I'll be there with bells on. I'll literally have bells on since the dress I bought for the occasion has two bells attached to the sash. "I'll be there."
Just as I turn toward the door of his office, my phone chime cuts through the air. I ignore it even though it's in my hand.
"You have a new message," he says from behind me. "It might be important."
Or it might be another reminder that I'm a month overdue for my dentist checkup. "It's nothing."
"It's something, Lark."
I pivot on my heel so I'm facing him directly again. "I think I would know if it was important. I assure you that it's nothing."
"Humor me and have a look." He points to my phone. "I guarantee this is something you'll want to see."
"Fine," I groan as I open the text message app on my phone to find his name at the top of the list. He sent me a photo less than thirty seconds ago. "What's this?"
"It's the consequence of you putting yourself in a compromising position."
I have no idea what the hell that's supposed to mean so I do the only thing I can. I open the message and scroll down until the attached photo pops into view.
"How?" I whisper under my breath as I stare at a picture of the small heart shaped tattoo that's on the inside of my left thigh. "You can't have a picture of this. Where did you get this?"
He sighs as his fingers glide over his phone's screen.
"Tell me where you got this." I wave my phone in his direction as my face heats. "Are there cameras installed in the women's washroom? If there are, that's illegal. I'm calling the police."
My phone chimes again just as he speaks. "This next picture might jar your memory. Take a look."
Next picture? How many goddamn pictures of my bare thigh does this man have?
My hands shake as I open the message he apparently just sent. There's a photo attached to this one as well. I scroll down, my breath catching as the image comes into view.
My tattoo is the focus of this one too, but there's more. The pink lace panties I'm wearing are visible. The fact that they're slightly askew means a sliver of my pussy is on display. I was obviously on my back in this picture since my face is partially visible in the distance.
Holy shit. No. No. No.
I cradle the phone to my chest, blocking the screen from his view even though he's obviously already seen both pictures. "How did you get these? Who gave them to you?"
He stands, his fingers buttoning his suit jacket. "At the holiday party a year ago you announced to the room that you were uploading all the pictures you'd taken of the festivities to a gallery on the company's server."
I remember that. I'd just started working at Matiz a month before the party. I wanted to do something nice for my co-workers so I used my phone to snap dozens of pictures during the party of everyone enjoying the food and appetizers.
"Apparently I was the only one listening to you," he goes on. "I checked out the gallery later that night, and to my surprise, you'd uploaded those two very personal pictures along with the images you took of your intoxicated co-workers."
I swallow past the large lump in my throat. "I uploaded those two pictures to the company server?"
He rounds his desk and approaches me. "You uploaded them, and I deleted them. I doubt anyone had a look at them before I removed them."
I should thank him, right? I should thank him for keeping my pussy private.
"I had no idea I did that," I manage to say.
"I assumed it was a mistake, Lark. You did have more than your fair share of red wine that night." He strokes his chin, his eyes studying my face. "I highly doubted that you'd deliberately compromise yourself that way."
Is this a lesson? Is he throwing my words back in my face? What a jerk. What a distractingly good-looking jerk.
"I appreciate you looking out for me." I twist my mouth into what I hope resembles a half-assed genuine grin. "Thank you for deleting them from the server."
His lips purse and I wonder for a brief second if he's going to kiss me again. It only happened once under that cilantro scented mistletoe. I've wanted it to happen again ever since but he hooked up with Gem, the ultimate social media ass. Or she has the ultimate ass according to social media. Either way, he was kissing her and not me by the end of January. They've been on and off over the course of the last year but it didn't make any difference in my life. Everything between us since our one and only kiss has been all business.
His phone rings. He answers it quickly. I don't hear the words he's saying. I'm too busy staring at my phone.
I took these two pictures of my tattoo for a guy I broke up with before I started working here. I scrubbed my phone of every reminder of him when he texted me last Valentine's Day out of the blue wanting to hook up. I don't have those pictures anymore yet Mr. Moore still does.
