Calamity Rayne: Gets A Life

by Lydia Michaels

  He laughed. “I like you, Meyers. There’s something about you that’s not…carbon copied. You tell it like it is. Not enough women out there like that. Too many trying to play the part they think the world wants from them.”

  “I’m not real good at pleasing the world. Half the time I’m unclear about what I want. I can’t worry about others’ preferences.”

  A maid removed the dishes, and Remington sat forward, opening his computer and turning it so I could see the screen.

  “This morning I’m going to teach you about how I made my first million. I may not know everything about you yet, Meyers, but I know you like money. What do you say we make some?”

  “I say giddy-up.”

  Over the next hour, Remington took me through the basics of the stock market. I learned about the Dow Jones, NASDAQ, and the S&P. He showed me the world markets, the gainers, the losers, and ways to track a stock’s performance. Once I had a basic understanding of the game—I called it a game because that’s what it was, legal gambling for the wealthy—he convinced me to invest a one-hundred dollar pay advance on a commodity.

  Gas and corn were down, but gold was up. That sounded simple enough, but Remington had other suggestions. Still, my attention kept returning to a company called Hale Sterling & Gold. Don’t judge me. I saw the coincidence. But that’s all it was, a coincidence.

  Once we filled out a few online forms, Remington called his hedge fund accountant and introduced us. It was that easy.

  As he ended the call, I smiled. “Maybe one day I’ll be sitting on my boat telling someone how I started my empire.”

  My imagination painted an image of me swaying on a rusted dinghy as yachts bellowed their horns and rocked my little boat in their wake.

  “You can follow it on your phone,” he pointed out, showing me exactly how to do that.

  “Cool. So, what else do we have to do?”

  Footsteps sounded from the lower deck and I held my breath. I made a decision in the shower that morning not to get all twitterpated like some Disney character just because a halfway decent looking man was in my presence. No, sir. I was going to put all Hale issues out of my head and go about my business of getting Remington what he needed, and enjoying this adventure.

  About to pass out from lack of oxygen I exhaled as Eric stepped onto the sky deck. Funny, I should have been relieved it wasn’t Hale, but a tinge of disappointment struck. Eric’s gaze immediately went to the cozy breakfast setting and laptop shared between Remington and me.

  My smile turned a bit guarded, as I understood this buddy-buddy stuff might pose an issue for assistant number one. I wasn’t trying to kiss the boss’s ass or play favorites. Really, I was just happy not to have screwed up anything monumental in the last hour.

  “Eric, I need to get ahold of Bradford. Smithfield emailed the schematics for the grass roots office, and the measurements are off in three of the four specs. If it isn’t straightened out by the end of the day, I want you to get some feelers out for a new designer. I’m not cutting corners because my staff’s incompetent. Get him on the phone and give him fair warning of my mood.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As useful as an unnecessary piece of furniture, I sat there without making a peep. Remington threatened he was in a pissy mood, but he’d been pleasant all morning. It didn’t seem fair that Eric was walking into a volatile atmosphere I’d been spared from. Feeling guilty, I shrunk a bit more into the backdrop, but that only worked for about a second.

  “Meyers.”

  “Yes, sir.” I promptly sat up, no longer playing statue.

  “Go find Hale and tell him to bring me the thumb drive with the Hilton specs on it. He’ll know what I’m talking about.”

  “Thumb drive. Hilton. Hale. Got it.”

  Happy to get away, it only registered that I was on my way to find Hale once I was below deck. Rather than worry about returning to the state of a blubbering idiot, I focused on the success of my morning. Remington seemed happy with his choice in assistant, and I believed there had been some mild bonding over breakfast. Plus—major bonus—I hadn’t thrown up my muffin. Perhaps I was finding my sea legs after all.

  I knew there was a crew aboard, but it freaked me out that I never saw them. Where did they go? So much of the internal yacht was taken up with posh living quarters, more spacious than one would imagine. I didn’t think there was much room left to hide people. Were they all stacked up in dresser drawers, sleeping in some bunker below sea level?

