by Abby Niles
God, she was dead tired. Barely an hour of sleep would do that, she guessed. Not that she got much sleep on Wednesday nights to begin with, but she usually averaged enough to get her through most of Thursday without feeling like she couldn’t speak coherently. Unlike right now and it was barely eleven.
She’d been at the hospital with Faith until four-thirty this morning. The doctors had released her after running a few tests and finding nothing to be concerned about from the grand mal or the bump to the head.
The sleep-deprived part of her had almost won the “call in sick” battle. Fortunately, the responsible part started internally tallying her budget. A missed shift at the club and a hundred dollar E.R. copay meant she was in the red big time. Since she was still under the thirty day probation period here at Sutherland Investments, she didn’t have sick time. There was no way she could afford to lose two shifts of pay.
She kept her fingers crossed that one of the girls would give up her shift so Madison could make up the money. If one of them did, getting through today would be nothing like getting through tomorrow. But she’d do it.
She took a long gulp of her energy drink—her second of the day along with three cups of coffee. The excess in caffeine had given her the shakes but had done jack shit for waking her up.
Thankfully, Mr. Sutherland had been MIA this morning, so she hadn’t had to deal with his constantly empty coffee mug. Yes, she’d been hired to be his assistant. But every time that jerk called her into his office to make him a cup of coffee and then took it with a dismissive nod, she wished she’d poured the scalding hot liquid in his lap instead.
A soft chime came from the vicinity of the floor underneath her desk. Her purse! Worried that it may be Racheal trying to get ahold of her, she snatched it up and dug inside until she found her phone. After a grand mal, Faith usually slept most of the next day. The seizures took everything out of her. Madison hated that she was at work and not cuddled up with her daughter in bed, but she had no other choice right now.
Thankfully, the text wasn’t from Racheal. It was a missed text from Jasmine. You can work for me tonight, Lorelei. Adam said it was okay.
She quickly sent a message back thanking Jasmine as she blinked at the burning pricks that had suddenly attacked the back of her eyes. Why was she so disappointed? To top everything else off, she would miss all her shifts this weekend and next week too. She had to work tonight. If she didn’t, she’d truly be fucked by the end of the month when her rent came due.
Despite her best efforts, a single tear leaked out and ran down her cheek. She angrily swiped it away. Damn it. This was one of those go to the bathroom and cry days. Though she didn’t have time for that either. Maybe she’d allow herself a self-pity meltdown tonight while she showered as she got ready to leave for work, again.
Masculine laughter sounded down the hall, shocking her out of her weak moment. She tossed her phone back in her purse and wiped her face with her fingers, making sure no moisture remained.
“That was one hell of a gala you threw last night, Mica.” Mr. Sutherland’s voice was closer now, just a few feet outside her cubicle, which was right outside his office. “The crostini was amazing. From the wine to entertainment, I can tell you spared no expense, which is my kind of party.”
Had the man ever had to order off the dollar menu? Madison rolled her eyes, thankful for the distraction of her boss. Right now, she’d rather be annoyed with his spoiled comments than wallowing in her financial worries.
There was a moment of silence before her boss laughed again. “Oh, I never kiss and tell.”
Which socialite had he taken out last night? Victoria? Whitney? Natalie? There was a list of them a mile long. She should know. Apparently one of her job descriptions was scheduling limo pick-ups and romantic dinners at overpriced restaurants. All the women he went out with came from prestigious well-established families. Which wasn’t shocking since he was a Sutherland. The man had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth.
When she heard the soft click of his door, she waited. Three. Two. One.
“Miss Walker. Coffee,” came the demand she heard about fifteen times a day.
Closing her eyes, she clenched her jaw. Did he have someone to wipe his ass for him when he took a shit too? Shoving back her chair, she shot to her feet and strode the few feet to his office. As she opened the door, her anger spiked at the way he was leaned back in his expensive leather office chair, still laughing into his phone.
