“My schedule this week is similar to last,” he begins. “I have a business dinner scheduled for Wednesday so I won’t need anything prepared that evening. I should be home on the other nights, but will notify you if that changes. I have an interview scheduled this evening with someone from the security company I’m contracting with. He will likely be here for dinner as well.”
“Of course.”
He pauses, moving the food around on his plate but without actually eating any of it. I’m hesitant to leave, because something tells me the conversation isn’t over yet. I glance down at the large dark mahogany table that sits unused as the focal point in the dining room. I’m not sure why a single man who rarely entertains would have such a large dining room table, but Mr. Meyer does. Just as I decide that perhaps the conversation really is over, he clears his throat.
“I’m sorry for what happened this weekend.” He looks down at his plate, clearly as uncomfortable as I am.
“Mr. Meyer, you don’t need to—”
“I’ve lived alone for so many years now, it’s easy to forget that someone else shares this space. I’m not one to explain my life choices to anyone, but this is one of the main reasons I had you sign the confidentiality agreement with your contract. As a reminder, you cannot discuss what you saw this weekend with anyone—” He glances up at me, his look one of authority and intimidation, something I’m certain he uses with his employees often. Any uncomfortableness he had from earlier is gone.
“No, sir, of course not,” I rush to assure him.
“I often…entertain women on weekends or occasionally nights during the week, and if during those times, you enter the main living area you may witness what you saw this weekend. However I will promise that it will not occur during your normal working hours and, of course, never in your living quarters.”
“I apologize for coming into your space over the weekend, Mr. Meyer—” I look away, desperate to look at anything but him. Suddenly the large hutch against the wall looks very interesting, even with the plain white dishes displayed behind the glass doors.
“Ms. Williams, you do not owe me an apology. There will be times that you need to come into my home for something or even to find me during your off hours. We can’t control that; I just don’t want you surprised if it happens again.”
“Yes, sir.” I lie. There’s no chance that I won’t be surprised if I walk into that again, no matter how many times he warns me it might occur.
“Is there anything you need to review for the week?”
“No, sir.”
“Please plan dinner tonight for six; as I mentioned the new security team member will be here as well.”
“Of course, I’ll have it ready, sir.”
Chapter 3
Hope
Later that evening, I’m back in the kitchen preparing dinner for Mr. Meyer and the new security guard he’s meeting. I’ve purposely kept myself busy today, trying to forget what I saw over the weekend but also trying not to think about what it will be like living with someone other than Abby. I know if it became too much I could quit and go back to Abby’s apartment, but I’m tired of being dependent on her. I did that for far too long before.
I shake my head, willing myself not to go there. It’s nearly six o’clock which means time for dinner to be served. I plate the chicken marsala and pasta dish, a new recipe that I tried today. I’m in the middle of setting everything on the table when I hear Mr. Meyer enter the room.
“Ms. Williams, I would like to introduce you to my new security member, Mr. Garrett Foxx.”
The moment I turn around, I freeze. The person standing next to my boss is the man from both one of the best and worst nights of my life. The night I’ve tried to forget, the night that has kept me from sleeping, and that changed my life forever. His brown eyes stare back at me, neither of us saying anything. He looks exactly the same as he did that night: his light brown hair is still cut short, his muscles fill out his clothes perfectly—I feel the heat rush to my cheeks remembering just how firm those muscles were.
“Mr. Foxx…it’s nice to meet you,” I finally mange to say quietly.
“Ms. Williams…” The shock in his eyes likely mimics my own.
“Mr. Foxx will be looking over the apartment after dinner to recommend any security updates I might need,” Mr. Meyer explains while Garrett and I continue to stare at each other. “I was hoping you could show him the living quarters before he leaves tonight, if you’re free.”
“Of course, Mr. Meyer.” I leave the room and rush towards my apartment, desperate to get away from the memories flooding my head.
Seeing Garrett brought back every memory from that horrible night. Everything came rushing back and hit me like a tidal wave all at once. I can feel myself starting to panic, my breathing becoming quicker as I struggle to take in air. The room starts to go dark just as I slide myself down the door until I’m on the floor. I put my head between my knees, willing myself to calm down before I pass out.
I can’t do this…I cannot have a panic attack right now. It’s been almost a year since my last one; I’ve been doing so much better lately, and then BAM, the last person I expect shows up and brings everything back. How am I going to work with him every day? How am I going to live with him? How am I not going to have another panic attack every time I see him? I can’t do this…I can’t—
Reaching into my pocket, I grab the phone that is never out of reach. Without even looking, I call the only person who will understand what I’m going through right now.
“Hi, Hope!” Abs answers the phone on the first ring in her normal bubbly way.
“Abby…” my voice is barely more than a whisper as I try to slow my breathing down.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“No,” I answer honestly. I’m not okay; I’m about as far okay as someone can be right now. I start pacing the floor, but hoping it would help calm me down, but it doesn’t.
