Doug was afraid to break the silence. After a while, Tate finally spoke. “You’re moving to Tampa, aren’t you?”
Doug swallowed hard. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
In the dim light, Doug couldn’t see Tate’s expression. “I had a feeling,” he softly said.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to, but this job—”
“It’s okay.” In the darkness, Tate found and squeezed his hand. “You need to do what you need to do for your folks. I understand.”
Doug felt even worse, if it was possible. “I don’t want you to lose this opportunity, either.”
“I know.” Tate went silent for so long, Doug thought maybe he’d fallen asleep. “Just tell me the truth. Is there anyone else now?”
“No,” Doug said, his voice nearly breaking up as he choked back tears. “I love you.”
Tate let out a sad sigh. “Okay.” He patted Doug’s arm. “Friends with bennies then, for now?”
Doug kissed the back of his neck. “Okay.”
* * * *
Tate had suspected this was coming. If it hadn’t been for Doug’s family’s problems, he knew it would have gone differently. Tate couldn’t blame him. Put in the same position, he might have made the same choice.
He couldn’t fault Doug for wanting to help them, even if it broke his heart in the process.
They made love again before falling asleep. The next morning, after their shower and breakfast, Tate helped Doug pack and load his car. Before Doug left, they hugged.
“I’m always going to love you,” Tate softly said. “And if there’s ever a chance, I want it.”
He heard the sorrow in Doug’s voice. “Me too, babe.”
They kissed one last time before Doug finally climbed into his car and left. Tate watched him until he pulled out of their apartment complex.
One day, he thought. One day, I’m going to come after you.
He just hoped that day would be sooner rather than later.
Chapter Eleven
Three weeks into Doug’s employment, Harper had an assignment for him. She called him into her office on a Monday morning. “You’re going to a conference in Miami with me this week. We’ll leave late Wednesday afternoon, and stay over Wednesday and Thursday nights. Make sure to pack business casual for the meetings, and a swim suit for the hotel, if you want.”
He was ready to go Wednesday afternoon, on time as usual. She’d brought her travel bag with her, and hid a soft cooler in her suitcase with ice packs in it for her medication. Her room would have a fridge in it, and since they weren’t sharing a room, she didn’t need to worry about him discovering her secret.
He put his bags in the trunk of her Mustang, and she climbed behind the wheel. “I hope you don’t mind my driving music.” She thumbed through her iPod and found her playlist, a mix of everything from Warren Zevon to Aerosmith, Seether to Adele.
She couldn’t read his expression through his dark sunglasses. “I like a lot of different kinds of music.”
“Good. Then we’ll get along just fine.” She took the Crosstown Expressway east to I-75, then headed south. She would take Alligator Alley and then hop onto the Florida Turnpike. They’d reach Miami in a little under four hours, in time to grab dinner there.
She hadn’t had too many opportunities to just sit and chat with Doug. She wanted to learn more about him, become genuine friends with him, and not just have a working relationship. “Were you raised here in Tampa?”
He nodded as he stared ahead at the road. “Born and raised here. You?”
“Close enough. Born and raised in Tarpon Springs and in Tampa.” She didn’t want to force the issue, but she was finding herself quickly running out of small talk. Of course, she knew she was no master of that skill in the first place, unless it had to do with business. “So, what are your hobbies, what do you like to do in your spare time?”
* * * *
Is she kidding? Spare time? What the hell is that? He hadn’t had much resembling spare time. He’d been too busy taking stuff home to work on, information about the company Gorden gave him to study. He shrugged. “I like to read. I used to play amateur hockey, but I had to sell my equipment. I didn’t have time or money to do it anymore while I was in school.”
“I love hockey. Go Bolts!” She laughed. “I have season tickets. On the glass. My dad really isn’t into it, so I’m usually trying to give away the extra or I end up going alone.”
“I’d like to go.” Sports, good, a safe topic. He prayed she didn’t ask him about relationships. He didn’t want to tell any more lies than the ones he already had.
Well, not lies, exactly. One lie, and a whole lot of omissions.
Who am I kidding? She finds out, she’ll can me.
They discussed music and reading and movies. The longer they talked, the easier it was for him to settle in and see her as a person, not as his rich boss who wanted him to play her boyfriend. By the time they stopped for gas in Ft. Myers, she had him laughing at her dry humor.
He realized he was having fun.
As they rolled across the desolate expanse of Alligator Alley, he studied her profile as she drove. He’d asked her a work-related question, and couldn’t help but notice the instant change in her demeanor. She was all business, knew her stuff.
It wasn’t hard to see why she’d managed to secure herself the top position in the company. It wasn’t because her father’s name was on the letterhead. She’d definitely earned it.
And anyone who forgot that would most likely get their head handed back to them.
In his short time at the company, the people he’d interacted with besides Gorden loved working for Harper. They all agreed she could be one tough bitch, but that she treated her employees and customers fairly.
He also suspected that, with the exception of Gorden and her father, she had no one she let her guard down around.
