Sex Becomes Her

by Regina Cole

  “You don’t have to do this,” Chandler said as he picked a parking spot marked Visitor close to the door. “You aren’t employed there anymore, so if you don’t want to, we can leave right now.”

  “It’s not that. It’s just . . .” She turned to him, and her eyes were so wide, so frightened. He wanted to drag her into his arms and protect her from whatever it was that made her so scared. “Just promise me you won’t talk to anyone. Stay in the car, okay?”

  It was hard not to feel like she was ashamed of him, but he shoved that notion to the back of his mind. “I won’t go anywhere unless you need me. Got your phone?”

  She patted her pocket. “Right here.”

  Reaching for the door handle, she swallowed audibly. Her body was so tense it was almost vibrating. He couldn’t let her walk off like this.

  “Liza.” He reached for her, turning her face to him. His soft kiss brushed her lips. Not passionate, not this time. Caring. Loving. He poured everything he wanted to do for her into that kiss, hoping that the brief touch would be enough to remind her that she was strong enough to handle whatever the meeting would throw at her.

  Too soon, he pulled away. He couldn’t make her late.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, then she opened the door. A cool gust of wind blasted into the car, and then she was walking quickly up the sidewalk and through the double glass doors of Quality Testing.

  Chandler folded his arms across his chest, his frown tight. He hoped she’d be okay. If not, someone would answer to him.

  27

  It was weird walking back in her building like nothing had ever happened. The cheesy pictures from the employee picnic were still posted on the bulletin board. She’d wondered how quick they’d erase all evidence of her employment, but there she was, holding a marshmallow on the end of a long skewer. Eliza quickened her step. She needed to get in and get out, fast.

  At the end of the entryway, she hesitated. She always used the stairs at work, mostly because her department was only on the second floor and using the elevator for such a short distance seemed lazy. And even when she had to go the fourth, and top, floor of their building, she’d always used the stairs out of habit.

  But to get to the stairwell, she’d have to pass Tyler’s office. No way. The last thing she wanted was to give him more ammunition. So instead of her usual right, she hung a left and punched the Up button beside the elevator door.

  She gave a wave and a tight smile to a couple of people from Cosmetics Testing. The guy called a friendly hello, but his female companion shot her a look and hustled away. The same old story. Eliza smothered her shame and anger as the elevator beeped its arrival. This wasn’t her fault. None of it was her fault. Chandler was right. She had to stick up for herself.

  The resolution lasted her approximately half a second after the elevator doors opened. All the blood drained from her head and she swayed for a moment.

  “Well, this is a surprise.” Tyler stepped out of the elevator, buttoning his suit jacket. The familiar sneer was on his face, draining every bit of attractiveness from his features. “I thought you’d already cleaned out your office.”

  Don’t say a word. He just wants to bait you. Get in the elevator and punch the Door Close button. She didn’t even turn his way, just stepped into the empty elevator. Punching the button for her floor, she then hit the Close button and prayed.

  Of course, Tyler wasn’t letting his favorite punching bag go that easy. He splayed his palm over the left side of the door, and the machine gave a defeated alarm.

  “Why are you here?”

  Keeping her gaze trained on the number pad, Eliza said only what was strictly necessary. “I was asked to come in. Now, please let me go.”

  “I thought you were off somewhere with your ‘friend’.” He made an air quote with his one free hand. “Did you run her off already?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  The anger, the disgust, the guilt she felt at ever allowing herself to be used by this guy swirled over her. She closed her eyes, wishing he’d just leave her alone already.

  “Hey, Eliza, come on, I just asked a question.”

  Her eyes flew open in alarm. Tyler leaned his head against the palm still holding the door open. His mouth curled up in the half smile he used to give her, the one that made her chest feel all warm and bubbly. His eyes had softened, no longer the eyes of a predator, now more the eyes of a lover. “There’s no need to be upset. You’re going up to see Dad, aren’t you? I was just up there, and he made me leave. If he’s doing the exit interview, just remember something for me.”

