Next To Me

by Amabel Daniels

  “Well?” she demanded.

  “What?”

  She thunked her forehead to the granite countertop she was smashing her chest on. I might have taken a teeny chance to check out her ass as I’d walked in, but I knew better than to attempt glancing at her cleavage.

  “Can you please help me?”

  I lowered my arms and shrugged. “Maybe. If you tell me what the hell’s going on. Richard asked me to check up here—no reason.” I raised a brow and waited.

  She rushed out a ludicrous story about an asshole of a cupcake that Felicia rejected. Inside was an engagement ring that Carly was supposed to deliver to the spoiled brat our boss decided was the fourth One.

  “You don’t feel it in there?” I slanted closer to study her arm in the hole. Damned skinny arms ya got there. Then again, it was a commercial sink and large disposal. Carly wasn’t a stick figure the same as she wasn’t heavy. Just…normal. Healthy. And currently stuck, regardless of her physique. People weren’t supposed to enter drains, after all.

  “I did. But I think I pushed it away. Thing is, my ring is caught on the blade. I can’t move my fingers far because I can’t let it come off.”

  I huffed a laugh. “Let it go and buy a new one.”

  “I can’t.”

  I deadpanned at her.

  “It’s…special.”

  Why? Because it was her old engagement ring? For as jaded as she seemed, it was unlikely she’d hang on to it as a memento. Maybe a family heirloom. Curiosity took root because she wasn’t a materialistic kind of gal. Didn’t matter, really. Whatever was in there would be better retrieved from the bottom.

  Lucky for her, my dad was a plumber. I’d watched him disassemble a disposal before.

  “Stay right here.” I headed for the door.

  “Funny. Really funny.” She craned her neck as far as she could to watch me leave. “Where are you go—”

  “I need tools.”

  Minutes later, I returned with a kit and came up behind her again. I eyed the sliding cabinet door that led to the sink’s access underneath. My gaze couldn’t help but trip on her lean legs splayed open. Yet, still not far enough. I cleared my throat, in case she’d forgotten I was there. She was the only woman I’d met in my life who found it imperative to dismiss me as much as possible.

  “You’re going to have to…uh…” I tapped the wrench on a spot of creamy skin near the lower inside of her thigh.

  She jolted up at the metal on her skin and knocked her head onto the faucet. “Dammit, Mav!”

  I grinned despite a smidgen of guilt. “No need to be so jumpy, darling. Spread your legs.”

  She froze. “Ex-cuse me?”

  “You heard me.” I lightly tapped the wrench on her leg again. Grinning wider at the fact she didn’t jump again, I wedged my knee at hers. “I need to get underneath.”

  Incoherent mumbles came from her after she dropped her face to the sink. It didn’t hide the red hue on the tips of her ears that showed through her caramel curls. Didn’t mask her cussing me out and complaining something about assholes—couldn’t tell if she meant the cupcake, our boss, or me.

  But she obediently widened her stance, stretching her toned calves. Once I could slide open the cabinet door and begin to crawl under, I held my breath and refused to take advantage. If a woman was letting me between her legs and beneath her—in any circumstances—I wanted the permission to linger and appreciate her beauty given to me, not stolen.

  Inside the access space, I turned on my phone’s flashlight and propped it up so I could see. It didn’t take me long to locate and untighten the bolts and screws holding the drain to the disposal together.

  “You doing all right up there?” I yelled out to her.

  “Fine.”

  She’d bit it out like she was anything but. I didn’t blame her. If Richard wanted this ring on Felicia’s hand, he could have been man enough to give it to her. Not pass the buck to his assistant and assume she’d know what was inside the dessert.

  There was no point commiserating with the brunette spread out on the counter above me. She knew as well as I did how Richard could be. Just as, I assumed, she knew he paid us well, perhaps too well, so that we’d remain loyal employees. We weren’t delusional to tough out Richard’s demands, but well, the guy paid really well.

  Last bolt. “I’m almost all the way in.”

  “Uh-huh. That’s what they all say.”

  I chewed on my lip at her sneering retort. Feisty little lady has a dirty mind, does she? She didn’t show that side often, but when she did, she lacked the too-eager raunchiness another woman would have.

  As the bottom of the disposal dropped, I caught it and lowered it. Her fingertips wiggled in the void. When I set the bottom onto the ground, a faint clink of more metal hitting something sounded.

  “I think I got it.”

  “Finally.”

  “Oh. So sorry I wasn’t instructed to get here faster.”

  Her leg shifted outside the cabinet space. “Not you. Just…finally.”

  I reached into the opened container and felt her fingers. Groping for the core of the blade rotator, I found her trapped finger and ring and eased them free. “There ya go.”

  She slid off the counter and put her fallen shoe back on, her heels tapping on the floor. I scooted out of the cabinet and then dusted my suit off as I stood in the kitchen.

  Stretching her neck side to side, she also rolled her shoulders.

  Couldn’t have been fun staying in that position. If I knew she wouldn’t react with venom I couldn’t understand the reason for, I’d offer to rub out the soreness. Probably too intimate. The arm she’d trapped in that drain was a different story.

