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Deliciously Damaged

Page 23

by Winters, KB


  A little bubble of hope rose up in my mind, the feeling my ticket to freedom was close.

  “But, that being said, I can’t risk making Mr. Brighton lose his faith, fragile though it may be, in what we have here because if he goes, so do his millions of dollars in advertising. And, he wants you to run things. Possibly you learned a valuable lesson about knowing when to interject, and when to remain silent. Your words can get you into a lot of trouble.”

  That last shred of hope I had been clinging to washed away from underneath me at her scolding. I knew I deserved it. Keeping my mouth in check had never been a strong suit. But having her lecture me only made me want to rebel even more—until I remembered the paycheck.

  “In other words, Allison, your talents and skills are on loan to Mr. Brighton until he says otherwise.” Her expression did not change but a shimmer in her eyes gave away her delight at resigning me to Mr. Brighton’s will.

  “Understood,” I said, once I was sure she was done speaking. I rose from my seat, preparing to leave.

  “One more thing,” Rita continued, right as I set my hand on the doorknob.

  I turned back to face her. This time she did smile.

  Oh, shit.

  “Mr. Brighton has requested our presence tonight at a company event for Plush. The official launch of their fall line, I believe. I trust you will be able to rearrange your schedule in order to attend.”

  I felt my hand involuntarily ball into a fist. The voice in my head rattled off a quick speech that started with a “fuck this” and ended with an “I quit”, but I reined it in and tried to focus on the fact that if I did that, I would likely cost Bryce his job as well and that wasn’t something I wanted to be responsible for.

  “That won’t be a problem,” I answered, through gritted teeth.

  “Excellent. Do keep in mind that even though it is a private event, you will be representing our company tonight, so please adhere to the black tie dress code and don’t abuse the open bar.” She smiled sweetly at me and folded her hands atop her desk.

  My nails were cutting into my palm and it took every last shred of self-control to turn and leave the room without flinging myself across her desk and sinking them into her skin instead.

  I stormed back to my desk and saw Bryce perched on the edge of it. He reared back at my entrance. “What the hell happened to you? You look like you’re ready to explode.”

  “That pretty much sums it up. Listen, I’ve got to get out of here. If Rita asks where I went, just tell her Cinderella had to go get ready for the ball.”

  “Cinderella? The ball?” Bryce’s eyebrows creased. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “Never mind. Just cover for me, okay?”

  “Okay. See you tomorrow,” he answered. “Have fun at the, uh, ball.”

  “Oh, it’s going to be delightful.”

  Chapter Six

  By the time I got home, ravaged my closets, and subsequently came to the conclusion that I had nothing suitable to wear, I had less than two hours to get to the event. It would actually be helpful if my sarcastic comparison to Cinderella came true and a fairy godmother would come to rescue me. At least then I’d have a killer dress and proper transportation. I checked my bank account balance online and sighed at the numbers staring back at me. Pitiful.

  Short on time and cash, I decided the best plan would be to hit up the consignment shop two blocks down from my apartment. Before leaving, I sent out an SOS text to one of my friends, Hannah, begging her to meet me at the shop. Most of the girls I knew were girlfriends of the bikers who hang out in the same bars I do on the weekends. I’d met Hannah a couple years back. She had been dating a guy named Lou, and we hit it off. Lou and her ended not too long after that, but we managed to stay in contact. Hannah had a Hollywood glamour vibe to her, and I knew she’d know what to wear to something like this and she’s great with hair too.

  I darted from my apartment, hauled ass down to the shop and was frantically digging through the jam-packed clothing racks when I heard Hannah’s voice ring out across the shop. “Allie!”

  We embraced quickly. “Thanks for coming. I know I sound like a total crazy person.”

  “Well, yeah. What are you trying to do? Your text said something about a black toe party? I know you hang with some sketchy people, but what the hell?”

  “Black toe?”