He felt sorry for her. He had a loving family he could turn to. Harper had walled herself off, perhaps in some ways justifiably considering her business dynamics, and didn’t seem to know how to let anyone in. When he’d asked Gorden about screening her calls, if there were any friends or family who took priority other than her father, he’d shaken his head and told Doug there wasn’t anyone.
If nothing else, he decided he would be that person for her. He wouldn’t let her down. He would show her she could trust him.
Maybe that would, in some small way, atone for how shitty he felt about himself and what he’d done to Tate.
* * * *
She liked talking with Doug. He was a good listener, but he could also hold up his end of a conversation without “yes, ma’aming” her repeatedly. He wasn’t afraid to disagree with her.
He was funny and smart and personable, and she was glad to find that she liked him.
She only hoped he liked her as much. For her, and not for the security this job afforded him and his family.
Only time would tell.
She knew she’d have to tell him her secret eventually. Intellectually, she knew most people wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about her diabetes. Still, she’d grown up learning that in business, you don’t let people see your weakness. It was bad enough being teased about it in high school.
She swore she’d never let that happen again.
As a young woman not even thirty, she was already swimming upstream against their biggest competitors who would seize any advantage, real or imagined, to leverage against her. As her father had drilled into her at a young age when it came to business, show no weakness.
They had dinner at a small Cuban restaurant across the street from the hotel. By the time they returned to their rooms for the evening, Harper was convinced she’d made the right choice hiring Doug. If nothing else, the time they’d spent together that day showed her they could at least become good friends.
The next morning, he accompanied her to their meetings, paid attention, and asked intelligent questions of her during the breaks that showed her he was not only p
aying attention, but that he’d been doing his homework about their company. Gorden was a good teacher, but Doug was proving to be an even better student. By the time they headed out for dinner that night at a restaurant over on Miami Beach, Harper felt at ease with Doug.
The restaurant had a live band playing on the patio, and several couples were dancing to the sultry Latin beat.
Doug looked at her after they’d placed their orders. “Want to dance?”
She did, but his question almost spooked her. She’d been watching the couples with longing, wishing she could be out there, carefree and enjoying herself. “Really?”
* * * *
He wanted to laugh at the look on her face. Like she couldn’t believe he wanted to dance with her.
I wonder if she was a wallflower in high school. “Yeah, really. You look like you want to dance.”
He knew he didn’t imagine the blush that filled her cheeks. “I’m not a good dancer.”
“Good.” He stood and held out his hand. “Neither am I. I stink at it. I’ll make you look good.”
He finally coaxed her out onto the dance floor. She felt right in his arms as they swayed around the floor to a poorly done rendition of a Carlos Santana song. “See? Nothing to it,” he said.
“I didn’t even dance at my senior prom,” she softly admitted.
“Why?”
She shrugged. “No date. I couldn’t bring myself to go out there and dance alone like some of the other kids. It was all I could do to make myself go stag.” She looked up at him. “I’m not making an ass out of myself right now, am I?”
“No. You’re not.”
* * * *
She’d meant about opening herself up to him a little, revealing some of her past. He’d rightfully assumed she meant about her technique.
That was okay by her. She needed practice being with someone, and Doug was the logical candidate.
They danced a few more times by the time they finished their dinner. He was a gentleman, offered his arm to her as he walked her to her room. When they stopped at her room door, she didn’t want to let go of him. He was handsome, nice, and intelligent.
“Well, thank you for a very nice evening,” she finally managed so she wouldn’t look like a total idiot standing there.
I could stare into his brown eyes all night long.
He offered her a playful smile that melted her panties. “Well, thank you, Harper. You’re the one that picked up the check.” He blushed a little. “I’m not a mooch, I want to make that clear.”
Dammit, she wanted to kiss him. Really wanted to kiss him. “It’s okay,” she reassured him. “This was a business dinner.” She promptly kicked herself in the ass. It was more than that, who was she kidding? “Knock at seven in the morning, so we can go grab some breakfast?”
“I’d like that.” He seemed to pause, as if hesitant to leave.
Kiss him. Kiss him, you stupid bitch.
She couldn’t force her body to move. She fumbled her room key out of her pocket and managed to get her door open. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning.”
He nodded. “In the morning.” She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, then waited until she heard his door open and close next door. She leaned against the door and smiled. He was so sweet.
She started for her bed when she spotted the mini fridge and groaned. She needed to check her sugar. Finally, after doing it and completing her bedtime routine, she slipped under the covers, closed her eyes, and replayed how nice it felt being in Doug’s arms.
* * * *
Doug dropped his clothes on the floor and climbed into bed with the TV remote. He’d enjoyed himself way more than he wanted to admit. At one point, he was glad their dance had ended because he was afraid she’d feel the hard-on struggling for release. She felt good in his arms, as if made for him.
She was also a much better dancer than she claimed to be, although he suspected she really thought she sucked at it.
