No, that was just an excuse. Visiting an E.R. would disable me.
Tate. Thoughts of him having dinner in the five-star hotel restaurant flashed before me. Dangerous visions of that beautiful smile and gentle hands filtered through my mind for a quick second. He was ruggedly handsome in just the right way. Replace the designer suit with a plaid shirt and jeans, and he could easily be cast as a lumberjack. But, there was something about that smile, shadowed by days of scruff, that suggested there was more to him.
Wait. I needed to get my imagination back under control. Forcing my mind off thoughts of the handsome guy I was not going to be working with, I booted up my computer. I needed to get started on my resignation letter while I waited for Sonya to return my call. Marcus had to understand why it was imperative that I not return to the racing word. But alienating him also had to be avoided, or I risked career suicide, so the best approach had to be a humble exit. Absorbing all the blame was the goal.
The vibration of my phone on the nightstand startled me. “Hey Sonya, thank you for calling me back,” I answered.
“Willow, it’s actually Dr. Penny Sartain. I’m Sonya’s new partner in the Dallas office. She’s out of the country on vacation until Sunday night. Are you doing okay?” There was tension in her voice, and her last question was code for Are You In Crisis?
“Oh, nice to talk to you, Dr. Sartain. She was excited that you were joining her and told me all about it. I’m doing okay, not really a crisis here, but I did want to talk through a work situation with her.”
“Jobs are so important, and I see where you made a huge change from nursing to marketing and moved to New York?”
I took a few deep breaths. I didn’t want to rehash my troubled history. “It’s what I had to do to keep going, you know?”
“Actually, I do know, Willow. I lost my only child in a car wreck ten years ago. Every time I hear screeching brakes or the crash of metal, I shudder.” Her voice changed to a lighter tone, and her words were more slowly spoken. Instantly, I knew she could relate to my pain.
The pillows behind me supported my weight as I let my body lean into them. “Loss is tragic. I’m sorry you’re part of the camp.”
“As we go through life, each person we come in contact with is a chance for a common bond, albeit different each time. For instance, neither of us knew before today we’d be talking, yet instantly we share something. I want to help you if I can. I hope you don’t have to wait until Sunday to resolve your issues. Wanna give me a try? I’ve got all night.”
5
Willow
Talking to Dr. Sartain was as easy, if not easier, than talking to Sonya. She’d read through my chart enough to have a view of my history and didn’t make me repeat my life’s story, for which I was grateful.
“Sounds like Marcus is a Jekyll and Hyde type, but savvy in his business acumen. I’m more concerned with you bailing on this project before you give it a try.”
“Dr. Sartain, you’re calling me a quitter? I’m really surprised you’d want me to dive into the past by have anything to do with racing.” My mind immediately filled with more questions, and a stir of defensiveness consumed me.
It would be nice to feel someone was on my side.
A deep sigh on the opposite end of the phone told me she was going in long for the debate. “First, I want you to call me Penny. Second, I focus my practice on diving straight into obvious obstacles rather than avoiding them.”
One of my bed pillows hit the floor as I sat up quickly. “I’m not avoiding the issue.”
“Have you been anywhere near any kind of race? Watched any racing on TV? Driven your car anywhere close to or over the speed limit?” Her questions were fair.
And the last one almost made me giggle. She seemed to know me better than myself. “No, no, and no.” A bit of relaxation came with my exhalation.
“You’re so much stronger than you know, and you’ve put enough time and distance between you and your triggers. I think it’s time you faced them with hard determination. Don’t let the fear of racing continue to own you.”
“So, are you saying the way Sonya and I treated my issues was all wrong?”
There was a brief pause. “Not at all, it gave you time to heal and build the foundation to make a life change. But now, the old fears are creeping into your new life. Do you really want to keep running?”
No, I don’t.
She paused, and I heard the sound of papers shuffling in the background. “Are you currently experiencing any of those side effects like before?” she asked.