The man took everything in life for granted.
From what she’d learned about him and his background, he came from a huge oil tycoon family out of Texas. He’d had everything handed to him since he was born.
She stormed over to the space-aged contraption he called a coffee maker. It had taken ten tries her first day to get used to the stupid thing and make him the perfect cup. At least now, she could make the single cup, put in the exact amount of hazelnut creamer and a pinch of sugar within a few minutes.
As she waited for the cup to brew, she glanced over her shoulder at her boss. He’d hung up with whoever he’d been talking to and was looking at his computer now.
What a waste of good-looks.
And Jaxon Sutherland was eye-candy galore, reminding her very much of Alexander Skarsgard, minus the Swedish accent. The man filled out a suit with his broad shoulders and trim waist. Today he wore a dark gray pinstripe and a tie with a lighter smoky gray dress shirt and looked fine as hell. She’d unfortunately found herself wondering what lay beneath the expensive fabric a time or two.
Of course then he’d open his mouth and the fantasy was ruined.
If he’d just shut up so her mind could continue going down Naughty Lane. With two kids and two jobs, her social life was non-existent. She couldn’t remember the last date she’d been on…and sex? What the hell was that?
Dragging her gaze away, she removed the coffee cup then headed for his desk. As she handed it to him, he glanced up and their eyes met. As always, her insides ignited in an insane amount of fluttering considering who was in front of her. She blamed her constant reaction on the icy blue of his eyes. She’d never seen a color quite like it, almost like a robin’s egg.
As usual, he took the cup with a nod and turned back to his computer. She clenched her hands into fists and spun around. Jackass. What really pissed her off was noticing things like his stupid eyes and how good he looked in a suit. The man was nothing more than a spoiled brat. At some point, her disdain for him should outweigh his looks. So far, that hadn’t happened.
Just as she was halfway across the room, he said, “Miss Walker?”
She stopped herself from heaving a frustrated sigh and looked over her shoulder back at him, eyebrow raised in question.
He lifted the cup up, and without looking away from his computer screen, he said, “Thank you.”
Her mouth popped open. Like literally fell open. Words eluded her for a moment, then she strung together, “Uh, y-you’re welcome, Mr. Sutherland.”
As she turned back toward the door, a small smile came to her lips. Maybe he was teachable after all.
***
See? He could be nice.
Miss Walker’s lecture from yesterday had bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Though he really didn’t give a flying flip if he hurt someone’s feelings, that disapproving look she’d given him had bugged him—all goddamn night. So much so, he hadn’t even enjoyed Victoria’s attention. He ended up leaving the gala and taking her home early—much to his surprise, and her disappointment.
Why did he care so much about what Miss Walker thought? She wasn’t anything more than a secretary to him. Hell, she hadn’t even worked for him that long.
Maybe it was because he was Jaxon Sutherland. He wasn’t used to anyone looking at him with disapproval. Disdain maybe, fear sure, envy definitely, but open disapproval…never.
It didn’t sit well with him. Made him antsy. A feeling he wasn’t comfortable with.
So if it’d mad
e her feel better to be thanked from time to time, what would it hurt? Nothing, really. She was a great employee. He’d hate to lose her over something as trivial as niceties.
Besides, hearing her obvious surprise at the gesture had been worth it. She had some kind of ill-conceived notion about him. Some of that was his fault from the way he conducted business. But she didn’t know a damn thing about him outside of this office. And it irked the shit out of him that she’d set her mind on the type of person he was without really knowing him.
His phone rang, knocking him out of his sour thoughts. Seeing that it was one of his negotiators, Ben, he quickly answered it, hoping for good news.
“Talk to me,” he greeted.
“He won’t budge.”
Giving a frustrated sigh, Jaxon tunneled his fingers through his hair, then knotted a handful of it at the crown of his head. “Fuck. Did you up the offer?”
