No Excuses

by Nikky Kaye

  My mother’s eyes popped out.

  Uh oh. “No! Not that kind of friend. It’s not me; Jesus, calm down.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s my, uh, boss’s sister. He’s freaked out.”

  “Why? Is she a teenager or something?”

  “He just doesn’t know if she should have it.” It sounded ridiculous even as I said it, and my mother agreed.

  She frowned. “Why is it even up to him?”

  “It’s not. I think he’s just, I don’t know, worried that she can’t handle it.”

  “I see. Well, like you said, it’s not up to him. You know that saying that God doesn’t throw anything at you that he doesn’t think you can handle? Maybe he should think about that.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think Gage is a particularly spiritual person.” Unless he’d taken me too seriously when I called out blasphemies when in the throes of passion.

  “Maddie, she’s a grown up, right? He has to let her make her own decisions. And she has to stand by them herself.” She walked to the front door, got my coat out of the closet then she handed it to me with some advice. “Be a friend to her, and be a friend to him. But don’t get in the middle. It’s not your place if he’s your boss.”

  My face burned. “He’s not just my bo—”

  “Maddie! Is that who you’ve been seeing? Who you were with Friday night?”

  I cursed my fair complexion. It always gave me away. Then again, I reminded myself that I was twenty-four years old and had nothing—okay, not much—to be ashamed of. My V-card had been lost in a dumb decision in my freshman year at college, and I wasn’t exactly bragging about my handful of experiences since.

  “How long have you been, um, seeing each other?” she asked.

  “About a month? Six weeks?”

  “That’s a long time for you.”

  The sad part is that she wasn’t being facetious. I rarely went out more than a couple of times with the same person. I hated commitment, and that included dating. I couldn’t even buy the same shampoo twice.

  Brian Gage was probably the closest I had come so far to having a boyfriend. Considering that he was wealthy, demanding and my boss, it was probably not the best precedent to set.

  My mother looked like she was not only biting her tongue, but swallowing it as well. “Maddie, do you know what you’re doing?” she finally asked.

  Not a clue, Mom.

  “More or less?” I said with a bright smile. I considered it a minor miracle that she didn’t ask me about the recent increase in underwear in my laundry pile.

  “We will talk about this later,” she threatened. “You’d better go or you’ll miss your bus.”

  Of course, I did miss my bus. Damn it. I’d decided after graduating against getting a car in order to save money, but it meant that I was at the whim of public transit or the kindness of others. And today, it meant that I walked into work almost an hour late.

  Susan stuck her head out of her office to make a point of my tardiness when I walked past.

  “Maddie, Brian has been looking for you. I tried to help him myself…” She trailed off with a coy smirk on her face, no doubt wanting me to wonder just how she’d tried to help him.

  “Thanks, Susan.”

  I gave her a smile that didn’t reach my eyes, and only the fact that I knew she was watching me walk down the hall to my desk kept me from turning back and giving her the finger. I had remarkable self-restraint—perhaps it was the recent rope training.

  Gage’s door was closed. I put my bag under my desk and hung up my coat. Then I sat in my chair and rearranged my desktop. Stared at the door. Nervously rubbed my leather-covered calves together like a cricket. Stared at the door. I didn’t hear any noise from inside; for all I knew he wasn’t even in there.

  I wasn’t afraid to see him. I longed to see him, in fact. I spent much of the night recalling the smell of his skin, the sardonic arch of his eyebrows, his thoughtful gestures and geeky jokes. He was frightened, a state so foreign that it produced new and strange emotions within me as well.

  I’d never really wanted to comfort anyone before—I think probably because the compassion of others made me too uncomfortable when I was younger. But something about Gage made me yearn to submit to him and take care of him at the same time. For a girl who’d spent twenty years building walls around her heart, it was terrifying to suddenly find a door there. It was tempting to barricade it.

  So lost was I in my head that I jumped when I heard my name.