  “Hello…?”

  Crickets.

  No one was in the galley, or the living room, which was connected to the dining room. Remington’s room was empty and I didn’t see anyone on the lower deck. It was only nine o’clock. Maybe Hale wasn’t awake yet.

  Taking the carpeted steps to the staterooms, I heard the muffled rumble of his voice. Success. Target Located. I approached the cracked door and his tone made me hesitate before knocking.

  “This is bullshit, Clayton. Why now? I’m telling you, this is all an attempt at exposure, and nothing to do with me. We’ve already signed off on the agreement and the period for further negotiation is over. It’s a done deal.”

  I stepped back as he paced and I could see his reflection in the mirror on the wall. Dear God, he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

  Fascinated by the elastic waistband of his briefs peeking out from his pants and designer belt, my gaze traveled over each little divot carved into his tight abdomen. Six. He had six abs. Now that I had that covered, I counted his nipples. Two. Two fine, little chocolate nubs.

  His hand dragged over the back of his neck and I caught sight of a soft tuft of hair under his arm. I couldn’t recall ever being so fascinated by male anatomy. Maybe it was because Hale’s body matched my definition of male perfection, something I used to believe only existed in literary porn.

  I kept staring, searching for any flaws but found none. Even the little nick of a scar on his shoulder appeared purposeful and right.

  A soothing calm settled over me as something tugged low in my belly. The forgotten familiarity of arousal hit like a cool rain, provoking the urge to bolt, but at the same time anchoring me to the ground.

  It had been so long since a man caused any sort of reaction in me. It was ungrounded to have these feelings about someone I didn’t know.

  But looking at Hale, the way he carried himself, the flex of his muscles, the control of his words, and the smooth skin at his shoulders, I wanted to scale him like a girl scout earning a tree-climbing badge. My fingers twitched as I thought about digging my nails into that smooth skin and rubbing my lady bits all over his rigid body.

  Problem was, he was the boss’s son. Let us not forget that.

  His words were muffled as he kept his voice low, but there was a serious note to his tone. I probably shouldn’t be listening, but I wanted to know what exasperated a man like Hale who seemed to master remarkable calm in all situations. My mind couldn’t piece together all these differing sides of him, and I really wanted to get the whole picture.

  “Call me back once you get more information,” he said, as he ended the call.

  Facing the television, his back was just as sexy as the front. A news show played on mute. The host was so pretty it seemed unfair that she was also smart. That was the type of woman that would look perfect with Hale and that truth was enough to stifle my hormones for another frigid decade.

  Afraid he’d catch me spying, I stepped back. If I could just convince myself that he was hideously unattractive, life would be much easier.

  His phone rang again and this time, his tone was completely different. “Hey, Barrett.”

  Barrett was his brother—The Hot One as Elle liked to call him. A soft laugh caught my ears, and I was moved by just how genuine and unguarded it sounded. In that moment, that split second laugh, I knew he and his brother were close.

  “It should make for an interesting trip,” Hale said. “He has a new assistant, so that’s helping matters.”

>   I grinned. I was helping matters.

  He paused and sat on the bed then laughed again, but this time, the sound ended on a sigh as if he were emotionally drained from the past week. It had to be frightening almost losing a parent. That constant reaching for someone who isn’t there… I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

  “I know. I’m worried too. It puts a lot of things in perspective.”

  Stepping closer to the door, I studied his expression in the mirror, as there was a flash of something close to vulnerability in his eyes.

  “I’m doing my best to let our issues go and not argue with him, but he doesn’t make it easy.” His brother must have said something funny because there was a brief curve to his lips. “Yeah. You too. I’ll see you soon.” He ended the call and the tension notably left his body as he stood.

  Enough eavesdropping. Remington was probably getting impatient. “Knock-knock,” I said as I tapped on the door.

  He turned and took on his regular composed expression of indifference. In that moment I realized yesterday was a privilege. Hale didn’t usually show his softer sides and something in his past taught him to always keep his guard up.

