by Anne Conley
Quinten immediately stiffened next to her.
“Hey, there, Babe. You quit that other place with all those guys you were fucking? You fucking Jay now?”
“Um… yes, and no.” He was referring to the security company, but she knew correcting his false accusations about having sex with anybody was a losing battle. And apparently he was on a first name basis with Mr. Calahan, which meant he was a regular. Shit.
And, of course, he had to come in when she had just done cocaine, something she never would have done under any other circumstances.
For some reason, her mouth kept going, making the surreal situation even worse. “In fact, you of all people should know, I don’t fuck co-workers. I haven’t fucked Jay. I didn’t fuck anybody at the firm. And I wouldn’t have fucked you if you hadn’t gotten me fired from our job.” For good measure, she added, “Asshole.”
Quinten grabbed her elbow and steered her away from the bar before she could keep spewing.
“What the hell, Mir?” He spun her to face him and looked into her eyes. His face stiffened with concern as those all-seeing eyes sharpened. “What’s wrong? What did you take?”
“Not telling you.” He winced and she guessed she was talking louder than necessary.
Shaking her arms, Quinten lost it. “Who gave it to you?” He was yelling in her face, and she knew the ass-beating was coming. Miriam must have flinched, because he folded her into his arms.
It felt weird. Miriam felt antsy, like her insides were itching, and she didn’t want to be still in Quinten’s arms. “Let go. I’m fine. Just doing everything in fast motion.” She pushed away.
“You’re okay?” Still holding her at arms’ length, Quinten studied her. She nodded, her eyes darting everywhere but him. “Fuck.”
“It won’t last long, right?”
“Depends on what it is.”
“Coke. About this much.” She held her fingers a little ways apart.
“Jesus, Mir! You did coke?” His whisper seemed loud and she wanted to shush him but the worry in his eyes stopped her.
In a stage whisper, which she was sure was louder than her regular voice, Miriam responded, “It was a test! I had to pass it!”
“Christ…” Swiping a hand across the back of his neck that was an exact replica of his brother Simon, Quinten expelled a breath of air. “Fine. Do inventory. But call me if you need anything. I’ll bring you some juice in a little while. Come downs can be hard on coke.” He turned away from her with one last look. “Fuck. I’ll take care of Vince.” She didn’t even bother asking him how he knew about that.
Quinten was right. The come-down was brutal, but she deserved it. An hour later, Miriam was still in the closet, sitting in the corner, feeling listless at best. Her mind was all over the place, and none of it was good.
Mr. Calahan’s dual personality came to mind. She thought about how he was friends with Vince of all people. The life she and Vince were supposed to share with Daniel had all been a total sham exposed by Daniel’s death. She remembered the date she was supposed to go on with Jake tomorrow and how she had to cancel it now that he’d drugged her. She didn’t have any boobs anyway, and he wouldn’t like her when he realized that. She reminded herself she didn’t want him to like her. Not really. Miriam certainly didn’t want to like him. He was a mark and off limits. Except she was supposed to seduce him. Simon would fire her when he realized what she’d done.
Aware her thoughts were scattered, and it was most likely the drug doing that, she didn’t trust herself to interact with her ‘co-workers’. So she stayed in the closet an hour after finishing inventory. She couldn’t look Quinten in the eyes. If nothing else, he was her friend, and for some reason she felt like she’d disappointed him somehow. Even though she’d thought she was doing her job.
Some fucking job. She no longer cared if she finished it. A part of her had accepted it from Simon to prove to herself she was still sexy, but she could find another way to build her self-esteem.
Hours after going into the supply closet, Miriam emerged, clipboard in hand. Knocking at the office door, she waited for Jay to respond before she opened it.
“Want another?” His gaze swept up and down her body, making her feel like she’d just rolled in an oil slick.
“Um. No. I want to go home early. Inventory’s done, and Quinten can handle shut down.”