“Do you want me to come over? What do you need?” Abby has been here with me before, she knows without me saying what’s going on right now. She might not know the details, but she knows enough. She’ll never know just how much I appreciate everything she’s ever done for me; without her, I don’t think I’d be standing here right now.
“Can we… meet somewhere?” I manage to pant out.
“Of course, there’s a coffee place two blocks from your apartment. Do you need me to pick you up?”
“No, I can meet you there. In an hour?” Maybe walking the two blocks will help, though it might not. I should probably take her up on the offer, but my mind is going in so many directions so fast that I can’t seem to make decision to save my life right now.
“Absolutely. Are you sure you’re okay until then?” She doesn’t bother to hide the concern in her voice, not that I would expect her to.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, if you need to meet earlier.”
“Thanks, Abby.”
“Anything for you, you know that.”
I hang up the phone, feeling slightly better than I was before talking to her. I make my way to the bathroom, washing away the tears and panic from my eyes so hopefully it’s not as obvious to anyone else what is going on. I haven’t been able to talk to anyone other than Abby about that night. She’s the only one who knows about it and the fallout from it that lasted months. She is the only one who would understand what seeing Garrett did to me and why.
“Ms. Williams.” Mr. Meyer knocks on the door but does not open it.
I take a deep breath, trying to find the strength to get through the next few minutes before I can leave to go meet Abs. I only need to show him the apartment and then I can leave. I can do this…it’s only a few minutes at most. I can manage.
“Mr. Meyer, Mr. Foxx.” I open the door, forcing any emotion from my face as I do.
“Mr. Foxx, I will wait for you in my study. Ms. Williams, thank you for taking the time to show him the liv
ing quarters.”
“This way, Mr. Foxx,” I gesture for him to come into the apartment. “This is the shared living room, kitchen, and eating area. Off the kitchen is a half bath and the private entrance which leads to the stairwell in the parking garage.”
I lead him down the hall, taking a moment to point out my bedroom and the vacant one that I assume he’ll be moving into at some point. I’m rambling and I know it, but it’s the only thing keeping me from having another panic attack. If I focus on the task of showing him the apartment, nothing else can happen.
“Hope…”
“Please don’t,” I beg quietly. I can’t lose it, not now, and definitely not in front of him.
“Can I—”
“Mr. Meyer is waiting for you in his study. Do you need me to show you the way?” I ask without looking at him.
“No, I remember where it is.” He hesitates with his hand on the door knob. When he turns to me, I know he wants to say something but I silently beg him not to. The moment the door closes I grab my purse and rush out the other entrance to go meet Abs. I need to get out of here; I need her to tell me how the hell I’m going to be able to do this. Losing this job isn’t an option, not after it took me so long to finally get the courage to work again.
“Alright, what the hell has you so shaken up?” she asks as soon as I collapse into the chair across from her only minutes later.
“My boss hired a new security person,” I answer as if that explains everything.
“Right, you knew this though,” she reminds me.
“I met him tonight.” I take a gulp of the strong coffee. “It’s Garrett.”
“Garrett? The guy from…OH…” she realizes what I’m not saying.
“Yeah.”
“Wow.” She silently sits back in her chair, the look in her blue eyes telling me she knows exactly what seeing him did to me. “So, what happened once you saw him? Did you…?”
“My boss introduced us and I darted into the apartment as fast as I could.”
“It brought everything from that night back?” I nod in confirmation. “Did he say anything?”
“Not then, but I had to give him a tour of the apartment we’ll be sharing. When my boss was back in his office, he said my name and I swear I nearly lost it.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. I don’t know what to do. I can’t quit my job, Abs, I can’t. I need this to work out, I need to get back on my feet. But how am I going to do that when I’ll be seeing him every day?” She puts her hand over mine, stopping me from tearing apart the napkins; something I hadn’t even realized I was doing until that moment.
“Hope, you’re not going to do anything,” she calmly says. “You’re going to go to work, do your job and that’s going to be your focus. You don’t have to talk to Garrett if you don’t want to and you definitely don’t have to talk to him about that night. I’m sure he’ll be out of the apartment with your boss most of the time anyway. So maybe you won’t actually see him that much.”
“We’ll be practically living together!” I hiss.
“You’re going to be sharing an apartment,” she corrects. “You will still have your own space; you can go to your bedroom and be alone whenever you want to.”
“You don’t understand, Abs. The moment I saw him…it…everything came rushing back. It hit me so fast.”
“And you survived. Did you have a panic attack in front of him and your boss?”
“No.”
“Did you cry in front of your boss?”
“No.”
“You dealt with it. You’ve come a long way. A year ago seeing him would have immediately brought you to the floor in that dining room. You wouldn’t have been able to hold it together until you got to your apartment.”
I know she’s right. Coming from anyone else, the words would be empty but she knows where I was a year ago. She knows where I was two years ago. She was there nearly every step of the way. I swear if it wasn’t for her I probably wouldn’t be here.
“I know. But how am I going to deal with seeing him every day? It’s going to be a constant reminder of that night.”
“What’s your other choice, Hope? Do you want to quit?” she asks even though we both already know my answer.
