“It’s my boss, Mrs. Murphy,” Amy said and slid to her feet.
“It’s the copier again!” Mrs. Murphy shouted, then furiously summoned Amy again.
Ty reached out to put his hand on Amy’s arm. “You get to have lunch,” he said, annoyed on her behalf.
“Not when the copier’s broken,” she said with a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And she was gone, striding across the food court as the other woman visibly harangued her. The pair hurried toward the elevator, Mrs. Murphy gesticulating and Amy walking in silence.
Without a backward glance.
She really did have a shit job.
Ty spent the rest of his lunch wondering what he could do about that.
* * *
“Hey, your plan worked!” Kyle offered Ty a high five when he walked into the F5 building on Thursday night. Kyle was in the foyer, apparently just leaving for the day, but stopped when he saw Ty.
“What do you mean?” Ty returned the salute even though he didn’t know what it was for. He was still trying to think of how he could help Amy find a better job. They didn’t need anyone at Fleming Financial, and he knew she couldn’t afford to quit work and go back to school. He wasn’t even sure she wanted to do that. A bit late, he realized that he—like the guy in the story—hadn’t asked what Amy wanted.
It frustrated him that he couldn’t fix that until lunch the next day.
“We got a hit from the bookstore by your office,” Kyle said cheerfully.
“How do you know?” Ty’s gut clenched.
She hadn’t…
“Seriously? Cassie’s all about market research. She did these bookmarks advertising the intro course Pain and Pleasure 101 and put a code on each one to indicate the store where it was placed.”
“Of course, she did,” Ty acknowledged, amazed as always by the nuts and bolts of Cassie’s marketing.
“To the victor go the spoils,” Damon said as he joined them. “You should come help teach the class.”
“Get lucky. I hear it happens at F5,” Kyle said.
“All the time,” Damon agreed.
“I’d have to know something about mixing pain and pleasure to do that,” Ty said mildly. “I doubt it’s about enduring my mom’s phone calls. Or wedding plans.”
“How hard can it be to learn?” Damon teased.
“Oh, I sense resistance to erotic games,” Kyle said. “Don’t you think you should try it out, before you decide it’s not for you?”
“Just once,” Damon cajoled. “You might find out what you’re missing.”
Tyler spared an exasperated glance at all the gear for sale in the adjacent shop. “It’s so complicated.”
“He’ll always be our vanilla boy,” Kyle teased.
“Nothing wrong with that if it’s done right,” Cassie said in a sultry voice. Ty realized she’d been leaning in the doorway to the shop, listening to their conversation. She’d really gone with the dominatrix look on this day. She wore a pale blue latex dress that left nothing to the imagination and had her long blond hair pulled up into a sleek ponytail. “My demure look,” she said, with a curtsey. “You like?”
Tyler knew she wanted him to take a longer and better look, but he just shook his head. “Complicated.”
His imagination provided an image of Amy in similar gear, which was considerably more interesting.
“You might like the one who registered from the bookstore ad,” Kyle teased. “She looks as uptight as you. Probably will be doing research through Saturday to study up.”
“You’ve seen her?”
“She came in to ask for more information,” Cassie said. “And to confirm her registration.”
“Double-checking her online registration, like you two were twins separated at birth,” Kyle added.
“Checks and balances,” Damon said. “Double entry accounting.”
“What does she look like?” Ty asked, seeing his opening.
“Kind of cute, in a bookworm kind of way. Glasses.”
Ice slid down Ty’s back.
No.
“Maybe you’d have chemistry,” Damon added. “Great minds thinking alike and all that.”
“We should dare him,” Kyle whispered.
Cassie came to Tyler’s side, showing him the registration in question on her tablet. He ignored the way she put her hand on his arm, never mind the way she almost leaned against him. He could have ignored pretty much anything, once he saw the name on the form.
Amy Thornton.
His Librarian had registered for the Saturday BDSM Intro class.
One of his partners was going to tie her up and spank her, at her own request.
“You look stunned,” Kyle said. “Know her?”
“I just can’t believe the promotion worked that quickly,” Tyler lied. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Amy had really signed up for this.
Fiction was different than real life.
Wasn’t it?
And real life was stranger than fiction.
All of his protective urges came to the fore.
Would she tell him about it Friday night?
Should he ask her about it?
If she told him, he’d certainly try to talk her out of it.
Did Amy have a bigger secret than he’d realized? Did she have a secret life, one that was echoed in her reading taste? No. She wouldn’t have been taking the introductory course, if that was the case.
Ty wasn’t exactly relieved.
He felt a very primal and possessive urge to be the one who touched Amy, one that was completely at odds with his own view of women making their own choices.
But she’d made her choice.
And it would kill him if Kyle touched her.
“Maybe I will join the class,” Ty said, trying to sound casual. “Tell me more about what you do.”
“So, you can do your research?” Kyle teased, since Ty’s fondness for preparation was well known, and a usual target for jokes. “We’ll learn some basic knots. We’ll try out some blindfolds and gags, just so people can find out how it feels. The whole exercise is planned to build confidence and trust.”
“And sales from the gift shop,” Cassie added.