She didn’t know how to bring up the date. She knew he would argue with her about it, and she didn’t have the energy. She’d just meet him tomorrow after she’d slept and have a fresh round of ammo ready. Miriam would be able to figure something out by then.
Displeasure turned down his mouth, as if he was mad she couldn’t hold her coke. “Fine.”
She spun on her heels, eager to get the hell out of there, avoiding Quinten’s dark gaze.
Of course, when she got home, Simon’s car was parked in the space under her apartment. Quinten must have called him.
She braced herself against the backlash as she took her stairs. Sure enough, her boss was leaning against her door, glowering at her.
“Let me in. We’re talking.”
Miriam was too tired to talk, but she knew Simon had some things on his mind, and she might as well let him rail on her. He certainly wasn’t the first man to do that. Silently, she unlocked the door and ushered him inside.
“What. The. Hell. Were. You. Thinking?!” She opened her mouth to tell him she wanted to go to bed and sleep this off but he didn’t let her speak, so she snapped her mouth shut. “You’re not on the case anymore. Quinten can handle it the rest of the way. I cannot believe you would do something so epically stupid! Drugs?! You did drugs?! You’re not a cop working deep undercover, Mir. You’re a fucking secretary, for crying out loud! You can’t do this shit!”
She was on board until the secretary comment. A blind rage filled her as she realized she could summon just enough energy to put him in his place. Just because men had taken their own issues out on her all her adult life, didn’t mean she had to take it anymore. “Simon, I made a mistake. I get that. I’ll never do it again. But boss or not, you do not have the right to come in here and belittle me. That was a dick comment and you know it. Now leave.”
“I’m sorry, but you’ve got to understand—” His voice was pained, and Miriam realized his breath smelled a little like whiskey. Was he drinking because he was upset with her? That reminded her of too much, and she went off.
“No, you’ve got to understand. I’ve been working my ass of for you, going well above and beyond. I took this job as a favor to you, yes, but I also took it as a misplaced method to reclaim my femininity, to see if someone else thought I could still be sexy. I’ll give you the job back because I think I’ve found what I need. But you’re going to give me something in return. You’re going to give me some damn respect. You guys are my boys, and I love you. I enjoy cooking for you and doing things in addition to my regular duties, but you’re going to start appreciating it. I’m not your fucking doormat!” She was out of breath and about to collapse from exhaustion.
He stared at her, his eyes hard, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish. It would have been funny if she wasn’t so pissed off at him and pissed off at today. At herself.
His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he took a step toward her, grabbing her shoulders and folding her into a hug. “I’m sorry, Miriam. I’m just scared for you. You don’t have the training for this sort of stuff. As for the feminine thing, you are. You’re a beautiful woman, and any man would be a fool not to see it.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. “I appreciate everything you do. I just worry too much, I guess.”
Miriam was struck dumb at his display of caring, so she nodded against his chest.
“Go sleep this off. We can talk again tomorrow.”
Without another word, she turned and went to her bedroom. Simon had a key. He could lock up after he let himself out.
After eleven hours of sleep, some really strong coffee, and half a gallon of water,
Miriam felt relatively normal. But she was still dreading calling off the date.
She didn’t have Jake’s—or Jay’s, or Mr. Calahan’s, whatever he was called—personal phone number, so she had to see him in person. She had the bar’s number, of course, but something told her calling him there was a bad idea. In fact, with recent events, and her experiences with him at the bar, she didn’t want to talk to him at all if that’s where he was.
She kept telling herself she didn’t even owe him that—she should just stand his ass up—but some part of her wanted to see him again. Especially outside the bar. He was such a different person, and it was disarming. But the reptilian part of her brain wanted to completely ignore Simon’s edict to call it off just because Jake outside work was incredibly sexy. She wanted to pretend he was a totally different man from the slime ball at work. Because that Jake seemed so sensitive, in tune with her, caring. She didn’t want to stand that one up. It was all so incredibly confusing to her. If she were honest with herself, she wanted to get to know him, if for no other reason than to solve the mystery of the multiple personalities. Maybe she could convince the nice guy to make a more permanent appearance? It would probably help business at the bar. But she reminded herself this was a job, nothing more, and she needed her professionalism now more than ever.