“I did exactly what you told me to do. He told me to get the fuck out of his club before,” Ben paused. “Jaxon, he actually picked up a shotgun and said, ‘before I introduce you to my boom-stick’.”
Boom-stick. Jaxon chuckled, appreciating the Army of Darkness reference. If he didn’t want the land the club sat on, he thought he might actually like the ornery Adam McDaniel.
“I’ll go down there myself.”
“I’m telling you this guy isn’t going to budge.”
“Everyone has their price. We haven’t found his sweet spot yet. Ten minutes with him and I’ll know exactly what he wants.”
“Whatever you say, boss. Good luck.”
As he hung up, he lifted his mug to his mouth and realized it was empty. Already.
“Miss Walker,” he said as he pressed the intercom button.
Why did he keep doing that? Before he’d hired her, he’d always made his own coffee. At first, it was because he enjoyed the stunning view. But the novelty of that should have worn off within a few days. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t surrounded by gorgeous women. He was. Daily. There was something about her that he didn’t get tired of looking at. Even though he knew getting his coffee for him irritated the hell out of her.
When she stepped into the room, he kept his attention on the computer screen and held out his mug, refusing to glance at her. He didn’t care for the weird sensations that went off inside him any time they made eye contact. The stimulating current of attraction he had to this woman beat any he’d felt before.
It spooked the shit out of him.
As she took the mug, her floral perfume hit his nose and his body came to life in a buzz of energy. His grip on his mouse tightened. So much for not looking at her. Just her scent did him in. Fucking great. Maybe he should indulge in a little office affair. This off-limit rule he’d made for himself was making her a greater temptation. If he got her out of his system, then maybe he’d get his shit together. And he’d never had a woman refuse him yet.
She had her back to him as she made his coffee, so he turned his attention away from the screen and on her. Today she wore a light blue silky blouse tucked into black dress slacks. The spikes of her black high heels peeked out from the hem of her pants. She always wore heels. Tall ones. Sexy ones. Different ones. More than once he’d envisioned her in nothing but them.
As usual, her hair was up in a bun. Not once had she worn it down. How long was it? Did it barely brush her shoulders or cascade down to mid-back? Everything about this woman called to his primal instinct to fuck. Right here. On this desk. Bent over it. Underneath it. Anywhere. Everywhere.
When she turned toward him with a steaming cup, he quickly locked his eyes back on the computer screen. The last thing he needed was her catching him staring at her like some starving animal.
“Will there be anything else, Mr. Sutherland?” she asked.
Hearing the unexpected husky timbre of her voice instantly brought his gaze up to her. For a split second, their eyes met and his chest tightened. Then he noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Not that the fatigued look was anything new. He’d picked up a pattern with her. At the beginning of the week, she seemed to have a lot more energy. But something happened as the days wore on, and by Thursday, she always seemed a little out of it.
She appeared dead on her feet today, more than usual.
“Is everything all right?” he asked, and could’ve bitten his tongue off as soon as the question was out of his mouth.
If her blinking was any indication, she was just as surprised by his inquiry. “Yes. Why?”
He was already in this deep, he might as well jump all in. “Quite frankly, you look like an extra on The Walking Dead.”
What the fuck, Sutherland? That was not a comment a man made to a woman. He should’ve kept his mouth shut.
Thankfully, she let out a small laugh. “That bad?”
Huh. She’d taken no offense to his comment. Even laughed a little. As much as he tried not to, he liked this woman. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because she didn’t put up with any bullshit, but wasn’t so uptight that he had to constantly flatter or risk an all-out temper tantrum. The change was refreshing and a little too enticing.
Best to stick with what he knew. He purposely went out with spoiled women. The more spoiled the better as far as he was concerned. They were easy. Spend a shit-load of money on them, give half-hearted compliments, and they ate out of his hands. Miss Walker wouldn’t be the same. He’d have to work a hell of a lot harder to please her.
“Do you need to take the rest of the day off?”