  She dug out her phone and showed me the text. I started to laugh. “Black tie! It was supposed to say a black tie party.”

  Hannah looked at the screen and then back at me and started to giggle. “You know, it’s pretty sad that I honestly didn’t even consider that it was autocorrect gone horribly wrong. I really thought it was something to do with toes! I was picturing…well, never mind, you don’t even want to know. Anyways, I raced down here to save you!”

  “Holy shit, Han, my friends aren’t that bad!” I said after I caught my breath from laughing so hard. I held my stomach and explained the actual reason I needed her help.

  “Man, I don’t see you for two weeks and all hell breaks loose.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “So when you say this dude’s hot, like how hot?” Her eyes were sparkling with interest as she begged. “I haven’t gotten any in way too long, so I need all the yummy details.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “He’s crazy, stupid hot. But that’s not the point! Hannah, he’s also arrogant, cold, and a complete control freak!”

  “I bet you could loosen him right up,” she said, throwing me a wink. “I can’t believe you didn’t go out with him! Come on, a hot, rich guy wants to take you out to a fancy dinner and you said no? You should have at least gone to get a free steak—err salad— out of the deal—or whatever it is you vegetarian people eat.”

  “Hannah, focus!” I flipped my phone on to check the time. Less than two hours now.

  “All right, all right. What do you need my help with?” She started picking through the racks of clothes, as if just realizing she was in a clothing store. “If you don’t give a shit about this guy, then why is it so important that you look all sexy tonight? That’s only going to make him chase you more and you know it! Haha! I was right, you do want him!”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m dying to be another one of his bimbo models he won’t even remember in a week. The only reason I’m playing his game is because the sooner I get this job done, the sooner I can go back to my real job, and get him and his drama out of my life. So if that means playing dress up for a night, so be it. Now, are you going to help me or not?”

  Hannah studied me for a moment, her eyes narrowed with consideration.

  “Please?”

  She laughed. “Of course I’ll help you, but I’m still keeping my money on you two knockin’ boots before this is all over.”

  “Noted. Now what about this one?” I held up a long-sleeved, floor length, deep navy dress for her to inspect.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe if you were my grandmother. What’s with the sleeves?”

  I hung the dress back up. “I have to wear sleeves to cover my tats. I don’t think they would go over too well with this crowd.”

  “Hmmm.” She nodded and dug back into the rack she was standing by. “What about this, then?”

  She held up a short, black cocktail dress. The dress itself was strapless, but it had a separate wrap that I could wear over the top that would cover my arms and shoulders but still show off a small panel of skin on my back, adding a little extra flair to an otherwise simple look.

  “With your hair curled, some red lipstick, and black-winged eyeliner,” Hannah explained. “You’ll be a knockout.”

  I flipped over the tag, surprised to see it was only thirty-eight dollars. “Sold!”

  We raced through the check-out process and went back to my apartment where Hannah effortlessly applied my makeup and gave my normally sleek, black hair some soft, natural looking curls. I slipped into the dress, making sure all my ink was covered, and did a final twirl in the mirror.
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  “Thanks again, Hannah. You’re a lifesaver. Way better than any fairy godmother!” I waved as we both parted ways in front of my apartment building as she went left and I went right.

  “Stay out of trouble tonight!” She waved back.

  I strode down the street, knowing that if anyone was going to be in trouble tonight, it was going to be Mr. Brighton. If I got a chance alone with him—and there was a 99.9% chance of that happening—I was going to make sure he knew exactly what I thought of him and his carcinogenic product line. Once he knew how I really felt about his products, maybe then he’d realize I’m not the right girl for the job after all and this nightmare could finally end.

  ***

  I made my fashionably late—thanks to my screwy GPS system—entrance about twenty minutes into the event. I was escorted to a front table and seated just as Mr. Brighton was introduced and brought out on stage to give his presentation. I nursed a cocktail and tapped my fingernails along the edge of the table, unable to contain my irritation.