  “Madeline!”

  Gage stood in the doorway to his office, looking freshly pressed but the lines around his eyes were tight and a groove seemed permanently etched in his forehead.

  I took a deep breath in, lacing my fingers together in my lap. “Gage, I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have—”

  “We have a problem.”

  What? “Is Bobbie okay?”

  He shook his head. “A work problem.”

  Any problems with work concerned me, of course, but I hated that he didn’t answer my question about Bobbie. “What is it?”

  “Come in here.”

  He pivoted on one heel and marched back to his desk, clearly expecting me to follow. I scrambled off my chair and chased behind him.

  “Close the door,” he ordered.

  Standing in front of his desk, he slumped down a little to rest on the edge. The cracks spreading through his immaculate façade made him more real, more human. I remembered from somewhere that on old paintings and porcelain they called that “crazing,” which suddenly made perfect sense. He was crazing.

  “What is it?”

  He stretched his right arm out, his palm facing up. It was the international symbol for “come here… give me something… take my hand… I need you.”

  I went to him.

  When I was close enough to touch, he pulled me into his arms and hugged me tighter than anyone ever had before, even my parents. My eyes filled with tears, and not just because I could barely breathe.

  “Forgive me.” His voice was hot and broken in my ear.

  I couldn’t trust my own voice, so I just wrapped my arms around him to hold all the pieces of him together. Seconds felt like minutes and minutes like hours as we clung to each other. He leaned back against the front of his desk, his legs spread and me nestled between them.

  A perfunctory knock rattled the door before it swung open. “Brian? I brought those—oh!”

  I just about tripped over Gage’s long legs on either side of me as I extricated myself and spun around. Susan stood there, a sheaf of papers in her hand and her mouth twisted in an ugly sneer.

  “Well, I guess we know why he brought you on the retreat now.”

  I was burning and speechless with humiliation. It would be all over the office in an hour that I was sleeping with the boss.

  I wasn’t stupid. This was not a career move recommended by any guidance counselor, and we had been playing with fire. But to be caught in an embrace by the jealous vamp in Human Resources was the worst possible scenario. On the other hand, at least we had all our clothes on.

  Gage simply sighed. “What do you need, Susan?”

  Stumbling to a safer distance at the side of his desk, I gaped at his nonchalance. Of course, he didn’t care—he wasn’t the one going to be fired. Wait, would I really be fired? Could Susan do that? Wouldn’t that be up to Gage himself?

  “I suppose I need to update the fraternization policy with you, Mister Gage. But for now, I brought you the files we discussed first thing this morning.” She threw me another arch look to remind me of my late arrival. I hadn’t been using the Happit lately.

  Gage straightened and took the small stack of manila folders from her. “Thank you. Anything else?”

  “Only for Miss Jones to join me in my office after your—er, meeting is finished here. I have a few other policies to review with her.”

  Oh, shit. Maybe she could fire me.

  After shooting me a smug
look, she sauntered out the door, leaving it wide open. Gage did not suggest I close it, instead he was busy spreading open the manila folders on his desk.

  “This is the problem I mentioned earlier,” he said absently, poring over some papers. He’d circled back to his throne and was sitting while I still stood at the side of the desk.

  It took me a moment to remember anything that happened before he took me in his arms. “What?”

  He drummed his fingers on the glass top of his desk, looking up at me. “Madeline, before we get into this I need to make something very clear.”

  I swallowed. “Okay?”

  “It is critical that I compartmentalize better. It got away from me, but this—” He gestured between the two of us. “—can’t happen at work anymore.”

  “I understand, sir.” I didn’t like it, but I understood. But if he wanted me to work twelve-hour days with him and not touch him, not share secret smiles or little jokes, then that didn’t leave much other time to explore our relationship.