I tap him on the shoulder as he speaks to someone about the upcoming trends in eyebrow pencils. "Mr. Moore, I have to ask you something."
He shoots me a look accompanied by a thrust of his index finger in the air.
Is that supposed to be a warning for me to be quiet?
I shake my head. "This is urgent."
He presses his phone to the front of his suit jacket to block out our conversation from the person he's talking to. "I'm in the middle of an important call, Lark. Whatever it is, will need to wait. You're excused."
I'm excused? Does he think this is fifth grade? I move past him and sit back down in the chair I was in earlier. "I'll wait until you're done."
"You'll leave now."
"I can't," I say with a tremor in my voice. "I need you to explain something to me."
"This call is important, Lark." He moves to my side. "It requires my attention. Please leave."
I look up at his face. He's serious, deadly serious. I don't want any part of this conversation to get back to Crew, so I haul my ass back out of the chair and face him. "I'll go, but I need to speak with you as soon as possible."
"Fine." He waves his hand in the direction of his door. "See yourself out."
I curse under my breath as I open the door, walk through and slam it shut behind me.
Chapter 4
Ryker
Crew Benton's younger sister is everything I'm not supposed to want. She works for me. She's related to my boss. She's got the sweetest smile I've ever seen, and she smells like she took a bath in a mountain spring. She's innocence personified. She's not my usual type at all unless you consider that tattoo on her thigh.
That damn small heart tattoo that has haunted me since I first saw those two pictures a year ago.
I knew immediately it was her when I scanned that ridiculous gallery of pictures she'd uploaded the night of the Christmas party. I imagine her intention was to gain someone's favor by capturing the evening's events. The only reason I scrolled through the images on the laptop in my office was to delete any of me.
I had a few too many beers as I shot the shit with the employees who run their asses off every single day for me. I had somewhere else to be, but when I saw Lark standing in the corner alone, I couldn't remember anything.
I got a small taste of what I wanted for Christmas when I kissed her under that cilantro some idiot bought as a pass-off for mistletoe. It was hung near the elevators, and when I walked out of the crowded conference room to see Lark standing beneath it, I caved.
I craved a taste of those perfectly shaped, full, pink lips. I got it when she turned, tilted her neck back and offered her mouth to me after I tapped her on the shoulder and pointed at the cilantro. We didn’t exchange a single word, just a kiss that I've never forgotten. She broke the kiss when the elevator doors flew open, and two of her co-workers stepped off. She stepped on and was gone in a flash.
"Ryker? What the fuck is going on between you and Lark?"
Daydreams about a woman you want to screw should never be interrupted by her brother. Why the fuck did I agree when Human Resources told me that Lark was a great fit for the marketing division? I thought
I'd be able to look past how attractive she is. I was confident that I'd be able to ignore the way she looks at me. It's been a struggle every single day since I met her.
"Hey, Crew," I shoot those two words off my tongue with as much cheeriness as I can muster. "What's up?"
He stands in the doorway of my office. He bears no resemblance at all to Lark. She's a blonde. His hair is as black as mine. Her eyes are a shade of soft shade of gray. His are green. There's no way to tell they're related based on appearance. The only similarity between the two of them is their effort to distance themselves from the Benton name. Their parents own half the real estate in Manhattan, yet neither of them works for them. I've overheard Crew grumbling to Nolan Black, the co-owner of Matiz, about how controlling his father is. The elder Benton has to be a fucking tyrant if two of his four children want nothing to do with him professionally.
"Word around the office is that you ordered Lark in here after the meeting this morning." He doesn't hesitate as he steps toward me. "Why?"
I scramble for something to say that isn't related to my dick pictures or that photo that shows the barest slice of her smooth pussy.
"We were discussing the holiday party for our division."
Not a complete lie. We talked about last year's party.