But she wanted to see him again. Glutton for punishment? Curious to see which one would show up? She had no clue but was powerless against her urges.
That was why, when eight o’clock rolled around, she found herself walking up to the Lucky Lizard, not dressed for a date. She had very carefully chosen an outfit which screamed, “I’m not going out with you.” Worn cowboy boots, jeans with a hole in the knee, a faded Whiskey Myers t-shirt, denim jacket, and her hair in a ponytail. There. That should get the message across. Not going out.
It might have been more effective if she’d been able to make herself not wear the bra with the prosthetic breasts. The heavy silicone was uncomfortable, like strapping weights to her chest and hanging them from her shoulders. But Jake had never seen her without some sort of chest, and she was suddenly unsure of herself. She longed for the days when she wouldn’t care.
He was peering in the window, looking yummy in jeans and a tight-fitting long-sleeved shirt. Casual, like he was trying to out-casual her. Why hadn’t he worn those mustard-colored skinny jeans she hated so much? That would have made this easier.
When he turned and saw her, his grin lit up his entire face, and traitorous butterflies took flight in her tummy.
He scooped her into a hug before she could say a word, and when his lips brushed her cheek, she forgot what she was going to say anyway.
“I can’t do this…” she managed to get out around the smell of his aftershave and the feel of his biceps under her hands.
“Sure you can. Come on. I didn’t have time to eat.” He twined his fingers around hers and pulled her to a nearby food truck before she could protest. It was as if he knew she would try to get out of it.
“The Philly Cheesesteaks here are amazing. You want one?” She nodded in spite of herself.
It seemed he was going to behave. Maybe this wouldn’t be that bad? When she recalled Simon’s words to her, spite rose within her. She realized she was more pissed at Simon than she was at Jake. He’d done the whole alpha possessive thing with her, even going so far as to call her a fucking secretary. Yeah, she’d go out with Jake and have a great time. Fuck Simon. Even if he had backtracked an apologized for being an asswipe. It gave her an excuse to do this, since it was the nice Jake who’d shown up.
Once the decision was made, it was almost as if a weight had lifted. Or part of one, anyway. She still had her regular baggage, but she wasn’t going to talk about any of that tonight. Tonight was for having fun.
Tugging on Jake’s hand, she pulled him down to her. “I’m going to have fun tonight, okay? We’re not going to talk about anything serious. No drugs. No sex. A few drinks, and just wholesome, clean fun. Can you do that?” After what she’d seen, she doubted it.
His eyes widened in surprise. “Of course!” He released her hand and laid both his massive paws atop her shoulders. “I just want to spend some time with you. Getting to know you. Something about you has gotten under my skin, but I like it.” He flashed that cheeky grin of his, and she was powerless to resist. It wasn’t like the coke incident. It wasn’t a pressuring smile. It was weird, because suddenly, the two Jakes were again two different people.
“Okay,” she acquiesced.
They got back in line, and it was indeed the best sandwich she’d ever eaten. Even with extra napkins, it was extremely messy, and she licked her fingers clean, pleased with the quiet attention Jake gave her. They’d made casual small talk, and he was engaging and fun. She even laughed a little.
He did hit on one touchy subject, “Do you have any family?”
She wasn’t sure if he was talking about kids or her parents, so she responded carefully. “I have a brother, in Mystic, Texas, but let’s talk about something else.” He dropped the subject before it could veer into the topic of children.
“Do you like country and western dancing?” he asked, eyeballing her worn out boots. She nodded, unable to hide her grin, hoping he was a good dancer. She was thankful for the change in subject.
“Awesome. I was sort of afraid you’d want to go to one of those dance clubs, but country and western I can do.”
“You don’t like the other sort of dancing?” She felt a little disappointment but not much. More curiosity than anything.
