Calamity Rayne: Gets A Life
Page 26
“The tequila’s stronger here than the stuff I’m used to.”
He slid the carafe forward. “Have some coffee.” My mug was waiting.
Moving at a sloth’s pace, I doctored up a cup and savored a few sips before speaking again. “Thank you for treating last night.”
“Good employees and all that nonsense.”
I started to laugh, but it hurt, so I just breathed.
“Well, Meyers, I find myself down to one assistant, so we have a lot to cover.”
What was he rambling about? “Where’s Eric?”
“Gone.”
I frowned. “When will he be back?”
I didn’t mind the work, but right now it felt like my skull was imploding. I wouldn’t be much help until I had at least two more cups of coffee and something in my stomach to sop up all the alcohol.
“He’s not coming back.”
My face lifted and I winced as pain reverberated down my neck. “What?”
“After Hale had at him—I’m amazed you slept through that ruckus—I was caught up to speed and I let him go.”
“You…you fired him?”
“What do you expect, Meyers? Not only did he insult my staff, he painted my family in an undignified light. Rule number one of being a PA, never make the family look bad. That applies to all audiences.”
I was speechless.
“Drink your coffee.”
Eric worked for Remington for over a decade. The fact that he could let him go so easily was a bit frightening. It sort of put my relationship with the Davenports in perspective.
I worked hard to hide my hangover because Eric’s absence was a brutal reminder that this was work and Remington was my employer. If I didn’t get my act together, I could wind up fired too.
When I finished my coffee, he refilled my cup. “You’re not finished yet.”
“I’m okay. We can get to work.” I wanted to keep my job.
“Not yet.” He folded his hands and eyed me. “Like I said, personal assistant rule number one is making sure your employer always appears in a flattering light.”
“I know I had a little too much to drink last night, but it’s not like I was handing out business cards.”
“I’m not talking about that.” He waved a hand. “Hale told me you saw Jasmine.”
“Who?”
He arched a brow.
Oh, the pregnant chick. “Yes.”
“It’s important we handle this situation with care, Meyers.”
“I really don’t have anything to do with the situation, Remington. That’s Hale’s business and I have no intentions of airing his laundry.”
“Good.” He glanced toward the ocean. “As far as anyone else is concerned, the baby is Hale’s and the mother’s not involved. End of story.”
I supposed the press would have a field day if they suspected any sort of scandal involving the Davenports. “What if the baby looks nothing like him?”
“She will.” There was that god complex again.
I rolled my eyes. “How can you be so sure?”
He leveled me with those silver eyes. “Because the baby’s mine.”
Chapter Twenty
Where is Archie Bunker When You Need Him?
My footsteps echoed over the marble as I marched to the office and flung open the door. “It’s your father’s?”
“I’ll call you back.” Hale hung up the phone and stood, shutting the office door. “He said he was going to have a talk with you about discretion.”
Contrite, I covered my mouth. “Sorry.” Then I hissed, “Your fucking dad’s the father?”
He took my hands and led me to the settee. Once we were both seated, he let out a deep breath. “Yes.”
I shook my head. “How does that even happen? I mean, how are you two still working together and why the hell isn’t he taking responsibility?” I had a lot of questions.
Hale sighed, and for once I saw a flash of stress in his eyes. “Jasmine and I weren’t serious.”
“But you were sleeping together.”
“We have a past, yes.”
Ew. What was wrong with this family? “I don’t think I can look at your dad for a while.” If ever again.
Hale held up a hand. “Understandable, but I need you to get over this as quickly as possible. We’re past it and my anger’s been resolved.”
“Really? How is that, Hale? Because he did something…” Words failed me. “…to his son’s girlfriend and something really not nice to his son. And now you’re going to be a parent. In what universe does that deflate anger?”
“First, she’s not my girlfriend. You’re my girlfriend.”
Stalker. “No, I’m not.” Single people upgraded to girlfriend-boyfriend status. This man was so not single at the moment.
“We’ll get to that. Second, I don’t care who the father is. That baby is my family. I know what would have happened if Remington had had his say.”
Oh. Too much reality. Now, I was starting to connect the dots.
The most upsetting part of all of this was the poor impression of Remington it was leaving. Why couldn’t he just be a grumpy old billionaire? Damn men and their penises!
“My dad’s old, Rayne. He just had a heart attack and took a spill. He is in no shape to raise a child. He was done having children twenty years ago. He would have paid her off to make it go away.”
“So he just gets a pass?” That was bullshit. “What about the kid? What about when she asks about her dad and wants to know where the hell he is and why he didn’t want her—”
“She’ll have a father. Me. Look, I know this isn’t an ideal situation, but it’s what I’ve decided. I’m not changing my mind.”
“You might. Then what?”
“I won’t. I’m not someone who enters into any situation lightly.”
This was crazy. “What about the mother? You’re just going to force her out of the baby’s life?”
“No one is being forced anywhere. She came to Remington to tell him about her predicament, knowing he’d send her to the nicest clinic, followed by an all-expense paid vacation as she recuperated. No one wanted this baby.”