  Tyler leaned close, and Eliza fought the urge to scramble back against the wall. He made a motion to touch her cheek, and she flinched away. With a disappointed click of his tongue, Tyler dropped his hand.

  “Just remember that you were the one who touched me. And there was a witness.”

  And just like that, the soft eyes and half smile were gone, and the bitter mask was back. Tyler stopped blocking the elevator door and put both of his hands in his pockets, keeping her pinned with his gaze like a butterfly to a science project case.

  When she finally began to ascend, alone in the elevator, Eliza’s knees gave out. She collapsed against the wall behind her, sliding down until she crouched in the corner. Covering her face in her hands, she shook.

  It was too much. She couldn’t face the CEO right now. Not after that.

  When the elevator beeped and the doors whooshed open on the fourth floor, Eliza bolted to the nearest bathroom. Locking the door behind her, she leaned against it.

  Her breath was loud in the small room, the only other noise the quiet, occasional drip of the faucet.

  Breathe. Come on. You’re fine.

  But her chest was tight. Her ribs felt bruised from the heavy beat of her heart against them. Her legs were shaking.

  Come on. Pull it together.

  Several minutes later, after splashing four handfuls of cold water over her face, and drying it as best she could with the wrinkled brown paper towels, she stared into the mirror.

  Her cheeks were angry red. Her hat was still perched atop her hair, the fluffy red ball of her toboggan at a jaunty angle still. She pulled it off and smoothed her hair. Well, she wouldn’t win any awards, but at least she looked less like a vagrant now.

  One hand on the doorknob, she started to turn it. Then stopped.

  What if Tyler came upstairs again? What if she ran into him?

  Her hand fell into her pocket, the corner of her cell phone jutting into her palm.

  Chandler. She could call him, and he’d come inside and walk with her into the CEO’s office. He wouldn’t let her be afraid. She loved him, and she trusted him. He’d protect her.

  Her toes curled in her boots. Self-disgust swam up her spine, and she shivered. This had nothing to do with Chandler. As much as she loved him, this was a battle she had to fight on her own. There was nothing he could do for her that she couldn’t do for herself.

  With a decisive nod, Eliza gripped the handle and spoke aloud. “I can do this, Chandler. See you in a few minutes.”

  Her footsteps echoed in the hallway as she walked to the CEO’s office. The fourth floor was much emptier than normal—most of the top-level employees took off the last half of December. So there wouldn’t be any more awkward greetings to contend with before she made her way to the CEO’s administrative assistant.

  “Hi, Whitney,” Eliza said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’ve got an eleven o’clock meeting with Mr. Hagans?”

  Whitney smiled. She’d always been really nice to Eliza. “Sure. It’s good to see you. Come on, I’ll show you in.”

  Eliza watched the floor as Whitney walked toward the large oak door with the brass nameplate on it. Her knee-high boots had four-inch heels on them. Even at her most daring bombshell mode, Eliza hadn’t worn anything that tall. A wry smile twisted her lips as she remembered. Shopping for all those fancy clothes, putting on makeup every day, f
lirting with perfect strangers—Hawaii had changed her. And as she remembered the guy waiting in the car for her, her smile turned into a full-on grin.

  It had changed her for the better. So no matter what happened in this meeting, she’d be fine.

  “Go on ahead,” Whitney said, holding the door open for Eliza. She gave a wink as Eliza passed by and whispered, “Good luck!”

  “Thanks,” Eliza whispered back, giving Whitney a genuine smile. “I’m going to need it.”

  As the door shut behind her, the click was as soft as a prayer. She’d need those, too.

  Chandler checked the time again. Seven minutes. It had only been seven minutes since she went inside, and he was already wondering if it was too soon to storm the castle.

  He looked out the driver’s side window at the building beside him. The exterior was a grim gray, making it look like a correctional facility, despite the large number of windows and tasteful landscaping. The cars in the lot behind him were modest, for the most part, SUVs and sedans in white, silver, and black. Other than a couple of high-end sports cars parked close to the entrance, it looked like the parking lot of an elementary school.

