My appreciation for literature was a borderline obsession according to Talia, the woman behind the rumors. She didn’t understand my desire to own a first edition of Moby Dick. It was one of the reasons I knew we wouldn’t work as a couple. That and you don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Talia’s father was the boss at my old firm and I knew better than to dabble in the employee pool. But Talia didn’t care. She’d always done as she pleased. She was beautiful, intelligent, and a damn barracuda in the courtroom. She was a woman who was used to getting her way . . . until I refused her advances. And then, she was pissed.
Violet and I entered the museum together, and I quickly purchased our tickets, much to her disapproval. Her independence was admirable, but the scowl she donned as I pulled out my wallet first was downright cute.
I was so fucked. Because unlike with Talia, whenever I was around Violet, I was ready to chew that fucking hand off.
We stepped around a large tour group of guests, making our way toward the exhibit.
“Do you come here a lot?” she asked, leaning in to study a picture of a man holding a reflective sphere.
The level of detail Escher was able to incorporate into his work never ceased to amaze me. You could study the same drawing for a week and still discover a feature you hadn’t noticed before.
“Yeah. My mom used to bring my brothers and I all the time when we were growing up.”
“That’s really nice.”
“It is.”
“We didn’t have many art museums on the outskirts of Vegas.”
“That’s where you’re from?”
“Yep. Grew up just outside Sin City.”
“I’ve been a few times. I really liked it, but the next time I go out there, I’m going to see the Grand Canyon.”
“It’s really beautiful and definitely worth the trip. You’d like it.”
We perused Escher’s art, taking our time to stare at the intricacies of each piece. Violet stayed behind to admire one particular drawing while I moved ahead. After I finished looking at everything in this area, I turned to find Violet. She was across the room and, of course, there was a guy that had swooped in to talk to her. The woman was a walking testosterone magnet.
I headed over to her, and as soon as I was close enough, she wrapped her hands around my arm. “There you are!”
“Sorry, I got distracted by one of the drawings across the room,” I explained.
The guy who had approached Violet nodded to me. “I didn’t realize you were here with someone.”
“Yeah. It was nice meeting you though,” she replied, increasing her hold on me.
Together, we stepped away from the guy and followed the general flow of the crowd as it moved to the next section of artwork.
“You really can’t go anywhere without getting hit on, can you?”
“You’re one to talk!”
“Technically, I let you come to me.”
“Oh, that’s right. You were laughing at me.”
“I was laughing at that jackass’s attempt at having a conversation with you. He was an idiot who was clearly falling all over himself.”
“Thank goodness Mitch and I have an understanding.”
“Your plan is really smart, by the way, and completely unexpected.”
“Thanks.” I kept expecting her to release my arm, but she never did. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Were you disappointed when you found out I was your secretary?”
I considered her question for a minute. Was I disappointed? Truthfully, yes. But that was only because I was a man and was ridiculously attracted to this woman. Was it also nice that I got to see her while doing a job I loved? Hell yes.
“I get to work with you every day. What could possibly be disappointing about that?”
She grinned, running her fingers down the length of my arm. “You’re a nice guy.”
Her touch was exhilarating, like a jolt of electricity surging through each inch of my flesh.
“That’s what you keep telling me.”
“Well, in my experience, you’re a rare breed.”
“That’s amusing, because in my experience, you are the rare breed.”
“Me?” she asked, looking up at me.
“Yeah.”
“A twenty-seven-year-old secretary with a family history that belongs on the Jerry Springer show is a rare breed?”
“A twenty-seven-year-old woman who is as smart as she is kind and who isn’t obsessed with snatching up a man’s wallet is a rare breed.”
“Sounds like you’ve had a couple bad experiences with women.”
“I’ve had my fair share.”
Instantly, my thoughts turned to Natalie. The only thing she cared about was being taken to the nicest restaurants Chicago had to offer. Like me, she’d grown up accustomed to a certain lifestyle and that fact carried over into adulthood. Her goal in life was to snag a rich husband and spend her way through his bank account and retirement funds before getting knocked up. And I wanted no fucking part in that shit show.
Talia, on the other hand, I actually really liked at one point in time. We’d met when I was working at a small firm in Boston. We were both assigned to the same account for a man who split his time and businesses between Chicago and Boston. The first time I met her, I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was sexy and ruthless. After a few drinks, we eventually ended up fucking at my apartment. Not a month later, her father called me up and offered me a job. I had no doubts she was behind my sudden career prospects. People were expendable to Talia. She got what she wanted and relished in the fact too. As soon as I moved to Chicago, she was happy to pick up where we left off in my shower. But I refused. I didn’t fuck around at my place of employment. She assumed because I accepted the job her father offered, I’d become her personal pogo stick. To say she was furious at my refusal was an understatement. Talia wanted to control people, to play with them like pieces on a chess board, and I wanted nothing to do with her.