Kyle handed him a pamphlet called Ties That Bind. “She signed up for the class at one on Saturday. We can go over the material in the morning, if you want to be sure you’ve got it.”
“Good. Thanks.” Ty glanced up at a sudden thought. “What do you wear?” He had workout gear, of course, but it wouldn’t offer much of a disguise. Amy would recognize him, and that would look like too much of a coincidence.
Like he was stalking her.
On the other hand, maybe she’d like that. He pushed a hand through his hair, feeling that this was all way too convoluted.
“Oh no,” Cassie purred. “Not for the teacher. You need to look like a dangerous dom.”
“I’m not going to teach…”
“Sure you are,” Kyle insisted. “It’s more fun. Be my apprentice.”
“What if someone from work recognizes me?”
“Be his henchman,” Damon said with a laugh. “Go in disguise. That’s what I’m going to do. I’ll have a secret identity.” He lifted his brows.
“No,” Ty said, though he was intrigued by the idea.
“I’ve got just the hood for you,” Cassie said. “You can pump up beforehand and we’ll give you a big dangerous tattoo.”
“I’m not getting a tattoo.”
“Temporary, my friend, temporary,” Cassie said soothingly. “We don’t want to mess with perfection.”
“But you’d better book in tonight for a wax,” Kyle advised.
Ty held up a finger. “Never again.”
“You big wuss,” Kyle charged. “The girls like us smooth as velvet.”
“Says the blond,” said Damon. He made a circle with his finger and thumb. “Who has this much body hair to remove.”
Kyle looked insulted. “I’ll have you
know that I have twice that much, and it’s around my nipples. Very tender place and I’m a fragile flower.”
The other partners snorted at that.
“There’s nothing wrong with a little body hair,” Ty protested. “It’s natural.”
Kyle did a chimpanzee howl that echoed loudly in the lobby. “We’ll call you Conan,” he suggested.
“Tarzan,” Damon suggested.
“George, George, George of the jungle,” Kyle chanted, then did the yell from that cartoon’s introduction.
“Ty’s perfect just the way he is,” Cassie said. “No hair on his back.”
“I didn’t realize you’d checked,” Damon mused.
Ty was well aware that it wasn’t an accident how often Cassie met him on his way back to the change rooms from the weight room or the pool. She’d never been so forthright before, though.
He was surprised when she planted her fingertip on his chest and traced the length of his tie. “A perfect dark arrow, pointing down…” She halted at his belt buckle, eyes gleaming, but Ty lifted her hand away.
It was time to have a private talk with Cassie.
“I’ll shave tonight,” he said. “And I need a review of the course plan on Saturday morning.”
“You’re on,” Kyle said. “You could let Cassie paint your tattoo.”
“We’ve got these temporary ones in the shop,” she said. “Trust me. I’ll make it good.”
“Thanks,” Ty said, knowing that might provide the perfect opportunity for that overdue discussion.
* * *
Mrs. Murphy couldn’t have done a better job of giving Amy the motivation to write. She harassed Amy all day long about the stupid copier—which broke often because it needed to be replaced—and found her a zillion petty jobs to do. If Amy had disliked her job when she met Ty for lunch, by five, she despised it with every fiber of her being.
She charged home, fed Fitzwilliam, and wrote like a fiend. Sleep was a luxury she couldn’t afford.
Someone was smiling on her because for the first time in a month, Brittany didn’t call about a wedding crisis.
The only upside of Friday was that it was payday. Otherwise, the day was hell from start to finish. Amy only managed to take ten minutes at lunch and she used it to go down and talk to Ty.
He was sitting at what had become their table, and it gave her a huge rush of pleasure that he was obviously waiting for her. He read his Grisham book, but his lunch was unpacked on the table.
“Hi,” Amy said, stopping beside him.
He looked up, smiled, then evidently noticed that she didn’t have her lunch. His brows drew together in a frown as he stood up. “You don’t get lunch at all today?” he asked, his disapproval of that more than clear.
“Eating at my desk as I savor the joys of filing.”
“Always a time-sensitive job.”
“You’d think it was in our office.”
“What about your coffee?”
Amy was startled. “My coffee?”
“You always get one on Fridays,” he said with conviction and she was astonished that he’d noticed. He started to stand up. “Let me get you one. How do you like it?”
“Hot, but I don’t have time. Thank you, though.”
He gave her one of those sizzling looks. “You can take a coffee back to your desk.”
“But it won’t be hot by the time I can drink it. I love it hot, and one day, when the stars align, I’m going to buy myself one of those single serving coffee makers.”
“You can dream bigger than that.”
Amy smiled. “It’s a good dream.”
Ty cleared his throat as if he was going to say something but Amy lifted her hand.
“You’re right. My job sucks. I need to find something better. But today, I need to keep her happy so that I get my check. It’s a crap job but it’s the one I have, and your friend Red won’t find me a solution if I don’t have a job at all.”
“True enough,” Ty acknowledged. “And tonight?” he asked as if he expected her to cancel.
Maybe he wanted to cancel. The possibility made Amy’s heart skip, and she realized in that moment just how much she was looking forward to even a fake date. “Are you changing your mind?”