  Chandler took a deep breath and checked the time again. Eight minutes. Damn, he thought he’d killed more time than that.

  Punching the radio’s Power button, he thumped his skull back against the headrest. Christmas music poured from the speakers, much too loud and much too cheerful. Nope, reminding him of the day they were supposed to be having right now wasn’t helping at all. A quick scan through the channels revealed tons of commercials, the latest and greatest overplayed shit, and a whole bunch of blah. He killed the power. Better to sit and stew in silence than to break Eliza’s radio in frustration.

  One more time check. Ten minutes. He looked at the building again, wondering if any of the windows facing the lot were to the room she was in. He hoped so, just for the simple fact that maybe she could look out and see her car, and remember that she wasn’t in this alone.

  God, he was a sappy ass.

  He plucked his phone from the cup holder and swiped to unlock the screen. There were plenty of ways to kill time on a smartphone, right?

  Of course, as soon as he opened the web browser, the sight of the gift he’d purchased for Eliza’s Christmas present slammed into him like a two-by-four. The beautiful designer purse that Sabrina had so graciously helped him to pick out wouldn’t be empty. No, the half-carat diamond earrings would be tucked safely inside for her to find.

  As he scrolled down the page, his previously viewed items were listed like a police lineup. Diamond solitaires weren’t something you could give a girl you’d only known for a couple of months, despite how strongly you felt about her. At least, that’s what his friends had said when he’d mentioned the idea over a couple of beers. And as much as Chandler hated to admit it, they were right. He loved Eliza, but she was gun-shy, and so was he. And with good reason, too.

  Thirteen minutes. He wasn’t really superstitious, but the number felt ominous, for some weird reason.

  Movement at the building caught Chandler’s eye. Three men were exiting, two of them zipping their jackets and talking animatedly. The third was wearing a suit and an ugly frown, heading straight down the walk toward the car while the other two hung a right and climbed into a beige SUV.

  Chandler returned his attention to the third man. Only two parking spots over, he was fumbling with the keys to a flashy Jag. But he kept looking at something in Chandler’s direction, his brow wrinkling further and his eyes narrowing.

  Chandler’s pulse increased and his muscles tensed. What a weird vibe from this guy. If he’d been on a job, he’d have snapped several pictures of the man. His demeanor and actions were incriminating as fuck.

  Then Suit Guy moved away from the Jag and stepped into the walk again. He walked closer to Eliza’s car, Chandler still sitting calmly inside. It was easy to spot the very second he noticed Chandler. His jaw dropped, mouth and eyes wide like a fish on a line.

  Chandler would have to take Eliza fishing someday. She’d probably really enjoy it.

  The mental side trip didn’t take nearly long enough or ease his worries at all. Suit Guy was coming toward the car, that ugly frown reinstalled on his face.

  Chandler reached for the door handle, ready for a confrontation, when Eliza’s plea popped into the forefront of his brain.

  “Don’t talk to anyone. Please.”

  Damn it. He dropped his hand and simply waited for Suit Guy to approach. He wasn’t going to talk. All he could do at that point was listen.

  “Who are you?” Suit Guy accompanied the question with a quick rap of his knuckles across the window. “This is Eliza’s car.”

  Oh well. It looked like his intuition had failed him this time. The guy was apparently being nice and looking out for Eliza’s car.

  Well, that would have been Chandler’s thought if he wasn’t on high alert already. As it stood, Chandler’s hackles were raised and he had to bite his tongue to keep from defending his—and his woman’s—turf.

  “Listen, if you’re with her, you should know about some stuff. I used to date her, and man, she is hard-core fucked in the head.”

  And with that, Chandler knew exactly who was standing outside the driver’s side door. The infamous Tyler, the one he’d been dying to airmail a right hook to ever since he’d learned the fucker’s name.

  Chandler’s pulse was flying now, his muscles twitching wildly with the effort to keep still.

  Seventeen minutes. Still not enough time.

