by A. m Madden
“So, yes?” he prompted after a few long, uncomfortable seconds had passed.
“Um…I don’t think—”
“Come on,” he interrupted. “You have to give me something to tell my buddies. Either the story will be, I bumped into a gorgeous girl and spilled her coffee all over her crotch. The end.” I opened my mouth to speak when he lifted a finger to stop me. “Or…the story could be, I bumped into a gorgeous girl, spilled her coffee all over her crotch, took her to lunch, and lived happily ever after.”
I laughed at his persistence. “Wow, that’s smooth. Is this your normal method of picking up girls? Knock them on their ass and then rescue them with dry cleaning?”
“I can assure you I’ve never done this before, Maygen. The rescuing them with dry cleaning, that is.” He flashed a devious smile when his insinuation dawned on me. “It’s just lunch. Unless you already have a date, which would be my luck.”
“Nope, no dates,” I responded pathetically.
Shit, why was I sharing info with this complete stranger?
“Okay, then, great for me. So, lunch?” he asked when I still hadn’t responded to his offer.
“Okay, lunch.”
“You made my day, Maygen. I’ll meet you right here at noon. Don’t stand me up, I’ll be devastated and forced to wander these streets every hour until I find you again. Rain, shine, pack of wild dogs, nothing would stop me until I did.”
“Pack of wild dogs, huh?”
“It can happen.”
“I wouldn’t want you to be mauled by a pack of wild dogs on Seventh Avenue. I’ll be here, I promise.”
His smile matched mine, and I quickly turned away to get to my office…even though all I wanted was to continue standing there chatting with that gorgeous specimen of a man.
Chapter 2
David
I watched her blond locks shimmying against her back as she strode with purpose toward the doors of her office building.
Gorgeous.
The seat of her trench coat was blackened from the city sidewalk grime where she ass-planted. I felt badly that I ruined her clothes. They looked expensive…in fact, everything about her appeared expensive.
In spite of her tiny frame, she was feisty. The fire that blazed in her pale blue eyes when I knocked her on her ass immediately caught my attention. I could tell she reined in what she truly wanted to say to me—probably something along the lines of “You’re a fucking moron.”
And just like that, life turned on a dime. I’d woken that morning dreading another long, boring day; who knew that a petite little blonde would suddenly give me something to look forward to?
Lunch.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. David Cavello didn’t do lunch.
Shaking my head at the ridiculousness, I stood staring through the glass doors leading to the lobby, until she vanished into a waiting elevator. Only then did I make my way back to my apartment.
Maybe meeting pretty little Maygen would lead to something interesting that I could get lost in for a while. During the ten minutes our paths had crossed, there was something in her that piqued my interest. That rarity alone needed to be explored. It wasn’t like I lacked female companionship. Most of the women I knew had become nothing more than predictable distractions. I was bored out of my fucking mind.
It’d been one week since I kicked Tiffany out of my apartment in the middle of the night. Even before stepping into the bar that night I should have known I was in one of my “moods.” While watching Tiffany laughing with her friends in the corner, I should have recognized the cloud of depression that hovered above me. Instead of walking away, I allowed her—along with a few double shots of Jack Daniel’s—to skew my judgment. As I said the words, I knew inviting her back to my apartment was a bad idea.
It was a shit day, compliments of my tour in Iraq. Barry Price had been on my mind no matter where I went or what I did to distract my dark thoughts.
Once again, I was looking for that escape, the one I couldn’t find. That night, Tiffany and her perfect 34D boobs fit the bill, as did the booze, even if only for a few hours.
I tried to numb the dark thoughts. Hooking up for a night distracted me. I think what went wrong that night with Tiffany was the fact that we ended up at my apartment. The reasons how or why that happened were still fuzzy to me. Regardless, I should never have fucked her in my own bed, a place I shared with no one, a place where my dark thoughts preferred to surface.
I texted yet another apology the next day, which she ignored. I hadn’t visited my favorite bar since. After that hellish incident I swore off hookups for a while. I was dangerous that night, and I couldn’t allow it to happen again.
Lesson learned.
Booze + hot chick + my bed = disaster.
This was what had become of my life. Constantly trying to find the magic elixir that would leave my brain blank instead of it being filled with darkness. It was exhausting.
After a subway ride took me back downtown, I let myself into my apartment with a heavy sigh. Although a definite improvement over the dump I was forced to live in while hiding out from the FBI, it was still a dump. My brother-in-law often reminded me of how awful my old place was. My sister was thankful to never have seen it, because she thought my current residence was pretty atrocious. When my sister and Nick visited, the fact that she held Nicholas in her arms the entire time spoke volumes.
“David, this is awful.”
I took offense to that. First off, I could see through my windows, unlike my old place, where they were covered in gray sludge. Second, I actually had a separate bedroom and bathroom with doors to each. And third, I had neighbors. Those differences alone made this place much nicer. As long as you didn’t mind the Chinese food smell that constantly wafted through the vents.
“Baby, trust me. This is a huge improvement from where I found him,” my brother-in-law piped in.
“Well, if you’re planning on staying here, please let me at least help you decorate?”