“Side effects?”
“The sleep issues.”
There it was. She’d slipped it in like a silver-tongued devil.
Sleepwalking.
Silence.
Deep breaths.
“No.” Answering softly, I fought off my anxiety about the issue.
“Not at all?”
“Well, no, but this all just happened. I hope the sleepwalking doesn’t return.”
“We’ll address it if it happens, but first, I want you to get on board by at least trying to embrace your job assignment. Besides, Tate is trusting you to make the project a success.”
“Tate wants more than that,” I argued with sarcasm. It was definitely a means of changing the subject.
“Willow, you’re assuming that.”
Ego buster. The urban definition of assume entered my mind.
As we ended our conversation, I finally agreed that diving into the Bolster project would be a safe entry point for moving forward in my life. For the most part, the video game could be managed at a distance from the actual sport of racing, and if anything, the assignment would be short lived.
Grateful that I hadn’t sent my resignation out prior to my therapy conversation, I sent Marcus a brief message that I wouldn’t be in the office in the morning, explaining that I’d been burglarized, that I suspected my roommate, and needed to file a police report.
I closed my laptop at roughly three o’clock in the morning and set my alarm for seven, in hopes of catching a few hours of sleep.
The next morning, I learned that banking problems were handled much like a criminal defense, guilty until proven innocent. Until I could convince them the error was theirs, I had a hefty sword to bear. The manager finally agreed to work with me after I went to the police department, filed a report, and returned to the bank. I wasn’t hopeful I’d be able to prove the checks were stolen, but the bank shouldn’t have cashed them without proper authorization. I couldn’t see how I was responsible.
“The processed checks hold the time and date, and you’re telling me I’m accountable for them until I can prove I didn’t cash them. Yet, you won’t or can’t pull the security footage?”
He maintained verbal silence, as he continued to type at an annoyingly loud and deliberate pace while keeping his attention focused on the hidden screen.
“Fine, I’m closing my account immediately. Please provide me a thousand dollars in cash and the rest in one certified check.” My declaration was loud enough to be heard in the office next to us, because the gentleman sitting at his desk peered over at me through the glass wall separating us.
“Ma’am, that’s not necessary. We’ll get you set up with a new account number, overnight you a new debit card, and I’ve just been given permission to waive the overdraft charges on your missing checks.”
Oh, I bet he just received permission.
“Runaround. That’s what you’ve given me at the cost of a day’s pay. You’ve got five minutes.” I felt renewed mental strength, and my purse had never felt lighter as I retrieved it from the chair beside me.
“Ms. Alders, can you come with me for a moment?” A quiet, feminine voice came from behind me.
Turning, I saw a female police officer standing beside the open door.
Great, I’m gonna get arrested for failing to avoid bitchiness.
As I approached her, she turned without speaking and walked quickly to a back office beh
ind a secured door as I followed.
“I’m Officer Pope, and this is George Wallace, the bank’s Branch Manager. We’d like you to look at a photo taken from the security footage.”
The screen wasn’t even completely turned to me, but I had no problem recognizing that curly auburn hair.
“That’s my roommate, Mariah Vaught, and her boyfriend, Les. I don’t know his last name.”
After yet another two hours, I finally left the bank with my cash, certified funds, and a furor to kill someone. I hated thieves, especially one who would steal from her roommate.
The officer, along with a detective who joined our impromptu meeting, had laid out a plan and asked me to play along for my own safety. They told me the fraud prevention task force already had information on Mariah. Apparently, she had a lengthy rap sheet and several aliases… Her criminal intentions were far from over.
Great. After winning the roommate of the year lottery, I’m supposed to be calm and act normal. Yeah, right.
While waiting on Mariah’s arrest, I holed up in my bedroom with my baseball bat ready beside my bed and images of new apartments on my computer screen. Movers were already lined up, and the mail had been stopped.