  “Get out of the car and we can talk about it. I’m just looking out for a fellow bro.”

  Chandler’s eye roll was impossible to stop. But he stayed quiet, keeping a cool eye on Tyler. The guy was getting more and more pissed the longer Chandler stayed silent. It would have been funny if Chandler didn’t want to jump out of the car and break the asshole’s nose. At least he had to be freezing out there in the cold, wintry day. Hey, was that a snow flurry? Tiny white flakes began to appear on the shoulders of Tyler’s jacket as he knocked on the window again.

  “Seriously, you should run. I could tell you stories, man. Has she asked you to do anything weird yet? She will.”

  He wondered how much trouble he’d be in with Eliza if he jumped out of the car and introduced Tyler to the blacktop. Face-first.

  The door to the building opened, but Chandler couldn’t see who was coming out. Tyler was blocking his view.

  “Has anyone told you she’s a dyke? For real, she is. Tried to tie me down and have some leather-covered lesbian rape me. You’d better run if you don’t want her to do that shit to you. Eliza is a hard-core kinked-up lesbo freak, and she’ll ruin your life! She’s disgusting, she’s perverted, she—”

  “Shut up!”

  Chandler’s hand was on the door latch, and he’d already pulled it halfway open when he heard the female yell. Tyler stepped backward, and Eliza came into view. Her cheeks looked tear-stained, and her hat was missing.

  “Back off, bitch.” Chandler got out of the car while Tyler turned his guns toward Eliza. “I was just warning your friend here about what you’re really like. You pretend to be this geeky innocent, but you’re really just a horny devil bitch.”

  And with that, Tyler sealed his fate. He put a hand against Eliza’s sternum and shoved. She stumbled against the curb and fell backward onto the sidewalk.

  Chandler’s vision went red and he launched himself at Tyler. The crack of his knuckles against Tyler’s chin was so satisfying. The man squawked, windmilling his arms to maintain his footing. He couldn’t, and fell back against the hood of the Mustang next to him.

  “Get away from her,” Chandler growled, glaring at Tyler as if he could maim him from sight alone. “Leave. And if you ever lay a finger on her again, you’ll have to answer to me.”

  Tyler glowered, started to argue, then took a better look at Chandler. Chandler squared his shoulders. It was obvious that he was the taller and stronger of th
e two. Even if Tyler was stupid, he’d have no chance of winning.

  Chandler kind of hoped the guy was stupid. One punch hadn’t been nearly enough to quell his anger.

  28

  It took a long moment for Eliza to realize what was happening. She stared up at Tyler, who was leaning against the car behind him and holding his jaw in shock. Chandler’s fists were raised, and his face was dark with anger. Pain was spreading in her rib cage, and she pressed a hand there with a wince.

  Tyler had pushed her. She’d fallen down. Because he’d been in the midst of ruining everything.

  “No,” she whispered, the rough sidewalk scraping her palm. “No! Tyler, stop!”

  “You fucking prick,” Tyler said, shoving himself upright. “Who do you think you are? I don’t give a shit what you do with this whore, I was just giving you a friendly warning. She’s not into guys, she only wants to see you fucked—”

  Chandler bent his head down and barreled straight into Tyler. Eliza slapped a palm over her mouth to cover her scream. She wanted to get between them, to break it up, but fists were flying, then the pair of them fell to the pavement. Blood streamed from Tyler’s nose, and a bright-red smear marred Chandler’s upper lip.

  Scooting backward as fast as she could, Eliza finally reached the bumper of the car. Bracing herself on it, she managed to get upright. But it hurt to breathe. She wasn’t sure if the pain was physical or emotional. Truth be told, it didn’t matter. The end result was that she hurt, and Tyler was responsible. He’d ruined everything for her.

  Again.

  “What the fucking hell is going on out here?” The angry male voice jerked Eliza’s gaze from the fighting men in front of her to the doorway of Quality, where one very angry CEO was striding toward them. Two security officers were behind him.

  Shit. Someone from inside had seen what was going on.