“What’s the point? This gives me an excuse not to have visitors. Unless, they invite themselves over,” I’d quipped with a raised brow.
“Screw you. I have the right to see where my brother lives…and to see my brother.”
She was right. After being away for so long, I couldn’t deny her visiting, nor did I want to. Besides, I missed the monkey. My nephew was already over a year old, and I had a lot of catching up to do. Now that Angela had Nick back, the changes in my sister were heartwarming. I was so happy for her. If only one of us could be happy, it should be her.
A few days later, after returning from an overnight trip to see my parents, I walked into Angela’s attempt at beautifying my humble home.
“What are you doing?” I asked, finding her on her hands and knees scrubbing my kitchen floor.
“Ensuring Nicholas doesn’t catch a disease the next time he visits.”
“Very funny, smart-ass. How did you get in here?”
She stood, put her rubber-gloved hands on her hips, and said, “My husband is in the FBI, genius.”
“Well played.”
From the door I scanned the small space, surprised at the immediate difference. I hated to admit the huge potted plant, throw rug, artwork, and useless knickknacks that she had brought actually did wonders to lessen the “atrocious” factor of my place. Decorative pillows and a brown suede throw hid the worn-out fabric of my couch. I wordlessly walked around my apartment, in awe of the changes she had made in one day.
Angela had stripped my bed, replacing my plain ugly bedding with a masculine navy comforter and matching sheets of the finest quality. I skimmed my hand over the smooth fabric, laughing to myself. At least when I thrashed around in the middle of one of my PTSD episodes, I’d be doing it in style.
Walking into my bathroom, I saw fluffy large towels, a small shag rug, a new shower curtain, and a much-needed toothbrush holder, tissue box, and trash can.
The kitchen had the most significant changes.
My countertops gleamed, and my fridge was stocked. She’d even gone as far as buying me a toaster, coffeemaker, dishes, silverware, pots, and glasses.
“This had to have cost a pretty penny. I don’t need all this stuff,” I mumbled, upset with her for spending so much money.
“David, you can’t entertain anyone by using paper plates and leftover cutlery from the Chinese restaurant downstairs,” she teased.
“Seriously, Ang.” I ran a frustrated hand over my head. “I can’t pay you back, not yet, anyway.”
She walked closer and smiled warmly. “When you got home last summer, things were so crazy in my life. You were there for me, and you put yourself in danger because of Ronnie. And because you were out there protecting me, I was able to mend my relationship with Nick and take care of my son. I could never properly repay you, David. Please let me do this? I love you.”
Deep green eyes that looked so much like mine held my gaze. As much as I hated depending on people, even my own sister, I couldn’t purposely disappoint her.
“No, you annoy me,” I deadpanned, giving her my usual response to her declaration of love. It always drove her nuts when I did that. Just as she was about to argue I pulled her to my chest with a crushing hug.
“You’re welcome,” she mumbled against my T-shirt. My sister knew I was a man of few words, and thankfully she accepted the hug as my thank-you.
So now, I didn’t hate being in my apartment as much as I used to…thanks to my little sis.
Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I plopped down on the couch to make my phone calls. Once done, I alternated between doing my homework assignments and watching the clock until it was time to head back out to see Maygen.
At five minutes before noon, I stood outside her office building waiting for her to show up.
As a joke, I’d picked up a bottle of Shout stain remover, since she didn’t accept my offer to pay for dry cleaning. I held it in my hand, fiddling with the red bow I’d attached, as I waited for her. While leaning against a street sign, I decided to take her to a noisy pub I knew of a few blocks away. It’d be less intimate, less awkward.
People came and went, the minutes ticked by, and still no Maygen. I debated going inside to wait, but instead paced the pavement outside her building.
At five minutes to one, I shook my head and left.
Maygen
Shit…Shit, shit, shit.
Oh well, I thought when I glanced at the time on my phone. There goes that. It was one o’clock, and the probability of meeting David for lunch was zero to none.
As luck would have it, the best part of my day was being knocked on my ass and covered in coffee at the hands of that handsome stranger.
It had been all downhill from there. A few minutes after stepping foot into my office I knew I should have turned around and gone back outside. The latte that Betha spilled all over my desk was the tip of the iceberg. She tried her best to clean it up, but the paperwork piles that urgently needed my attention today were completely destroyed.
I put Betha on the task of reprinting every soggy contract and design approval she’d killed with her latte as I set out to dial Dax’s number. As my index finger jabbed out the last digit, Dax called for the tenth time.
“Oh my God, where have you been?” his deep voice boomed through the phone.
Dax had the face and body of an underwear model. The media often ribbed that he should be walking the runways and not clothing them. The man stopped people in their tracks. However, when he spoke, both men and women alike turned into a pile of mush. His voice was sexy as hell, and when I had first started working for him, hearing him say my name would cause things to pulse deep inside me. I developed a tiny crush on my boss, albeit short-lived.
Once I got to know him and we became friends, I began to see him in a new light. More like a brother or cousin. I think it had to do with the fact I knew all his dark, dirty secrets…and he had many.