"You're fucking fired if you told her about the surprise, Ryker." His eyes narrow on me. "Tell me you didn't spill the beans."
"What beans?" I shoot back when I realize the grin on his face means he's kidding about firing me. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You play dumb well, Moore." He taps my chest with his finger. "You did this same song and dance with her, right? Tell me that she still thinks there's an office Christmas party tomorrow night."
I still think there's an office Christmas party tomorrow night. I had plans to be there. I've vowed to steer clear of any beverages that are stronger than water and anything that resembles mistletoe. I may be single since I dumped Gem, but Lark Benton is still on my I-wish-I-could-fuck-but-I-can't list.
"She thinks there's an office party tomorrow," I say smoothly. "She has no idea about the surprise."
"Good," he replies over his shoulder as he turns to leave. "My baby sister deserves the surprise birthday party of her dreams. I don't want a soul to fuck it up."
***
"Christmas Day?" I repeat back to my assistant. "Lark Benton was born on Christmas Day?"
"She's a Christmas angel." He gives me a sly smirk. "She's beautiful. I wouldn't say she's as beautiful as Crew, but he's more my type."
I don't need him to elaborate on that. I've caught him checking me out on more than one occasion. John does his job like a champ. He proved that just now when he pulled up Lark's personnel file for me just as Crew was stepping onto the elevator to go back up to his office. This is one time I'm grateful that he overheard my conversation with Crew.
"Did you know about this surprise birthday party, John?"
"I'm out of the loop." He circles his fingers in the air. "Everyone who is anyone here at Matiz knows I swore off mixing business with pleasure years ago. I don't socialize with the folks here. No one in this office can party as hard as I can, present company excluded, of course."
I nod. "You need to find out where this birthday party is."
"You're not going, Ryker."
What the fuck is that? I go where I want when I want. I'm going to that damn birthday party because I'm her boss and I should be there. It's the right thing to do. It has nothing to do with wanting to see her outside the office. There's no reason I can't look at her. I'm beginning to wonder if my reasons for not touching her are worth it.
"I'm going," I insist as I lean both hands on his desk. "You're going to poke around until you find out where that party is and then you'll chat up her friends in marketing to find out what flowers are her favorite so I can arrive at this party with those in my hand."
"You'll never pass for Prince Charming." He types something on his laptop keyboard. "Are you taking Gem with you?"
"I dumped her."
"Again?" He stops typing long enough to clap his hands together before his fingers move swiftly over the keys again. "Can I wager a bet on how long it will be before you're back together?"
"We're done for good this time." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I need you to focus on Lark's party. You'll get me that information now, John. I need it within the hour."
"Will do, boss." He reaches down to open one of the drawers of his desk. He pulls out a gift bag that's decorated with a festive design and tied shut with red ribbon. "I got you this as an early Christmas gift."
"Your gift from me will be delivered to your apartment on Christmas morning," I tell him, not giving anything away with my expression. The gift is his mom. I'm flying her to New York from Tallahassee. She'll deliver a message to him from me. He has two weeks to spend with her before she flies back home. I'm giving him an extra week of paid vacation that he's not expecting.
"What's this?" I reach for the bag, contemplating its weight in my hand. "It's not another book about how to forge meaningful human connections, is it?"
"That was obviously a waste of money." He scoffs. "It's a bottle of Matiz's best suntan lotion. Slap some of that on your ass the next time you let everything hang loose on the beach, boss."
"I should fire you on the spot." I chuckle.
"You can't," he volleys back as I head into my office. "No one else would put up with all your bullshit, Ryker."
Chapter 5
Lark
"Everyone at work was acting off today." I toss my purse on the marbled gray granite countertop. "It's been a shitty two days, Isla."
My best friend, Isla Foster, scoops my purse into her hands. "Where is this from? I've never seen this before."
"Way to console me after the two bad days I've had." I wiggle two of my fingers in the air. "Where's my 'everything is going to be fine, Lark,' speech and hug."