  I reached for her forearm to inspect the red ring around her firm flesh. My paramedic training was damned hard to let go of, no matter how long it’d been since I’d worked the field.

  “Numb?”

  She exhaled long and steadily but didn’t snatch out of my grip. Instead, she watched as I pressed my fingers to her arm, kneading the band marked on her. “Kinda.”

  In a weak jazz hand, she wiggled her fingers. I barely caught a glimpse of a small ring on her middle finger but she held up another, gaudier and flashy one in her other hand.

  Whistling, I took the engagement ring she’d picked up from the floor. If Felicia was Richard’s fourth bride, did that mean he’d accumulated the size of the rock with each marriage? How else could he justify sticking a freaking boulder of a gemstone on this?

  “Damn…”

  She shook her head as I peered at the bling. Still holding her forearm, I rubbed my thumb back and forth on the dent in her flesh from the drain. It was getting kind of hard to stop touching her, and it was becoming even more challenging to realize she was letting me.

  “Thank—”

  Before she could finish a rare expression of gratitude—not that she never said it, but because she truly never asked anything of me—the door opened and slammed shut. Richard hurried in, his polished loafers squeaking with his dragging steps. In one sweep of his steeled gaze, he took in the both of us facing each other. Carly’s left hand in my right, and his ring in my left.

  “Don’t tell me you’re proposing today too.”

  Carly snorted and dragged her arm free.

  I laughed once.

  Richard narrowed his eyes. “Wait, that’s my ring.”

  She collected it from me, rinsed it under the water, and then slapped it into our boss’s hand. “No, it’s Felicia’s. Correct?”

  “Then why isn’t it on her hand?” Richard fluffed his thinning, too-long hair.

  “Maybe because she didn’t know it was waiting for her?” Carly rubbed her forearm. “And it’s not like you proposed. Maybe next time at least eat with her? Make sure she opens the cupcake?”

  He shook his head and mimicked her actions in reverse. After grabbing her hand and slapping the jewelry in it, he closed her fingers around the item. “No. I already told you. I expe
ct you to deliver it to her.”

  “I’m not proposing for you!”

  I let my lips curve up. I wasn’t laughing at her. With her. Was he for real? He couldn’t even ask himself?

  Richard mocked a chuckle. “You’re not. Just get the ring to her. She’ll know it’s from me. Jeez.” He met my gaze and grinned in a conspiratorially manner, as though to say, she’s being so ridiculous.

  I sobered, because…hell. She was right. He wanted to hitch himself to the airhead of the century, he should get some balls and ask.

  “Richard, it would be more…romantic if you did it.”

  He set a hand on his hip and reared back. The Imma be the king here, okay? pose. “I don’t have time to be romantic.”

  Then how are you going to have the time to be a husband?

  I refrained from smirking. The dude had gone through a series of wives. His idea of matrimony had to be skewed, to say the least.

  “I have a board meeting to prepare for tomorrow morning. And an interview for the CFO. And—”

  Carly shot out an impatient breath through her nose. Holding her hand up, she silenced him. “Okay. Okay! Is she at home? I’ll drop it off now.”

  He shook his head. “She left after lunch for a visit to her aunt.”

  Again, I fought laughing out loud. Her grimace, God. It was—she was—so animated.

  “Which one?” she asked.

  “In New York.” Richard dismissed her with a wave. “The company jet’s being serviced, so get a flight. It’s Friday. Violet can go with you, huh?”

  “She’s away for a camp.”

  “Even better.” Richard clapped his hands once, like a coach breaking a huddle. “You know where to find her.”

  Carly and I had both dealt with the details of Richard accompanying Felicia on trips out of Florida. Never as last-minute as this, though.

  “So, that’s it. Just up and go. Give your girlfriend your ring.”

  In a petulant whine, Richard ducked his head, like even holding that balding bowling ball of a noggin was too much of a hardship. “I can’t just run after her right now, Carly. This is what I pay you for.”

  She nodded and smirked. “I’ll be sure to update my job description.”

  “And the faster you get moving, the faster you’ll be able to deliver it to her.”

  “Okay.” Shaking her head, she went to the counter and grabbed her phone and bag. She set the ring in a zippered pocket on the side of her purse and slung the strap over her shoulder. “Okay.”

  “I’ll expect a call once she has it.”

  “Uh-huh.” Carly saluted him. “I’m going. I’m going.”

  As she walked past us for the door, she met my gaze with a raised brow. “See you later.”

  I tilted my chin in acknowledgment.

  As soon as she was gone, Richard ducked his head, as though he was trying to get to eye level with me. Might have worked if I wasn’t a foot taller than him.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  Me? I frowned at him. I wasn’t due to complete any specific tasks. I’d been going over summaries of surveillance reports for the building—which were boring at times—when he’d ordered me to this office kitchen for no reason. My Friday was another ordinary workday for the head of security at Young, Inc.

  “Nothing?”

  He shot his squinted attention to the ground for a second. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leveled his stare at me. “What, are you going to teleport to the airport?”

  Airport…

  I jerked upright a little more, not that I was slouching to begin with. “I’m flying…”

  “You sure as hell aren’t driving to New York!” He shook his head as he went to the refrigerator. With a bottle of mineral water in his thick hand, he scoffed and returned to face me. “The ring? Felicia?”