“No! I’m finally starting to get the hang of the job and I actually enjoy it.”
“So, you need to find a way to deal with seeing him every day because it doesn’t sound like he’s going anywhere anytime soon. Maybe just be…co-workers. You don’t have to be best friends with the guy just because you had sex. But if you’re going to stay at your job, you’ll need to find a way to coexist. Maybe you can find a way to think of him as something other than the guy from that night?” She signals the waiter for another round of coffee for both of us. Even though it’s late and I shouldn’t be having another cup, we both know my sleeping is already shit so having another cup won’t change anything.
“How? How am I not going to see him and not think about what happened? He looks exactly the same!”
“I don’t know. It’s not going to be easy. Maybe you can talk to him—”
“No!”
“You said you felt something for him that night,” she reminds me. “You told me over and over again how comfortable you felt with him, how you two just seemed to click even though you just met. I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t have gone back to his hotel room if you didn’t feel something for him that night.”
“And look where it got me!”
Even as I say the words, I know the argument that’s coming. It’s the same argument we’ve had hundreds of times over the last two years. The one where she tries to convince me that one had nothing to do with the other, even though she couldn’t be more wrong.
“What happened had nothing to do with your decision to go upstairs that night and deep down you know I’m right.”
“Maybe,” I lie. No matter how many times she’s told me that the outcome would have been the same if I hadn’t gone upstairs, I can’t help but wonder what if I hadn’t. What if I had gone home after the wedding and called my dad? What if I had called him on my way home? What if—
“If you don’t truly think you can do this and want to quit, you know you can always move back in with me.”
“I know,” I finish the gulp of coffee. “But I don’t want to quit. You’re right…I need to find a way to deal with this.”
“Good, now we’re getting somewhere.” She smiles. “So, tell me, is he still as hot as he was that night?”
Chapter 4
Garrett
Sitting in the parked car in the parking garage, I’m trying to figure out how to handle the woman upstairs who seems to want nothing to do with me. Over the last two and a half years, I’ve replayed that night in my head thousands of times. I’ll admit a few times it was when I was alone in the shower and the memories were around how fucking incredible she felt that night. But more often than not, I replay the night wondering what the hell went wrong that she left before the sun was even up. And each time I come up with the same result.
Regret.
We didn’t know each other, but at the wedding that night we just hit it off. Talking to her was like talking to someone I’d known for years. She told me about her dad and the classes she was taking in college to work towards her teaching degree. I told her a little about my time in the Marines and about my family. When we weren’t talking, we were dancing—we didn’t spend much time apart. When the reception started to wind down, I invited her upstairs to my room. I saw the hesitation in her eyes, and thinking back perhaps I should have decided for her and suggested she go home instead.
Much to my surprise though, she agreed and just wanted to tell her friend her plans. The night was fucking incredible: not only did she surprise me by coming up to my room, but she further surprised me a short while later when I learned she was virgin. Talk about unexpected. I gave her every chance to change her mind, but she insisted she wasn’t going any
where. Afterwards, I saw the uncertainty in her eyes, not knowing if she should stay or leave.
For me, there was no question. Even though I’m usually the first one to bolt after a one-night stand, that night I wasn’t ready for it to be over. So, instead, after taking care of the condom, I slid back into bed next to her and pulled the covers over both of us. I hadn’t intended to sleep so soundly. I actually had hopes for a quick nap before round two but when I woke up a few hours later the bed was cold and she was gone.
I never thought I would see her again, and figured that since I was shipping back out the next day, the one night was all we had. Perhaps I should have suggested before things got too intense that we keep in touch, but I knew asking her to wait two years for me was a lot especially since we had just met. I’ll never understand why she didn’t leave a note or something instead of just disappearing.
The other night was just…odd. I don’t blame her for acting a little off when our boss introduced us; I know I was the last person she expected to see that evening. But what I don’t understand was her reaction when it was just the two of us. It was obvious she was avoiding me, but why? Does she regret sleeping with me that much that she can’t even look at me? Did I hurt her that night without realizing it?
Fuck if seeing her standing there didn’t remind me of just how amazing that night was. I never felt so connected to a woman as I did with her. She looks the same, but also different. There was something in her eyes that wasn’t there two years ago. She was…guarded, something she hadn’t been with me before.
But she was just as stunning as that night—even in her simple navy blue dress that I can only assume is her uniform. Her dark brown hair was pulled back from her face, unlike at the wedding when it was down with gentle curls falling below her shoulders. A quick look at her showed that she lost weight, something that baffles me because she definitely didn’t need to lose weight the last time I saw her. The spark from her blue eyes is gone, replaced with something I just can’t put my finger on.
I shake my head, knowing that the answer isn’t going to just magically come to me all of a sudden. I’ve spent the last week ordering the upgrades necessary for the security in Mr. Meyer’s condo, courtesy of Emily and Luke at the office. I’ve also spoken with his security team and assistant at MSD so I’m prepared for next week.
Garrett (Dark Water Security Book 2) Page 2