"That's coming." She twirls the red tote in her hands. "This isn't a designer bag. Tell me where you got it. I want one."
"Dexie made it." I tug it from her hands and dump the contents on her kitchen counter. "You can have it, Isla. Dex gave me a new one as an early birthday present the other day. It's a cute purple satchel."
"Dexie? That girl you work with made this bag?"
"Yup." I nod my head as I push my wallet into my coat pocket. "Her designs are beautiful. She sells them online. I can send you the link to her website."
"Send it." She shoulders the bag. "Are you ready for the Matiz holiday party tonight?"
"No," I answer truthfully. "I'm not sure I'm going."
"You're going."
"It's not a mandatory work thing. It's just a small get-together for people who work in marketing." I eye an apple in a fruit bowl. "Maybe I'll just eat that apple for dinner and go home and watch Christmas movies while I stuff my face with popcorn."
She picks up the apple and tosses it to me. "Eat it and then go home and get dressed. You'll regret not going to the party, Lark."
"Why would I regret it?"
She smooths her ponytail with her hand, pushing a few wayward strands of her long blonde hair back into place. "If you don't go to that party, the people you work with will assume that you think you're above them because of who your brother is. Don't set yourself apart from them, Lark. Prove that you're just like all of them."
I try to push a lipstick into my pocket, but there's no room. "I'm not just like all of them. I know they say things about me behind my back. I thought it would be easy working at Matiz, but it's not, Isla. I'm not even sure that anyone there genuinely likes me for me."
"You're just feeling sorry for yourself. Your twenties are slipping away from you. You'll be twenty-four in a few days." She rests her hands on my shoulders. "I'll feel the same way on my twenty-fourth birthday in a few months. I'll have my own pity party as I kiss my youth goodbye."
I burst out laughing. "You're hilarious. You have a perfect life. You're killing
it at Juilliard. You're married to Gabriel Foster and you have a beautiful daughter. You're the last person who will ever throw themselves a pity party."
"I do have the perfect life." She stares at her wedding rings. "Gabriel is taking me to Italy in the spring. It's my Christmas gift. He told me last night. We'll take Ella with us. He called in some favors so I can play my violin with one of my idols in Tuscany. It's a dream come true."
Since I met Isla eight months ago while we were both standing in line at a coffee shop, I've never envied her. I've always been happy for her and the life she's built for herself. I want a life that fulfills me too, but a husband and a baby girl aren't in the cards for me yet. I'll settle for a night at home alone hidden under the covers of my bed. I'm still embarrassed about those two images of my tattoo Mr. Moore sent me yesterday.
"Promise me you'll take lots of pictures." I cup her chin in my hand. "Promise me you'll be safe there."
"I'll guard her with my life." Gabriel strolls into the kitchen with his daughter on his hip. "I won't let Isla or Ella out of my sight. Italy is just the beginning of our adventures."
I reach forward to plant a kiss on Ella's cheek. "I have a gift for Ella for Christmas. Can I drop it off tomorrow?"
"No." Isla shakes her head. "I thought you were spending part of Christmas Day with us. It's your birthday, Lark. I'm going to bake a cake."
"We're going to order a cake from Dobb's bakery for you," Gabriel interjects. "Isla will pick up a pint of mint, chocolate chip ice cream from Cremza too."
The fact that he remembers my favorite ice cream shop and flavor touches me. I have three brothers of my own, but Gabriel has proven in both words and actions, that he has the emotional capacity to love anyone his wife does. He may be one of the shrewdest businessmen in all of Manhattan, but his heart is as soft as Isla's is.
"Stop by after dinner at your parent's house on Christmas Day, Lark." Isla tugs at my hand. "Come over and have dessert with us."
"Deal." I scoop my phone, my lipstick and my compact mirror into my hands. "I have to go get ready for the party I don't want to go to."
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