He didn’t want to think about Tate tonight. He wanted to close his eyes and think about Harper. Because he knew in his soul that’s where his future lay, even if she’d bought him to ensure it.
Tonight, however, despite how badly he felt about Tate, and how much he missed him, he realized he didn’t mind Harper being the focus of his immediate future.
No, I don’t mind at all.
* * * *
By the end of their meetings that week, Harper knew she could call Doug a friend. While she still hadn’t revealed her diabetes to him, she had opened up to him a little. He talked about his family. She loved hearing stories about him growing up with his sisters. As an only child, despite her close relationship with Gorden’s kids, it wasn’t the same as having her own flesh-and-blood siblings.
She even let Doug drive her car back to Tampa. She enjoyed the smile on his face as she encouraged him to open it up on I-75. “You only live once, right? Go ahead,” she said. “Enjoy it. That’s why I bought it, to drive it and have fun. Don’t baby it.”
“Why not get a Mercedes?”
She shrugged. “I wanted a Mustang. Always promised myself growing up I’d buy myself one, and that’s what I did.” She realized she could relax with him driving, something that rarely happened when someone other than her father or Gorden was driving.
She settled back in her seat. “This was fun. Thank you for coming with me.”
“I enjoyed it.” He smiled. “Do we get to do this a lot?”
“Once a month at least. Before you know it, we’ll be getting you over to my dad’s house on Boca for weekend fishing trips. I hope you don’t get seasick.”
“Not usually, but I haven’t been out on a boat much.”
“No problem. My dad will be happy to teach you the basics.”
“Do you think he’s going to buy this act?”
They hadn’t spoken about their contract at all until now. “I think,” she said, “that he’ll keep his mouth shut.”
At least, I hope he will!
Chapter Twelve
Doug settled into the job. As his knowledge grew, so did his duties. He was already going to meetings on his own without Gorden there holding his hand. One Tuesday afternoon, Harper knocked on Doug’s open doorway.
He looked up from his computer. “Hey.”
She stepped in and closed the door behind her. “Any plans for tonight?”
“No, why?”
“I want you to accompany me to a Chamber of Commerce meet and greet after work. Starts at seven o’clock, so we need to leave here by six thirty.”
“Do I need to change clothes?”
“Nope, you look fine. We’ll leave from here.” She grinned. “Your first chance to get out and meet people. Time to plant the first seeds. You’ve been working here over four weeks. Time to start showing you around.”
He smiled. She couldn’t get over how sad he sometimes looked. She wished she could walk over and hug him and make him feel better. He was such a sweet guy.
“What about dinner?” he asked.
“We’ll eat there. Lots of goodies to suck up. Cash bar, though.”
He shrugged. “I’m not much of a drinker.”
“Yet another thing I like about you. We’ll take your car.” When he gave her a quizzical look, she added, “I want people to see me getting out of your car.”
“You don’t think that’s giving people too much credit to notice something like that?”
“You have no idea. The speed of gossip in this group is pretty much the same amount of time it takes people to start bitching about Facebook changes. I have no doubts my father will ‘coincidentally’ drop by tomorrow to check in. ‘And, oh by the way, guess what so-and-so called me today and told me.’” She laughed. “And it’ll make it even better when Rebecca Castor starts trying to feel you up after she’s had a few appletinis and I elbow her out of the way.”
That earned her a genuine laugh from Doug. “Sounds like I need hockey gear to survive this.”
“Don
’t worry. I’m a damn good goon. I’ll protect you.” She left the office to the sound of his laughter. She liked that she could make him laugh. That was good, especially since he’d seemed so sad the past couple of weeks.
He was ready to go a few minutes early. She also liked that about him, that he didn’t keep her waiting, yet he wasn’t trying to suck up by beating her to work by an hour. They rode the elevator down to the parking garage in companionable silence.
Yet another thing she liked about him, that he didn’t nervously chatter to fill dead air. He talked and asked questions if needed, but he didn’t have to.
He had a soothing presence to him, a calming presence she also relished. Gorden gave her the same feeling of serenity.
She told him where to go, a clubhouse at a ritzy golf club in New Tampa. They walked in together, and she immediately felt swarmed upon by people. She reflexively grabbed Doug’s elbow, and he offered no complaint or resistance as she steered him around the room and through the throngs of people.
* * * *
Doug couldn’t help but notice how Harper’s anxiety ratcheted up from the moment they walked through the door and she was besieged by people. It startled him at first. Then, as she grabbed his arm, he realized another role he was playing for her whether she’d admit it or not.
I’m her security blanket.
He didn’t mind. He liked being useful like that to her. It made him feel less like a lying shit. After their first circuit of the room and making a run at the buffet table, they found a relatively unoccupied corner.
“So,” he said, “how many of those people are hoping for donations from you to their favorite charities?”
She snickered around her carrot stick. That was another thing he liked about her, that she took care of herself and ate healthy but wasn’t some sort of proselytizing bitch about it with everyone else. “Bingo.”
Dalton, Tymber - Contractual Obligation (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 8