Her gaze shot to his as she handed him the mug. “No. I’m fine.”
“It must’ve been one hell of a party.”
A strained smile came to her lips. “Yeah. It was.”
As she left the office, he wondered what she did in her spare time. She had to be in her mid-twenties. Too young for a lot of responsibility. But a perfect age for sowing oats, which would explain the exhaustion toward the end of the week.
Hell, at thirty-one, he still partied hard. He was nowhere near ready to settle down. Why should he be?
He had an endless supply of money, a gorgeous woman on his arm at all times, and A-list events to fill up his calendar. For someone like Jaxon, it was the perfect life. He couldn’t imagine anything better.
CHAPTER THREE
“Girl, you need to pep it up or you’re going to make shit for money tonight,” Star said as she stared bug-eyed into the wall-length mirror and flicked layers of mascara onto her false eyelashes.
Tugging her yellow fishnets out of her bag, Madison inwardly sighed. There went any hope she was doing a somewhat decent job of hiding her exhaustion. If the always tired redhead was calling her out on being a downer, then Madison wasn’t fooling anyone.
“That obvious, huh?”
She propped her foot up on a wood bench and slowly pulled the yellow fishnet stocking up to mid-thigh. This was her second costume change since she came in a little over an hour ago and she had a few more to go. Adam, her boss, liked to keep the outfits fresh.
Simply switching outfits was exhausting. Her limbs felt like lead weights, and just sliding the flimsy netting up her leg was a chore. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep and the skin underneath was heavy and full. It’d taken a shit-ton of concealer to hide the dark circles.
Star gave an unladylike snort. “You make a sloth look energetic.”
“Damn.” She let out a shocked laugh and shook her head. “My boss compared me to a zombie earlier today. Your description is way worse.”
“I call it how I see it.” The other woman pushed the mascara wand back into the container, twisted it closed then turned and pointed it at Madison. “You’re not you tonight. What gives?”
“I haven’t had much sleep. I’m trying to save my energy for my stage performance later.”
Which was in about an hour.
Pursing her ruby-colored lips, Star popped a hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. “Whatev’. You could totally fuck that up and still nail it. You’re a walking wet dream in blac
k leather when you do your pole routine. The men eat it up. You should be using your energy in other areas.”
Madison dug around in her bag until she found her make-up and then she joined Star at the mirror. She grimaced at her reflection. Two words came to mind: hot mess. More concealer. Definitely. “That’s easier said than done. I’m not feeling especially friendly tonight.”
Trying to be flirty and energetic when her head was in a complete fog had proven impossible. She’d still make some money that would help make up for missing last night’s shift, but if things continued it wouldn’t be anywhere near what she usually brought in and she was still going to be way in the hole for the month.
“I can tell. So can the customers.” A soft, compassionate expression came to the other woman’s face as she tapped Madison’s shoulder with a make-up brush. “I don’t know how you do it, girl. I struggle with going to school full time and dancing. I can’t imagine having kids on top of that.”
“You do what you gotta do, right?”
“Ain’t that the damn truth?”
They shared a commiserating smile in the mirror. Star was a couple years younger than Madison, and only a little over a month away from graduating college with a Bachelor’s in Criminal Justice. After that, she would work toward a Master’s, while actually working somewhere in her field. Eventually she wanted to be the next Dexter—minus the serial killing part.
Star had her shit together. She was young, smart and planned for her future. Completely opposite of how Madison had gone about life. And the difference showed. It was moments like this she wondered how different her life would’ve turned out if she’d not gone out on that first date with her ex so many years ago.
She probably would’ve gone on to college, gotten some kind of degree. Be worrying about paying back college loans instead of keeping food on the table and a roof over her and her kids’ heads. But she wouldn’t have her kids. And everything she’d been through, would go through, was worth it as long as she had those two smiling faces.
The locker room door opened and a balding, gray head popped in, breaking into Madison’s thoughts.