God bless the Internet. It was amazing what I could accomplish, even after normal business hours were over.
The sound of my ringing phone woke me from a sleepy fog.
“Um, Marcus, hi,” I answered. Scrambling from the bed, I realized I hadn’t overslept for work, but it was closer to morning than midnight.
“I’m so sorry for the late hour, but I just landed and retrieved your message about today’s events.” He paused to give his driver instructions. “Listen, I don’t feel good about you staying there, and I sense something’s going on that’s not safe. I don’t want to be worried about you, so I’m sending Neil, my driver, to pick you up at seven a.m., and you’ll stay at the penthouse, protected by security until you find another place. Neil will have all of the passcodes for you, and Naomi will make a room of your choice ready, with the kitchen stocked. Make yourself comfortable.”
Move in to the scratchpad? His hook-up place? He’s lost his mind. I’d be office gossip within two seconds.
“Gosh, I’m very grateful for the offer, but I think you’re overreacting. I can’t move in with you; it wouldn’t be appropriate.”
He belted out a laugh. Something I wasn’t used to hearing from my enigmatic leader. “Well, you’re certainly not moving in with me. I don’t live at the penthouse. I use it for corporate guests and meetings, but that’s all.”
“But…”
“No buts. Be ready in the morning. My team will put whatever personal items you don’t immediately need in storage, and deliver the rest to the penthouse. Besides, you’ll be traveling so much the next couple of months you’ll be living out of a hotel anyway. I need you safe and focused on getting this video game launched.”
Sighing, I said, “Do I get a say in this?”
“No. Goodnight.” He hung up on me.
Another man who wanted to control me.
Me? Living in a penthouse? The boss’s place? The same man who had acted like an ass a mere twenty-four hours before.
Uh…no.
Before I could call him back, a text message appeared on my screen.
No one at the office will know. I keep my affairs private as you are aware, and I expect you to do the same. This is a temporary solution to a problem. That is all.
Regardless of how it would look, he was right about one thing. I had to get out of the dire apartment situation with Mariah, and having his security team take care of me was a relief. Mariah wouldn’t dare show her face in my office building. But I definitely planned to make the living situation at the penthouse temporary.
Unable to sleep, I peeked out of my bedroom, looking through our small galley kitchen to see if Mariah’s door was closed on the other side. It was. Dammit.
Always noisy in the kitchen when she came home, this time she’d managed to sneak in without me hearing her.
Lucky me. My morning was going to be that much more of a bitch. I threw on an old t-shirt, grabbed my dirty laundry to wash before I packed it, and crept quietly through the apartment. The lack of male clothing strewn everywhere was a good sign that Les wasn’t with her, but it didn’t mean everything was fine. Just one of them around meant trouble; both of them around meant a potential disaster.
How fast could I pack and what should I leave behind…?
With a glance around the small, dimly lit living room, I inventoried what I could easily do without…definitely the sofa. I loved the style, but it was now…uh, well…used and that was just plain gross. The pots, pans, and dishes were hers, as were most of the kitchen gadgets. Lamps…replaceable. The bookshelf was mine, but I could order another one for cheap.
How quickly things in life become disposable.
After snatching most of my books in one sweep, I opened the storage bench in my room and proceeded to pack it with my things. Glancing at my bed, I knew it would be the one piece of furniture I wanted to keep. It was all I had left of my grandmother’s things, and I wouldn’t part with it if at all possible.
By the pre-dawn hour of five o’clock, I had finished washing my clothes and packed what was left of my life in containers, drawers, and trash bags…so much for lifelong acquisitions. Most definitely not an upper-class move, but then I’d never been part of high society, especially with my wrong side of the tracks upbringing. I didn’t fit into Marcus’ high-rise lifestyle, and I wasn’t planning on trying any time soon. My ticker was stuck in survival mode.
Unable to sit still, I showered and started applying my makeup in the locked confines of my bedroom when I heard our apartment door close.