  I wasn’t sure what made him so guarded, but I suspected it had to do with his father and that made me sad because he really was likable when he let people see the softer sides of him.

  “Rayne. Come in.” He reached for a dress shirt and made quick work of covering himself.

  I had a job to do and needed to keep my nose out of his private business. “Your dad wants you up on the sky deck with the thumb drive that has the Hampton specs.”

  He frowned. “Hilton?”

  “Yeah, sorry.”

  He nodded then tipped his head. “Were you sick last night? I thought I heard you shuffling around.”

  Wonderful. Cue Pomp and Circumstance. I just graduated to a new level of sexy. “My sea legs were a bit delayed.”

  “Do you feel better today?”

  His concern was, again, surprising, as I was never sure which side of him I should expect. I preferred the gentle, caring side, but there was also great appeal to his authoritative side. Especially after discovering he was only three years older than me.

  He seemed so powerful at times, I wasn’t sure how anyone in their thirties pulled off that sort of clout. I certainly couldn’t.

  I nodded. “I’m adjusting, I think.”

  His full lips twitched but only made it halfway to a smile, as if he caught the motion and intervened just in time. “Good.”

  My attention returned to the attractive newscaster on the TV and he followed my gaze and frowned. Reaching for the remote, he shut off the flat screen. “I’ll get those files and be up in a few minutes.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t move because he wasn’t moving either. Then I realized he was probably waiting for me to get out of his way. “Okay,” I repeated.

  “Do you like The Lady Parr?”

  Relieved he asked a question that would keep the conversation going, I smiled, but had to think about what he was talking about. “The boat? Yes. It’s really nice.”

  “Have you had a tour yet?”

  “No.” I chuckled. “Where does the crew hide?”

  “There are quarters below. I could show you if you want a tour.”

  You’d think he’d offered me a trip to Paris for how eager my response came out. “I’d love that!”

  The corner of his lips hooked in a half smirk. “Don’t get too excited. The crew quarters are the least luxurious portion of the vessel.”

  Right. Bring it down a notch, Rayne. Sensing my overzealous grin, I forced my mouth into a resting position. “When did you want to do it?”

  His brow lifted.

  “The tour,” I clarified my face heating with the heat of a thousand suns. “When did you want to give me a tour?”

  “Now. I’ll run this up top and we’ll start there.” He turned and reached for something in a leather bag. “Let’s go.”

  I hesitated. “I’m working.” It seemed wrong to go flitting off with Hale when I was here to assist Remington.

  He waved a hand. “You need to know your way around the yacht. Eric’s with him. He’ll be fine.”

  Though he assumed the authority to make such decisions, I wasn’t sure of the impression it would give my boss. If Remington objected I’d stay and take a tour later, but it would probably benefit me to learn my way around the ship as soon as possible.

  As I followed him up the steps, I learned some things about myself. I was never an ass girl, but being on eye level with Hale’s sexy ass as we climbed the stairs was straight up awesome. I couldn’t help but study the way the seam of his pants fell perfectly over the crease of his cheeks and the bitable perfection that sloped into his legs.

  Once we reached the main floor, I was eye level with his mid back and downwind from his yummy scent. He glanced back and my lips shifted into a weird smile. It was a fail. I totally bared my teeth like a growling ferret.

  “Your new clothes fit okay?”

  “What? Oh. Yeah. They’re fine.”

  “They look nice.” He held the door to the deck and I inwardly reveled in his praise.

  The clothes were just overpriced capris and a polo shirt, but hey, if that’s what did it for the trust fund type, I was game. I’d do it for him all night long.

  Shaking my head, I mentally chastised myself. I seriously needed to slow my roll with the sexy talk, because even hearing it in my head was embarrassing.

  The sea gods were smiling on me as we took another flight of steps to the sky deck. Hello again, Mr. Cute Bum.