“I’m sorry,” Vi said, pulling me out of my daze.
“For?”
“Your bad experiences with women. Shit like that is hard, you know?”
“I know all too well.”
“If you ever want to talk about it, I’m a good listener.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Besides, you listened to me this morning.”
“I guess I did.”
“You did, and I really appreciate it.” When she smiled up at me, the expression reached all the way to her eyes. “Thank you for this, for today. I needed it.”
“Glad I could help.”
We walked past a few more drawings together and admired Escher’s work. I was glad Violet was enjoying herself. Even when I lived in Chicago, I made a point to visit museums and libraries frequently. But Natalie didn’t even attempt to feign interest when I took her to the Field Museum. Instead, she spent the entire afternoon scrolling through pictures on Instagram and rolling her eyes. To be honest, the only thing the woman had going for her was a pretty face. Beneath the surface, she was just a vapid, self-centered bitch.
“Do you need your arm back?” Her fingers clutching my arm tightened and, I swear to God, she batted her damn eyelashes at me.
As far as I was concerned, she could keep the fucking arm. If she wanted it, then it was all hers.
“Nope. Not really.”
“In that case, I’m keeping it.”
“You won’t hear me complain.”
“Honestly, I didn’t think I would,” she teased.
“Oh, so you think you know me that well?”
“Yeah, you’re an easy read.”
“How so?” I asked. I didn’t think I could be more intrigued by this woman, but Vi was continually proving me wrong . . . and I liked it.
She released my arm and spun to face me. We stood in the center of the room, works of art surrounding us at every turn. People stepped around us, bustling t
oward various parts of the museum. “For starters, you feel like you’ve got something to prove. Not just to everyone at work and your parents, but to yourself as well.”
“Given my previous work history, that’s pretty obvious.”
“Okay then.” Her expression hardened as she stared me up and down. “You want people to look past your exterior, past your pretty face, and see what you have to offer.”
Well, damn.
An ivy league education and a nice jawline are the only things anyone has noticed about me for a long time. Both Talia and Natalie made it clear they liked the way I looked. For most of my adult life, I never cared. But I was tired of living like my younger brother, Alex. Waking up with a different woman every morning had lost its appeal. The female sex could be just as shallow as their male counterparts, and I’d had my fill. I wanted something not based on money and looks. I was ready for something real.
“Your silence just told me everything I need to know.”
“It seems you are good at reading people.”
“Told ya.”
“And what would you say if you were reading yourself?” I asked.
She inhaled sharply as her fingers began toying with the handles of her purse. “I’d say I was a haunted woman who longed to be free from her past.”
I nodded slowly, absorbing her reply. “I can see that.”
If only I could help her.
“It’s fairly obvious if you look close enough.”
But I could help. We may not be able to have a romantic relationship, but I could help Violet as a colleague and friend.
“So are lots of other incredible things about you.”
She chewed on her bottom lip as she tried her best not to smile. I wanted more than anything to pull her in close and kiss her. We were in a room surrounded by strangers who had no idea Violet was my secretary. They would regard us as any other young couple. My right hand lifted to brace against her back. The need to touch her outweighed any conflicting emotions surging through my body. If she pushed me away, then I’d back off.
“I could say the same thing about you, Hunter.”
I swallowed thickly as her attention settled on the bottom half of my face. That was the first time she’d ever called me by my first name. And it sounded amazing rolling off her lips. She wanted me, I could tell from the way she looked at me. I inched closer, incapable of distancing myself from her. When she stood on the tips of her toes, I swear my heart began beating faster. Our mouths neared and quickly, the kiss we were about to share became inevitable.
But what about her reputation at the firm? She didn’t deserve to be pulled into the cesspool of rumors surrounding me.
Just as my lips were about to reach hers, I stopped. I would be cursing myself for this later, but after everything this woman had been through in her life, I refused to treat her with even the most minute amount of disrespect. “We probably shouldn’t,” I breathed, returning her gaze.
“You’re probably right.” Her disappointment was evident and fuck if that didn’t make me want to kiss her even more.
“I know you haven’t always been treated the way you should, and I want you to feel comfortable around me. I want you to know I respect you completely.”
Her nose brushed against mine playfully as she smiled at me. “I appreciate your consideration more than I can say.”
“I’m only trying to give you what you deserve.”
Her hands wrapped around my arm once more. “Should we finish the exhibit?”
“Absolutely,” I answered. “And then I’ll take you to Vito’s.”
The hold she had on my arm tightened at my words. “You are seriously my new favorite person.”
“That’s insanity.”
“How so?”
“Because you’re my new favorite person.”