Mariah?
When I slowly opened my bedroom door to peer out, it creaked on cue, like the surround sound of a horror movie. The kitchen light was bright; the smell of coffee drifted toward me, and the door to Mariah’s room was open.
“You’ve been up all night,” she uttered tersely, presenting herself suddenly in front of me. “What are you secretly up to in here?”
When she shoved at my door, I couldn’t react quickly enough to block it. It slammed full throttle into my face. I had no opportunity to prevent the manic volcano named Mariah from erupting.
“I don’t feel comfortable here, and I think it’s better that I find another place. The movers are coming momentarily.”
Warning: we’ve got company coming, bitch.
Avoiding close proximity to her, I backed up toward my bed, closer to my bat. “I don’t want any trouble.” I felt fluid trickle down my forehead. When I wiped at it, there was blood on my fingertips, but I ignored the damage, keeping my eyes on my opponent.
She cocked her lips in a sassy smirk. “Nice, that’ll leave a mark on your pretty face.” She took a couple of steps to close the gap between us and raised her finger toward my face. “How dare you bust me on rent. I’m calling the building manager to make sure he knows you’re the one to come to for money.”
“We’re co-signers. We’re both on the hook, or did you not know that? I put down the deposit, so that’ll be my loss.” I slipped my hand around the grip of the bat behind me.
She was wearing her Doctor Detail uniform, but it appeared to swallow her. Over the last few months, she’d made decent money cleaning high-end automobiles—which always baffled me, but I thought perhaps she got good tips. She was cute and had personality when she wanted to use it, but the events of the last few days led me to believe that perhaps she was stealing from the cars or the owners.
The topic of conversation needed to switch in a hurry. “Are you headed to work?” I still held the bat in my grip.
She turned her head toward the door then quickly to me again. “Yes, I’m waiting for Les to get back.”
So much for my request to stop having guests. God, I just want her to leave!
When a knock came at the door, my heart sank to depths previously unkno
wn, as I feared danger with the two of them in the apartment.
She raced to let Les in, but the look on her face was priceless when she opened the door.
“Willow Alders?” a deep male voice asked.
She took a step backwards.” That’s my roommate.”
The man who spoke and his partner didn’t wait for an invitation to enter. As Mariah stood in shock, two burly guys marched past her, immediately looking around.
With relief, I said, “I’m Willow.”
Within seconds, they were standing protectively in my bedroom doorway. “I’m Angelo, and this is J.T. Are you okay?”
I nodded.
He took his phone out of his front jeans pocket and typed a message. “J.T.’s getting you out. Everything in here ready to go?”
“Yes.”
He looked over my left shoulder and leaned in closer. “It’s okay. You can let go of the bat. You’re safe now.”
I nodded, but I didn’t let go of the bat, too afraid Les was coming back, and big bodies were no defense against guns. That much I knew from my days working trauma. But then again, neither was my bat.
Badass I wasn’t.
J.T. handed me a washcloth to clean the blood from my forehead, and then gently pushed my hair behind my ear. “Let’s go.” His dark eyes were fierce, and his lack of hair didn’t make him look like Mr. Clean, more like the ROCK.
As he led the way, I glanced at Mariah and fought the urge to smile. I so wanted to give it to her, but I knew worse was coming her way. In jail, someone else was gonna make her their bitch.
Justice.
6
Twelve hours later, I was settled at my desk, trying desperately to focus on my computer screen, when I felt that familiar sensation of someone staring at me. A quick glance around the office told me I was alone. Eeriness prevailed.
My watch read twenty minutes after seven. I’d been so locked in on preparing my mockups I hadn’t noticed how much time had passed, nor had I paid attention when the rest of the staff had left. But I had so much to do in short order that I couldn’t stop. It was amazing what I could accomplish when I had little to no interruptions.
Tracks To Love: An Enemies To Lovers Alpha Hero Romance Page 3
