, or how my arms weren’t swinging correctly, and then he would become silent again.
I’d like to say that I took it like a man and was stoic about the entire ordeal.
I wasn’t.
I started the sarcastic bitching after 15 minutes. This wasn’t a leisurely pace that we were taking. I was practically running to keep up with his long legs and the new shoes made it difficult to get a good stride.
Mrs. Johnson had recently dead-headed her roses and was now in the process of spreading fake spider webs through her holly bushes.
I raised a hand in greeting, trying not to trip over my new shoes at the pace we were keeping.
“I can’t wait to see the decorations this year Mrs. Johnson!” I called as I practically galloped past her house.
Her mouth dropped open as we passed by and she nodded distractedly. Oh great, before you knew it, the gossips would have me in a torrid affair with my personal trainer. If I were lucky the lurid details would only have me shagging on street corners instead of in orgiastic parties full of drugs and gang members.
Huntress Page 5