“Don’t tease me, Hunter.”
“I’m being serious.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, good.”
We continued our perusal of the exhibit. The mathematical tessellations Escher employed were astounding. It was as if I was seeing multiple works of art within one another. I’d been to my fair share of art museums, but the man was a creative genius.
Violet kept her hold on my arm as we walked through the museum. And I was happy about it too. Not simply because I wanted her to keep touching me and vice versa, but the guy who had been talking to her earlier was tracking her every movement. Some assholes didn’t know when to stop. I removed my arm from her grasp and slid it around her lower back. She leaned into the gesture, her hands shifting to my waist. When we walked past that guy, I nodded in his direction. I had no actual claim on Violet, but over my dead body would he be talking to her again.
My desire to protect her was somewhat out of character for me. I’d never been possessive of the women I’d dated in the past. But there was something about Violet that resonated with me. I wouldn’t wish the things she’d had to face on my worst enemy, and I didn’t even know all the secrets surrounding her. She deserved to be protected for once, shielded against anyone who would do her harm. Vi confessed Nadine and Rhonda were the only people she allowed to get close. But I wanted to be someone Vi could rely on . . . I wanted to mean something to her.
Chapter Seven
Hunter and I sat at a small table in the back corner of Vito’s. It was odd to say his first name out loud. I suppose that was because I usually tried to think of him only as my boss. Establishing clear boundaries helped me remember the pale green eyes peering into my soul just across from me belonged to the man in charge of my paychecks. I was not supposed to give in to those eyes like I nearly did at the museum.
No matter how much I may have wanted to.
To say I was relieved to see him when that guy began talking to me was an understatement. I was there to enjoy art, to revel in the creativity of Escher, so the last thing I wanted was to be accosted by a stranger. Not that the man wasn’t polite, but he only had one reason for approaching me. And it wasn’t to inquire about my interest in Escher’s drawings. Here lately, any time I went out in public, I tried my best to give off unapproachable vibes. I didn’t want to be bothered, but despite my wishes, men seemed to keep coming out of the wood work. Honestly, didn’t anyone keep to themselves anymore?
“You seem to be deep in thought,” Hunter stated. He sipped on an espresso, his attention never leaving my face.
“Just thinking about all the artwork we saw today. Thanks again for taking me.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. There are a lot of people who probably wouldn’t have had as good a time as you did.”
“Speaking from past experiences?” I asked.
He nodded, setting down his drink. “So, what made you pick Boston?”
“You mean why did I choose to move here?”
“Yeah. If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to. I know you didn’t move here under the best circumstances, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.”
“It’s a silly reason actually. I chose this city because of the Boston Public Library,” I answered. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out that we didn’t have money growing up. We didn’t have anything really, but the library was always free. So, that was my escape after my mom died. I read all the time. I read so much, the librarian at my school let me check out as many books as I wanted.” I paused to take a breath and noticed that Hunter was leaning toward me as if he were hanging on to every word I said. “Well, that librarian was originally from Boston and she used to talk about the library here constantly. She said it was incredible. And I figured it was the right place to make my escape.”
“You love the Boston library?”
“Yeah, I think it’s beautiful.”
“That is my favorite place in the entire world.”
“Really?”
“I love to read. I used to beg my mom to take me there all the time when I was a kid.”
“I bet sh
e never minded taking you.”
“She didn’t.”
“I meant what I said last night. Your family sounds nice.”
“I’m sorry I keep bringing them up.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
“I know it has to be hard on you . . .”
I laid my hand on his wrist and hoped he would find reassurance in the touch. “I’m glad you have a nice family. I would never wish the unhappiness or pain I’ve experienced on another soul, so please, feel free to talk about your family as much as you want.”
“You’re the most surprising woman I’ve ever met,” he replied honestly.
“Surprising?”
“Yeah. I guess you’re just not what I’m used to.”
“Then what are you used to?”
“Shallow, self-centered women who only care about themselves.”
“Yikes. That sounds terrible.”
“It is,” he laughed. “Believe me.”
I finished off the last bite of my cupcake as I savored its sweet flavor. “So, what is the plan after we’re done here?”
“What do you want the plan to be?”
“I’d prefer it not to include alcohol. I woke up with one heck of a headache this morning.”
“Okay, so no alcohol.” He smirked, his expression teeming with humor. “In your defense, you did drink five glasses of wine at dinner. And depending on the glass, that could be equivalent to a bottle of wine by yourself.”
“This is true.”
“I guess that means you don’t want to stop by Eddie’s?”
“Not tonight.”
“Well, this doesn’t really count for dinner,” he replied, waving his hands over our empty plates.
“I’ll have you know that Vito’s cupcakes are part of a well-balanced diet.”
“Really?”
Burning Violet Page 7