My heart broke as the words left his mouth. “Why?”
I couldn’t help wondering if I was once that baby, unwanted, a consequence that could simply get washed away.
“Because it was conceived when Rachel was still alive.”
Something ugly settled in my stomach and I couldn’t escape the nausea it brought. “But your dad loved Rachel.”
“Yes, very much.”
“I don’t understand any of this. Why would he cheat on a wife he loved?” He should have his tally-whacker cut off. “How can no one take responsibility for an innocent child?”
“I’m taking responsibility.”
I hadn’t realized I was crying until I looked up and my vision blurred. There were good men, shitty men, honorable men, and dishonest men, but I had never met a man willing to do what Hale was doing.
It was a lot, changing his entire life and future for a child that wasn’t his and no one else wanted. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Just listen. I know this isn’t what you expected, but I can’t control the timing. I had to pay Jasmine off just so she’d keep the pregnancy. In two weeks my free time is going to be cut down by half. My dad isn’t going to be able to depend on me to help him with personal care and I just beat up his male PA. Right now, I need you to go through these applications and pick three candidates for the job. If you could help me with that, I’d really appreciate it.”
“You beat up Eric?”
He cocked his head and gave me a skeptical look. “Did you think I’d just stand there after someone insulted my girl?”
My chin trembled as I looked at him, wondering how it was this incredible guy actually liked me enough to literally fight for me.
Wiping my eyes, I muttered, “You make it really hard, Davenport.”
“What do you mean?”
He laughed and gave me a shoulder bump. “I can be an asshole. I’m sure you’ll see that side of me eventually, but right now I’m trying really hard to impress you.”
Sniffling, I chuckled. “Give me the damn resumes.”
He stood and grabbed a pile of papers off his desk. “These are the most recent.”
I sank a little under the weight of the pile. “Holy crap.”
“We need to make sure they understand there will be some light…personal care involved until he gets his cast off.”
“Okay.”
“And Rayne?”
I turned back to face him, still shaken from the emotional rollercoaster I’d been on. “Yeah.”
“Don’t make plans tonight. I’m taking you out to dinner.”
I smiled, a thousand girlie emotions cutting loose in my belly. No matter how I tried to avoid it, I was back on team Hale. Now, what did I know about babies?
****
After I chose a few candidates, Remington reviewed my selection. “Pendleton’s on this list.”
Though I had no choice but to talk to my boss, I kept my focus on other objects around the room. “Was there really anything wrong with Miles, Remington?”
He grunted. “Seems only fair you invite the other one back, too.”
“Hale said it should be a guy.”
Remington scoffed. “He’s trying to punish me.”
“Do you really want a woman like Cadence in the same room with you when all your assets are exposed?”
“Point taken, Meyers. This list looks fine. Call them and see who can get here by tomorrow. Anyone who can’t move that fast doesn’t want the job.”
I made the calls and was happy that Miles could make it. I felt really bad about out-performing him in the last interview.
Hale showed me how to set up an account with the airport so that each candidate could make his own arrangements at Remington’s expense. I’m not going to lie, I felt super important making those calls and thought about investing in a clipboard. Possibly a woman’s power suit.
Once my workday was done, I left Remington to Alfonse’s care. Alfonse was the groundskeeper, but he did other things when needed.
I had a ten-minute mental debate as I eyed my razor in the shower. It was hot in Florida, so shaving was unavoidable, but there was a distinct difference between an everyday shave and a date shave. Was this a date? And was my pubic hair treading on retro territory?
I didn’t want to look like I walked off the set of a seventies porn shoot. But on the other hand, beards were in. Maybe that implied other furry throwbacks.
Not having a clue, I reached out of the shower, grabbed my phone, and texted Elle.
Bush—hairy or bald?
Her response came immediately.
Ew! Always shaved! No guy wants to make out with a wookie!
I threw my phone on a pile of towels and got to work. Dear Lord, there was a lot of hair coming off. I mean, sweet Jesus, it was like thinning out the African Congo!
Mental note, buy a new razor.
“Well, that was exhausting,” I muttered, stepping out of the steamy bathroom.
My phone was full of texts from Elle, questioning why I’d shave my vagina if I wasn’t having sex anymore. Maybe I just liked to be up on my labial fashion.
I didn’t have an answer because I still wasn’t sure if this was a date or an olive branch or something in between. The whole Hale saga just got a thousand times more complicated and I hadn’t figured anything out by the time I heard his voice in the house.
Giving up on my hair, I grabbed my purse and went to find him. Once again, I was underdressed. My steps staggered as I spotted Hale looking like Don Draper’s sexier twin in a three-piece suit.
“You’re dressed up.”
He smiled and walked over to me. “You look beautiful. Is that a new dress?”
Yes, and I paid twelve dollars for it. “I look like a hippie and you look like a Rockefeller.”
“I think you look perfect.”
Frowning, I mentally skimmed over my new wardrobe. “I have a different dress…” It wasn’t formal, but it was darker.
Hale chuckled. “What you’re wearing is fine. If you’re worried—” He took off his jacket and vest and folded them over the banister. “There. Now, no one’s overdressed.”