“Oh, I can cut my kitchen rug, but I don’t really enjoy doing it in front of people.” He grabbed her hand again, twining his fingers with hers, and led her to a loud bar with a mechanical bull in the front window.
“Please don’t make me get on that.”
“Not if you don’t want to. This is your night.” He leaned down to speak, and his husky voice in her ear was an exquisite pleasure Miriam wanted to drown in. Holy cow, this guy was super sexy.
And he was a great dancer. Jake could two-step, jitterbug, and swing dance, all with a smile on his face. He held her close and led her around the dance floor flawlessly, as if he were made to be her partner. Vince never danced with her and got pissed when somebody else wanted to. Consequently, she hadn’t danced for years.
He clutched at her hips, sending warm tingles through her body, and coupled with his warm laughter in her ear, she was helpless. She liked this guy. Too much.
Breathless and laughing, she pled exhaustion.
“What can I get you to drink?” His blue eyes sparkled, and he licked his lips, every bit as breathless as she was.
“Water is fine.”
He left, and she stood at a railing, probably something made to look like an old fence post for drunk people to lean on. With interest, she watched the mechanical bull riders, some of them pretty good, most of them too inebriated to hold on for long. All of them eventually falling into the thick mats.
She watched the bull riders, cheering along with the audience to keep her mind off the fact she might be falling for this guy. Because that was an impossible thought, for so many reasons. She couldn’t even count the number of reasons it was a bad idea, yet it was happening, and she was helpless to stop the urge to continue whatever the fuck was going on.
A warm, thick hand snaked around her waist, and Jake’s aftershave filled her nostrils as he pressed himself against her back.
“You want another dance?” His sexy voice sent a shudder through her that he had to feel.
“No, thank you. I really appreciate it, though. It’s been so long since I’ve been dancing.” She turned around in his arms, trying to put some space between them. The pulsing between her legs really needed to stop.
“I’d think a gorgeous creature like you would have dance dates every weekend.” Aquamarine eyes focused on her as he took a pull of his beer, and she felt herself melt a little more as his lips wrapped around the neck of the bottle.
She
shrugged. “Not with my ex-husband.”
Did he know his buddy, Vince, was her ex? Had Vince talked about her? How long had they been friends? Her head swam with questions, and Miriam tried to remind herself this was a job she wasn’t even supposed to be doing, since Simon had his little hissy fit, but when he looked at her like that, it was really hard to think of much.
“You want to go someplace quieter? To talk?” As if he realized how that sounded, he held his hands up in front of him. “Just talking. Promise.”
Miriam laughed at his innocent gesture. “Sure.” But she couldn’t deny the heat he made her feel. She wanted it to stop. She wanted more of it. She was so screwed.
They walked slowly, hand in hand, back the way they came, toward where Miriam parked. This end of the street had darkened, as the businesses that weren’t bars had closed. She should have felt uneasy, being with Jake in this part of town without a bunch of people, but she didn’t.
She certainly shouldn’t have done what she did next.
Finding an alley between two relatively short buildings, she tugged on his hand and pulled him into it. Looking up at the sky, Miriam walked until she could see the stars between buildings. You couldn’t see them very well inside the city limits, but if you got the buildings to block out some of the ambient light you could see a few.
“There. That’s perfect.”
Jake looked up, his neck and Adam’s apple prominently displayed. Miriam controlled the sudden urge to lick it.
“What’s perfect?”
“This right here. The stars. Aren’t they beautiful?” She glanced over to find Jake staring at her.
“You’re beautiful.”
His hand cupped her neck and he came in close. “Can I?”
Miriam didn’t respond. She licked her lips as if they weren’t listening to her brain, which was emphatically yelling at her to stop this.
Jake obviously wasn’t listening to her internal monologue as his lips captured hers in a tentative kiss. Her brain reminded her he was an asshole at the bar, he’d given her coke yesterday, he was mixed up in Tres Lobos, and he stole from his parents. It was screaming at her that this was a bad idea.