  His gaze searched me. He looked almost disappointed at my ready agreement. Was I supposed to straddle him in his chair and demand that he go down on me during lunch breaks or something? Although the idea had potential…

  I liked working for Gage, with Gage. But I also just plain liked him. It was hard to separate the two—my boss and my boyfriend—but he was the first man I’d met who cared more about my successes than I did. Unfortunately, that also meant that he would feel my failures more keenly.

  “Now, this is last year’s application for a grant from the National Science Foundation. Needless to say, it was unsuccessful.” He frowned at the file. “You’ll be glad to know that I even said please, for all the good that it did. I want you to work on this year’s application.”

  I scanned through the information lying on the desk. “It’s not for very much money,” I pointed out with surprise. “Why go to the trouble?”

  “A few reasons. One, the prestige and visibility.” He ticked the reasons off on his fingers. “Two, it puts us in the pipeline to apply for other funding for R&D, stuff like NIH if we’re going to expand our biometrics. And three, it looks good to other VC firms who are thinking about taking a chance on us.”

  Should I remind him of all the other tasks he dumped on me last week? I wondered. Given the weekend he’d had, I doubted that my complaining about my workload would help anything. Shuffling the papers back into some semblance of order, I nodded. “Okay, I’ll give it a shot.”

  “You’ll do your best.” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, yeah.” I waved my hand at him then rapped the folder on his desk to line up the papers inside.

  “As your boss, I have full confidence in your abilities.”

  “Thanks, boss.” My salute was lopsided, but then again so were my abilities.

  “As your boyfriend—” He looked a little like his tie was strangling him as he said it; I figured it wasn’t a term he’d used on himself too often. In contrast, my inner girlfriend was ready to jump on his glass and steel desk and tap dance. “As your boyfriend, I would like to have you for dinner tonight.”

  I wasn’t sure if he meant have me over to his house, or literally have me for his main course. Either way, I was hungry. My attempt at a wink made him smile, at least.

  “I guess I’ll take care of dessert,” I said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  MADDIE

  Gage and I decided not to leave the office together, for appearance’s sake. Not that it really mattered—my ears were burning all afternoon, even though we’d barely spoken since I left his office. The grapevine had been very effective, but what else would you expect from an app development company? The whole point of the business was making people feel like something they’d never needed before was crucial to their everyday life.

  By the time I trudged up to his doorstep, it was dark and my legs felt like sausages after being encased in tall leather boots all day. Sexy? Yes. Comfortable? Not exactly. The two rooms on either side of his front door were lit up like happy eyes to welcome me, and my mood lifted a little as I saw he’d lit a fire in one of the fireplaces.

  My hand rose to the bell when he swung the door open. I almost stumbled into his arms from the surprise before stumbling into his arms on purpose anyhow.

  “Hi.” He kissed my ear, his hands steadying me.

  “Hi,” I sighed. It had been a long, annoying day, but I’d finally gotten to the best part.

  All too soon, he pushed me back and helped me off with my coat. My bag got shoved under the console table while I sat on the bottom stair to peel off my boots. I let out an audible sigh of relief at the same time that Gage disappeared to the back of the house where the kitchen was.

  It seemed like a week since he’d sat right there and ranted about Bobbie’s pregnancy, but it had only been twenty-four hours. I made a mental note to call her the next day.

  I flexed my stocking-covered toes against the hardwood, trying to stretch out my cramped feet. Ah, to hell with it. My tights also came off and got wadded into one boot. I wandered over to the fireplace, bunching up my skirt to feel the warmth on the backs of my bare legs.

  Gage reappeared with a glass of red wine in each hand. “Better?” he asked.

  “If I sigh in relief any more, I might start hyperventilating,” I joked, letting go of my skirt to take the offered glass. “God, I love fires. I mean, fireplace ones, not like arson.”

  “And here I thought you were a closet pyromaniac.” He sipped his wine.

  “Ha-ha. I never went camping as a kid, never lived anywhere with a fireplace. I always wanted one. I thought they were so romantic. I love that nothing is ever the same with a fire—it’s always changing, unpredictable.”