“Nope.” Ty smiled and at the sight of that dimple, all was right in Amy’s world again. “Remember it was my idea. I’m behind it a hundred per cent.” He eyed her warily. “Are you backing out?”
“No. We have a deal. I just can’t stay for lunch today.”
Ty frowned. “We’re going to talk about job prospects tonight.”
“We’re going to talk about family and background tonight,” Amy corrected. “And get our meet-cute story straight.”
“Meet-cute?” He looked puzzled.
She laughed. “The story of how we met. If this is a romantic comedy, it has to be a cute story.”
He got that beleaguered look that made her smile. “I was afraid of that.”
“It’s good you’ve seen so many chick flicks. We’ll come up with something good.”
“Parking lot?” he suggested.
“I don’t have a car. Subway platform?”
“They know I seldom take public transit.” He arched a brow. “Elevator? We could have talked to each other that day, so it could be true.”
He had noticed her. Amy felt warm all over. “Oh. Yes. It’s better to base things on the truth.”
“Absolutely. Less chance of forgetting the details.” Ty smiled at her. “Do you usually forget to push your floor?”
“It was a bad day.”
“No,” Ty countered, his voice dropping low. “It was a good day.”
His gaze clung to hers as he smiled and Amy felt a little dizzy.
Then she reminded herself that it was all a fake date. “Because it was our meet-cute.”
Ty didn’t argue. “So, since you don’t want me to pick you up, how about we meet here?” he suggested and Amy liked that he found a solution to accommodate her request. “We can walk to a place I like, if an early dinner is fine with you.”
“Yes, it is. That way I can take the train home before it gets too late.”
Ty looked as if he’d like to argue that plan with her.
Amy tapped her watch. “I’ve got to go.”
He nodded, resolved but unhappy about it. “Six?” He gave her a serious look, one that launched a tingle through Amy.
“Six,” she agreed a little breathlessly. “Right here.”
Ty smiled slowly, a feast for the eyes that would keep her humming all afternoon. “Deal. I’ll make a reservation.” He pulled out his phone, then hesitated. “Amy?” he said as she was turning away and her heart leaped at the sound of him saying her name. She looked back to find his expression serious. “Dietary restrictions or preferences?”
“None,” Amy said with a smile.
“Steak?”
How long had it been? Amy’s mouth was watering already. “Sounds good.”
At his nod, she hurried back to the elevator, anticipation bubbling inside her. It was an arrangement, but still.
She was having dinner with Ty. Fake date or not, she would have to have been dead not to feel a thrill about that.
Chapter Four
It could have been a business dinner.
Ty supposed that in a way, it was.
Funny that he didn’t feel as calm about it as he did for business meetings. He wanted everything to be perfect. He wanted the conversation to sparkle. But mostly, he wanted to watch Amy without any distractions.
Since Amy couldn’t go home to change, he didn’t either. She was wearing the same navy skirt and white blouse as at lunch, along with a plain jacket and the dreaded loafers. Her hair was still up and her glasses were still on, her large bag slung over her shoulder and her raincoat over her arm. She smiled with less radiance than the day before when she strode toward him in the building lobby.
Ty wanted to do injury to Mrs. Murphy.
Instead, he lifte
d Amy’s raincoat from her arm and held it for her. She hesitated, then smiled and turned around.
“Dreading dinner?” he asked.
“No!” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “Why would you think that?”
“You don’t seem as happy as before.”
“I should be, to be leaving that place for the day,” she said with heat. “I’m just a bit tired, that’s all. I’ve been up late a lot this week.”
“Me, too. We’ll make it an early night,” he said, claiming her elbow and guiding her to the door. He felt her start a little, and realized that she wasn’t used to a man touching her, even in such socially acceptable ways.
By her own accounting, she’d spent seven or eight years providing palliative care to her parents, then working at a crap job ever since. Ty was pretty sure that Amy Thornton hadn’t had a lot of fun since she abandoned college.
He wanted to give her some.
More than some.
They’d start with a good meal.
The restaurant was a favorite of his, a little bistro with an open kitchen and an awesome chef. It was dark and romantic, lit by candles even at this hour, and not anywhere near as busy as it would be by nine. They were given the table he favored, the one tucked out of view that he found more intimate, and their coats were taken away.
Amy ran an admiring hand over the banquette when she sat down. “It’s really nice,” she said in a small voice that told him a lot. “I thought we’d go somewhere more casual.”
“First date for our story,” Ty said. “They know I wouldn’t take a woman who interested me out for burgers and fries. I need to get back on familiar ground and tell the truth about everything again.”
“Everything?” she challenged with a bright glance and he knew where she was going.
“Everything.”
“Even the fake date?”
“That might have been the reason I talked to you this week, but I noticed you before,” Ty said, wanting her to understand that this wasn’t just about convenience. “And now I wish I’d done it sooner. How’s that for truth?”
Amy blushed a little. “Why me?”
“Because you read.” It was true.
Her eyes sparkled. “But you didn’t know what I read.”
“No. I assumed you were reading Jane Austen.”
Simply Irresistible Page 7