I smiled. It was the simplest solution and very considerate of him. “Thanks.”
He took my hand and walked me to the door. I hesitated. Remington was watching television and I felt like I should ask if he needed anything before we left, though I was still avoiding him.
“He’s fine. Come on.”
Hale opened my door and I fidgeted as I waited for him to get in the car. He smelled really good and I wanted to rub up against him, but I wasn’t sure if that was proper.
When he started the car I blurted, “Is this a date?”
He grinned and backed out of the driveway. “This is a date.”
“Oh. Okay.” Now that we had that cleared up I felt better. “Where are we going?”
“Louie’s.”
“Who’s Louie?”
“Louie’s is a restaurant, not a person.”
“Oh. Well, I’m sure they named it after someone.”
His fingers caught mine as his thumb rubbed over my knuckles. “You seem nervous. It’s just us.”
Right. But I wasn’t sure if this was the us who had wild monkey sex or the us who sometimes worked together or the us who avoided casual conversations about secret illegitimate children.
“I know. I’m just a little…you know.”
He laughed. “A little what?”
“I don’t know. I have the sex jitters. But maybe we aren’t having sex and I just have gas. Oh, God. Never mind. Pretend I didn’t just say that—where are you going?”
He turned the car around right in the middle of traffic and doubled his speed. “My place.”
“What about dinner? Slow down!”
“We’ll go there after.” He tapped the wheel as he anxiously waited for the traffic light to turn green.
“After what?”
“Sex.” The light changed and he turned, speeding in the direction of his house.
He tore into his driveway and threw the car into park. Before I even had time to unearth my death grip from the dashboard he was on me, unbuckling my seatbelt and sending my seat into a reclined position.
I laughed against his mouth as his hand went up my dress and dipped into the front of my panties.
“Hale! We’re in a car!”
“I don’t care. I’ve been dying to touch you for days.”
My body rapidly responded the second he grazed my clit. I moaned and pulled him over me, but the stupid cup holder was in the way. His fingers delved between my thighs and I arched. The clank of his belt buckle rattled against the wood interior as he caught my hand and brought it to his body.
Heated, hard flesh filled my grip as he thrust into my palm and sighed into my mouth. “God, Rayne…I was so afraid I was losing you.”
His lips worked over my shoulder as my dress was pushed to my waist. My bra came down and his warm mouth closed over my nipple. Dear Lord, I missed this! His fingers and mouth were relentless and soon I was coming right on his Rolls Royce leather seats.
Sending his seat back, he pulled out a condom and rolled it over his length. I giggled, because he must have literally had one up his sleeve, it appeared so fast.
Catching me by the ribs, he hauled me to his lap and the horn blew. “Shit.” He pulled the seat back some more and my knees fit beside his hips.
“I’ve never had sex this way,” I warned.
“In a car?”
“That too.”
Leaning forward, he cupped the back of my head and drew me in for a kiss as he lined his body up with m
ine. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”
As he pressed upward, I caught my breath and rasped, “I missed you too.” He filled my body and I sighed with pleasure.
But it wasn’t just the sex I missed. I missed our closeness. I missed making him crack a smile and the special moments I actually got him to laugh. I missed hearing his voice and the way he looked in my eyes. But most of all I missed that important way he made me feel. To Hale, I mattered, and that meant something I hadn’t yet defined.
“It’s not just the incredible sex,” he murmured, echoing my thoughts. “It’s like you’re my clarity, my peace of mind. I know that’s crazy because we only just met, but when you’re gone I feel like part of my world is missing.”
I sort of felt the same, but different. Hale was so monumental to my every thought, our relationship scared the shit out of me on a regular basis. But I was working on my issues and trying to get past my bullshit. The sex was definitely helping.
My hands caught his shoulders as I sank lower. Jesus, he was deep. If I opened my mouth wide enough, he might see the top of his penis.
“Is this okay?”
I nodded, my skin beading with sweat. “Yeah, just really, really… in there.”
He chuckled. “Just the way I like it.”
His hand cupped my ass as his other one held my neck, and he stared into my eyes, slowly guiding me over him. Our breath mingled as he penetrated even deeper. This was a very intimate position, one that couldn’t be rushed.
He kissed me slowly, softly, and I wondered how I’d ever given up such tenderness. The more I considered all the feelings trapped inside, the more they wanted to get out. My body shook as he struck a nerve and we came together in every sense of the word.
Panting, holding each other through our damp clothes, we stared and smiled. I was falling in lo—
Wait. No. Scratch that thought. Way too soon.
I wasn’t in love with him. I couldn’t be. He was having a baby and we met a little over a week ago. But as I looked into his eyes, I knew this was more than a heavy like. There had to be a word for that. I desperately wanted to know if he felt the same.
His lips found mine as he pulled me close and held me tight. This man beat someone up for me. That was crazy. Shit like that didn’t happen. I wasn’t a fan of violence, but I also wasn’t a fan of douchebags that made women cry. Part of me was pissed I’d missed it.