  “Good evening. Thank you all for being here with me to celebrate the launch of the Plush fall collection. This company was my father’s creation, and I would hope that he would be proud of this latest reincarnation if he were here to see it.”

  His father died? At least that’s how it sounded. I stopped tapping the table and leaned forward to focus on his face as he spoke. The arrogant cloud I was so used to seeing around him seemed to have vanished, for once. He looked humbled and authentic. I had expected his suit and tie persona to be magnified when all eyes were on him. It threw me off to see him like this.

  “I want to thank all of you here tonight for being a part of this company and for helping my father’s legacy to grow and evolve. Thank you. I won’t bore you all with a lengthy speech. Just please enjoy yourselves.”

  He nodded at the crowd and right as he turned to exit the stage, his eyes met mine and he froze, offering a warm smile. My stomach dropped and my heart started doing double-time. I smiled back and then dropped my gaze to the table in front of me. I didn’t have to see him to know that he was headed in my direction. Something about the air, the room, told me he was getting closer. However, when I finally dared to look up, he was gone.

  “Good evening, Miss Rand,” his voice purred in my ear. I jolted upright in my seat and whipped around to find him seated next to me.

  I hated how jittery I felt, being so close to him, but I couldn’t help it. He overwhelmed me. He smelled like heaven and the warmth of his body radiated from him and seemed to engulf me, even though we weren’t touching. I sat back in my chair, hoping some physical distance would help me to think more clearly.

  “Allison is fine, Mr. Brighton.”

  “Please, call me Cooper. I don’t like all this formality between us. You know, I’m not a bad guy, once you get to know me.” He smiled at me. “I’m not sure how we got off on such bad footing with each other.”

  All my bad-ass chick façade failed me in that very moment and I found myself totally speechless.

  He laughed softly before saying, “All right, I get it, you’re not interested. You can’t blame me for trying. I’ve never met anyone like you before. You have me quite puzzled, Allison.”

  I tried to resist, but damn it—I loved the way he said my name.

  “And why is that? What exactly is so puzzling about me? That I have a brain, and opinions?” I asked, trying to inject some of my previous feistiness back into my voice. “I’ve heard that isn’t something you normally go for.”

  He leaned back in his chair and his smile faded away. “Why do you detest me so much?” He scoffed. “Have I offended you in some way?”

  “You haven’t done anything to offend me—and you won’t, because I won’t let you. I know all about guys like you. And from what I’ve heard, I can tell you that we wouldn’t make a good match, so you’re wasting your time by trying to charm me. I’m not impressed. I don’t do rich, playboy types for a reason.”

  “And this is based on what? Water cooler gossip? Excellent sources you have there, a bunch of bored secretaries and assistants inventing fiction about the people they wish they could be,” he fired back. “For the record, I was interested in you because you have a brain and opinions, not in spite of it.” With that said, he stood from the table and walked off. Several people nearby had probably overheard what he’d said and I could feel their eyes on me.

  I excused myself from the table and hurried to the restroom, where I barricaded myself in one of the stalls and waited for my heart to stop racing. I felt stupid and childish hiding in the bathroom, but I didn’t know what else to do. Once I calmed down, I made a quick make-up check at the mirror and opened the bathroom door. Cooper was waiting for me as soon as I stepped into the dimly lit hallway. I instantly backed up against the wall, my fingertips skimming the smooth surface as if anchoring me in place.

  “How did you know I would be here?”

  “Women always go to the restroom when they’re upset,” he said in a deep, husky voice. It sounded rougher than before and I had the distinct impression he’d had a drink or two before coming after me.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made a scene like that,” I said. “I’m sure you’re a nice enough guy, I’m just not interested in anyone right now. It’s really not personal. Well, okay, it is a little personal.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at me. “How so?”