The things I knew would make Christian Grey blush. But he trusted me implicitly and I would never betray that trust, unless he pissed me off. Then he knew all bets were off, and I’d write a tell-all book filled with stories he’d shared with me. Of course, I was kidding.
“First off, are you okay? You’re never late to work.”
“I wasn’t late!”
“Well, you weren’t in early…so then you were late.”
Not bothering to argue, I sighed and said, “Yes, I’m fine. Anyway, what do you need that couldn’t wait?”
I regretted asking, because what he proceeded to command over the phone would take me days to accomplish, and not the hours he so generously offered.
“Dax, I need an assistant.” This was an old argument. I loved working for him, but his dependency on my abilities, and his belief that I was the only one among his staff of twenty who was capable of getting the job done, was getting old.
“We’ll talk about that as soon as I get back. I know you can get this done for me, sweetheart. I have faith in you,” he pleaded in his sexy voice before hanging up.
The man could drive me to drink.
So, there I was downtown, still wearing my original coffee-splattered clothing from my run-in with David, and waiting for Dax’s designs to be digitally remastered. The moment I had the black portfolio case loaded up with the finished portraits, I zipped out of the studio and hailed a cab.
“Third and Forty-Sixth, please,” I barked once I slammed the door shut. Of course Dax wanted me to personally deliver them to Women’s Wear Daily. Arranging a messenger for something as important as delivering original prints of his new line to the biggest trade publication in our industry was simply out of the question.
By the time I got back to my office it was close to four o’clock. Like an idiot, I scanned the street both north and south as if David would actually still be standing there waiting for me four hours later.
Sadly, I dragged my exhausted self into the main lobby and right to the security desk.
“Hey, Ray. Did anyone come in asking for me?”
Our trusty security guard looked up and frowned. If by some sheer chance David actually came inside the lobby, I’d left an explanation with Ray for why I couldn’t make lunch. I couldn’t have Betha come down to intercept a message because Dax had her running in an opposite direction today.
“You mean that David guy? No, Miss Whitney. Sorry.”
“Okay, thank you,” I responded dejectedly.
Remembering that I had indeed skipped lunch, I about-faced it out onto the street and headed for my favorite coffee spot.
On the short walk, I dialed Betha’s desk phone to check in. When she responded I said, “I’m downstairs getting something to eat. Want anything?”
“Yes! I need a latte. This day has been one from hell!”
I rubbed my throbbing head at her declaration. “Please, no more. I don’t have the energy to put out any more fires today. The weekend can’t come soon enough.”
“Yeah, well, it’s only Thursday, but I agree. He better get his ass back home soon. I’m going to tell him he is no longer allowed to travel when we are in the middle of putting the next line together. I’m putting my foot down!”
I cleared my throat over the phone, and it took less than three seconds for her to amend her declaration: “I mean, you’re going to tell him he is no longer allowed to travel in the middle of putting the next line together!”
“Yeah, I thought so,” I conceded with a sigh.
Chapter 3
David
“More!” My nephew bucked on my lap in an effort to get me to move my leg again.
“More?”
“Ya, more!”
“Okay, hold on, monkey.”
I bounced my knee in an exaggerated manner, and the more I increased the speed the more he giggled.
“You won’t be laughing when he throws up baked ziti all over you,” Angela scolded, although the beaming smile she sported on her face contradicted her reprimand.
“H
e won’t throw up. Right, dude? You tough like Uncle.” I beat a fist over my chest. “We make fire.”
“More!”
“Your attempts at humor don’t impress him,” Angela said before reaching for Nicholas and taking him from my lap. “Come on, little man, say good night.”
“Night, monkey,” I said, lifting my hand so he could give me a high five. He slammed his tiny hand against mine, and I winced, pretending to be hurt, causing a fit of giggles that was infectious.
“Need help, babe?” Nick asked, sporting the blinding smile that he usually wore whenever around my sister or his son.
“No, I’m good. You relax.” She bent Nicholas in front of Nick. “Kiss Daddy good night.” Father and son exchanged a tender moment, and I couldn’t fathom ever feeling that paternal bond in my lifetime.
Nick was the best thing to have happened to Angela. They first met in Chicago, separated for two years, and, very long story short, were now happily together in New York with their son, Nicholas.
I wasn’t always a fan of my brother-in-law. Before I got to know him, I suspected he was nothing more than a crooked agent, like his boss Rupert. Turned out, Nick Farley was a good man in every way. His character and work ethic were what pushed him up the administrative ladder, making him one of the youngest head honchos in the FBI.
Once Angela and Nicholas left the room, Nick noticed my scowl. “What?”
Not wanting to divulge that I was jealous, I quickly shook my head in mock disgust. “You’re so whipped, dude.”
“I am not.”
“Yeah, okay. Do the guys down at headquarters know this side of you?”
“Shut up,” he said with a smirk. “Beer?”
On my nod he walked to the fridge and brought back a beer for each of us. “So, what did George offer you this time?” he asked.
“Protection detail for a sixteen-year-old pop star while he tours the country? Yeah, no. Seriously, does he get a kickback if I accept one of these jobs?”