  “You do know you can watch it on TV at Christmas-time, right?”

  “Yeah, but I always get jerked out of my little fantasy when the guy in the flannel shirt comes to poke at it.”

  With my long wool skirt now down and absorbing the heat, I was getting a little too warm. I padded over to a very plain, very beige couch and sat down, careful not to spill any wine.

  “What happened with Susan?” he asked, walking over to lean on the armrest beside me.

  I was a little surprised to see that he’d changed into his worn jeans when he got home. But his light blue shirt was still on, the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone. It matched his eyes.

  “I’m sure she emailed you a report.” I rolled my eyes, tasting the wine. “Mmm. Anyhow, she basically advised me to keep my personal life and work life separate.”

  Actually, she had said something nasty about keeping my legs together in the office, but I didn’t want to tell him that. And she was right, regardless. That’s what irked me so much—the fact that she was justified in her sanctimonious attitude. Gage hummed in response, examining his wine glass.

  “I, uh, texted Bobbie today,” I told him. “I went to ask Aaron how she was doing but he wasn’t in the office today.”

  Gage’s gaze moved from his wine to the fire. “Yeah, he stayed home with her,” he said absently. “He’d better come in tomorrow, though. He’s getting behind.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was joking, and suspected that he wasn’t. “She asked me to come by tomorrow after work.” His frown made my heart hurt. “Um, do you want to come with me?”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  Clearly, whatever was happening in Gage’s head was still happening, and he needed more time to deal with it. Extracting it from his ass would be a good start, though. I decided to change the subject as he swigged the rest of his wine.

  “What’s for dinner?” The scent of rosemary and garlic drifted from the kitchen.

  “Lamb chops.”

  “Yummy. Will it be ready soon?”

  “We’ve got time.”

  “For what?”

  Rising from his perch, he plucked my wine glass out of my hand, still half-full. He looked thoughtful as he placed it and his empty glass o
n a side table. “You know, Madeline, it occurs to me that we’ve gone about this a little backwards.”

  This? I cocked my head. “How so?”

  “I had you blindfolded and you tied me up even before we kissed.”

  I shifted on the couch, feeling a little too close to the fire. “Hmmm.” That was true, but I hadn’t minded at the time.

  “Then I made you come before our first date.”

  Also true. The memory of it made me a little breathless, in fact. He sat beside me on the couch, carefully turning me to put my legs over his lap and my back against the armrest. He slipped one hand under my long skirt, smoothing his palm along my shin. I cringed, mentally smacking myself for not shaving my legs that morning.

  Gage didn’t seem to care, though. His hand wandered higher up my leg, over my knee and squeezing my thigh gently. Part of me wanted to withdraw my legs and run away, embarrassed that my thigh could so easily be squeezed like putty. Argh! Why didn’t I have shapely, rock hard legs with a thigh gap a small child could pass through?

  Then his fingers slipped over my inner thigh, tickling me just below where my legs met.

  “Gage…” Biting back a gasp, I tried to look at him sternly. Yeah, it didn’t work.

  “Maddie…” He didn’t even bother trying to hide his glee as the tips of his fingers brushed across the crotch of my panties. “You naughty girl, have you been this wet all day?”

  “Not all day.” He didn’t need to know about the extra underwear stashed in my desk drawer on a regular basis now.

  His smile was smug and delighted, like an adolescent boy who’d snapped a bra strap that then came undone. “Do you think about me when you’re at the office?”

  I gave him a “well, duh!” look. At the office, at home, on the bus. I didn’t want to inflate his ego anymore—if that was even possible—but it would be fair to say that I thought about him way more than was smart. But Brian Gage had a way of bringing out my inner stupid.

  “I think about you,” he said. “I think about you all fucking day. I get hard and have to stay at my desk until I make it go away so I can get up. You’re the reason I’ve been having meetings in my office instead in other people’s.”