  Remington’s voice rumbled, and as we crested the top floor, I saw he was on the phone. Eric had his nose buried in the laptop but looked up as we approached. Hale handed him something small, which I suspected was the thumb drive. Eric glanced at me, his eyes narrowing.

  Seriously, we were on the same team. What was his problem?

  Because I absolutely hated confrontation, I tried to be as friendly as possible. “How’s it going, Eric?”

  “It took you long enough.”

  My shoulders drew back and I casually glanced at Hale who was busy talking to his father as Remington held the phone away from his ear.

  Looking back to Eric, I explained, “Hale was on the phone. I had to wait for him to get off.”

  His lips pursed. “Well, looks like he got off. You can sort through that stack of files over—”

  “I’m going to show Rayne around,” Hale announced, interrupting Eric’s instructions.

  I wasn’t sure if I took direction from Remington’s other assistant. Eric had seniority and knew a hell of a lot more than me, so maybe that was how this worked, but when Remington agreed a tour was a good idea, I didn’t object. First and foremost I listened to Mr. Davenport.

  “We shouldn’t be long,” I said, trying to keep the peace.

  Remington waved me off, not seeming to care, but Eric’s scrutiny weighed heavily on my back as we walked away.

  As we approached the steps, Hale’s father called, “While you have her, square away the paperwork, Hale.”

  Hale nodded and I sucked in a sharp breath when the weight of his hand rested on my lower back. We were touching? I didn’t think we were there just yet, but as the heat of his palm warmed my shirt I found no reason to complain.

  I needed a diversion before I giggled like a schoolgirl. It had really been far too long since I felt a man’s hands on me. Needing a distraction, I waited until we were back on the lower deck and announced, “I don’t think Eric’s a fan of mine.”

  Hale’s hand fell away as he stepped to my side and I drew in a deep breath. God, I was out of practice and for all I knew, this was just gentlemanly behavior. The opening of doors, bag carrying, and back touches could all be the result of a decent upbringing and totally unrelated to any sort of sexual tension.

  He slipped on his sunglasses and faced me. “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know. He gave me the stink eye a
minute ago and last night he seemed irritated when he delivered my phone. He never smiles and he always seems to scowl whenever he looks at me. Unless that’s just his face, but he doesn’t look at you guys that way.”

  “And so he shouldn’t.”

  Hale wasn’t being cocky, but the unruffled security he had in his authority triggered something in me. I wasn’t usually around powerful men, but when he showed that assured side my woman parts became very alert.

  It was that sort of authority that led to Lewinskys. I didn’t know how to Lewinsky, because why would anyone want to do that? But there was a definite appeal to authority that made a girl rethink her stance on BJs.

  “Don’t worry about Eric. He’s just not used to sharing my father’s attention. In a day or two, I’m sure he’ll appreciate your presence. My dad’s a pain in the ass and his cast is only going to make him more demanding than usual. It’s good you’re here.”

  Relieved to hear him say that, I put my insecurities aside. “So…I’m ready to be awed by your nautical knowledge. Fair warning, I know absolutely nothing about boats, but I can do a mean pirate accent.” Now that I wasn’t as tongue tied in his presence talking wasn’t so hard.

  He chuckled, but the sound was abbreviated as if he didn’t laugh often. “Is that so?”

  “Aye. If you’re a good guide, I’ll tell you some of my pirate jokes.”

  Grinning, he turned, but shifted a little closer. “Then we should probably start here. The Lady Parr is what’s called a tri-deck yacht.”

  Sliding open the glass door, he allowed me to step into the living quarters first.

  “Everything was custom designed down to the finish of the furniture.”

  “So nothing from Ikea?”

  He smirked. “The Swedes missed out on this one, I’m afraid.”

  The best part of Ikea was the names of their products. “We once had a chair from Ikea and I loved inviting people to sit on my flärdfull.”

  He glanced over my shoulder. “It’s a very nice flärdfull.”

  What’s that now?

  Was that a joke? A sexy joke? I laughed nervously. He should see my knubbigs.