  “You humiliated me in front of my boss, my second day on the job,” I hurried to explain. “You flew in there, guns blazing, and when you tried to label me as some dumb coffee girl, I had to fight back. It’s not in my nature to just take that kind of thing.”

  “Not anymore,” I added, after a beat.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Rand. I’d had a rough day. A rough year, to be more accurate.” He paused and dragged a hand through his thick, brown hair. “But you’re right, that wasn’t your fault, and I shouldn’t have taken out my frustration on you.”

  I wasn’t sure how to reply, so I shrugged.

  “So can we call an official cease-fire?” he asked, taking a step closer to me.

  “Listen,” I started, putting up a hand in between us. He was dangerously handsome in his suit, like all the James Bonds wrapped up into one delicious package. And I knew myself well enough to know that if I let myself get close enough to touch him, I wouldn’t stop. “Let’s just keep this professional. You do your job, let me do mine, and when everything is sorted out, you let me go back to what I’m supposed to be doing.”

  He closed the remaining space between us in one stride and braced himself with one hand on the wall above my head as he leaned in close to me. “And what if I don’t want to?”

  My breath caught in my chest as I struggled to keep from panting. “Don’t want to what Mr. Brighton?”

  He lowered his head before he answered, until his lips were just brushing the edge of my ear. “What if I don’t want to let you go?”

  The breath I had been holding, escaped in a sigh and before I could react, his lips were on mine in an aggressive, invasive, desperate kiss. I popped up in the tip-toes of my heels and let my body crash into his, my soft curves pressing against his firm body as the kiss deepened and became more frantic. His free hand worked up my back to the sliver of bare skin and underneath the thin fabric of the shrug. His fingertips were gentle on my skin, despite the roughness of his kiss. His lips left mine and began to trail back to my ear. I lay my head back against the wall, panting as he nibbled and sucked on my tender earlobe. A small moan escaped my lips and he responded by pressing me back against the wall and moving his lips lower on my neck. His hands started to pull at the shrug and the sensation of the soft fabric sliding down my shoulder was enough to jolt me back to consciousness. The panic of my secret being revealed was like a bucket of ice water over my head.

  “Let me go,” I said, not recognizing my own voice as it echoed down the empty hallway.

  Cooper instantly released me and backed away without a word, but when
his eyes found mine, they were wild with want.

  I ran my hands along my dress and shrug, making sure everything looked right, and more importantly, that my tattoos were covered.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.”

  “Why not?”

  I looked down the hallway for a second before bringing my eyes back to his. “I just can’t, please trust me.”

  He looked ready to argue but then his face shifted again and he nodded. He didn’t even bother to straighten his jacket or tie. My mind flashed back to replay the way he’d felt against me and a wave of heat slid down my stomach. I wished I could turn off my paranoid brain and just fling back into his arms, give myself over to the pleasure and the feeling of being wanted. He was intoxicating. But I knew that it would never be enough.

  “Let me walk you out,” he said, offering me his arm.

  “No need. I’ve kept you from your guests long enough. Goodnight, Mr. Brighton.”

  He opened his mouth to object but eventually just said, “Goodnight, Allison.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Did you hear what happened at the Plush launch party last night?”

  I sat up straighter in my seat. I had been slumped over the one of the break room tables for the better part of a half an hour, avoiding my email inbox, Rita, and Bryce—in that order. I’d almost left when the pack of secretaries made their entrance, not in the mood to listen to their chitter-chatter. But at the new topic, my ears perked up even as I felt my stomach drop, sure I knew what would be coming next.

  “No! Tell me!” another voice demanded.

  “Well, Becca was there on a date, some uber rich guy. Anyways, she told Jeannie, who told me, that Cooper Brighton was there totally making out with some chick outside the bathroom.”

  I stifled a laugh and settled for an eye roll instead. Sometimes, I felt like I slipped into a wormhole and ended up back in high school.

  “So what? He’s always with another woman. Every event he has some new hoochie.”

 

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