  “I’m going?”

  He gaped at me. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

  More like why would I be, but…semantics. Whatever. He didn’t need Carly and me to propose for him. Jesus.

  “That rock is worth twelve million dollars. When it was here”—he pointed a finger to the ground—“I knew I could trust the security on my own property.”

  When I didn’t reply, he groaned and said, “I can’t have her going to New York with that ring unsupervised. Jeez.”

  “Of…course.” Still, I didn’t move.

  “So…what. Are. You. Waiting. For?”

  Mostly? For the fact to sink in that Carly and I were heading out of town together. Alone—with her. I’d be dispatched away from the routine places we frequently crossed paths. After the light teasing we’d exchanged in here, it seemed like an extra thrill to spend more time with her. Being in her presence never failed to have me wanting more—anything more from her.

  Sent off to the Big Apple together, I’d be sure to get my fill.

  Three

  Carly

  So… New York… I people-watched the bustle of travelers at the airport. Okay. Here I come.

  I said that to Richard frequently, in what I hoped didn’t sound like a tweeny indifference. Okay. If I let my backbone take precedence over my need to gain an income and provide for myself and my daughter, Mr. Young the Third would likely get a taste of my opinion while I agreed to the tasks he assigned me. Especially the weirder ones like what he’d given me in the kitchen post-garbage-disposal digging.

  As I stood in the terminal to depart at Orlando’s airport, I realized I wasn’t as peeved at his latest request as I could have been. An impromptu flight to New York to chase down the mindless bimbo he wanted to marry?

  Mkay.

  Had he instructed me to play tag and seek Felicia out during the school week, when I’d have zero-to-no chance of finding someone I’d trust to watch my ten-year-old, I would’ve refused. Richard was not only aware of my relocated, divorcee, single-mama status, but he was surprisingly accommodating as well. He never required me to travel outside of Orlando, seldom had me working after five o’clock, and respected that I had a kid who could get sick and not obey a nine-to-five regimen.

  Today, though…a spontaneous trip to the Big Apple?

  I grinned and licked the remnants of coffee lingering on my lips. Lowering the cup, I propped a hip to the concrete wall of a planter in the middle of the airport.

  Today, I was kind of excited to get out of town. To do something new. Violet had left the last weekend for a two-week camp in Key West—an expensive and “mandatory” field-trip camp for her science class. The past week was fun…until I got bored.

  Since we’d relocated to Orlando from Kentucky eight months ago, I hadn’t had any true time off. So, when my only kiddo left the nest for a trip, I did what any other sleep-deprived and stressed-out single parent would do. I slept in. Took after-work naps. Ate whatever the hell I wanted, as in no chicken nuggets, no fruit snacks, and no mac ‘n’ cheese. Well, I did get some cheesy noodles from the Italian takeout last night. But at least I didn’t cook it. And it was a divine gift from the carb lords I’d been neglecting with this stupid diet.

  I’d spent my first free weekend alternatively binging on mindless, time-sucking random videos on social media and then brainwashing myself to a serial killer series, four seasons of Trailer Park Boys, and three of the most recent Mission Impossible movies. Read some books, too, but even that burned me out. Being alone, I realized, was kind of overrated. Or maybe supreme laziness was. I was kind of disappointed.

  This weekend, or at least tonight, I could get myself a little adventure via Richard’s dollar. Never mind the reason I was going was ridiculous, but hey, it was a ticket to escape Orlando for a minute. A chance to forget about how depressingly single I really was without my mini-me at home to remind me I wasn’t truly solo.

  It was an opportunity to get out of the office, out of my apartment. Both places where I could and inevitably would have to see Mav. I winced and crossed my arms. An unfamiliar heat started on my neck and I laid my hand over my collar.

  Yea
h. Getting some space from that infuriating, taunting, sexy jerk of a man sounded perfect. Hours had passed, yet I could acutely relive that damningly thrilling tingle of awareness he’d spiked in me. That dormant excitement flaring to life when he’d told me to spread my legs—

  I couldn’t help but cross my legs and squeeze my knees together. “For the love of God…”

  Fine. I was most excited to get away from him. I’d need a good few months or so to tame this newly sparked reaction to him. There was no way I was going to be a zombie and mindlessly join the ranks of women who sighed after him. For starters, this innocent-like bullshit of blushing? Don’t call me an old wench, but I wasn’t some naïve young thing anymore. I twisted my lips and growled. Was there a way to shut it off? Maybe down a few menopausal anti-flashback pills? Drown in a shot or four of tequila?

  He’d caught me off guard, all right. The last time a man had been between my legs was eons ago when I’d unwisely been married. I still cringed at the sour aftertaste my marriage elicited, and it was going to be eons longer until I’d want a man under me in any way—trapped in sinks or otherwise. Whoever could be sexy and smart enough to con me into trusting humans with dicks again…well, that individual sure as hell wasn’t going to be Mav.

  “I’m hun-ga-ry…”

  I raised my brows at the little boy dragging his dad’s arm down, bemoaning some form of apparent starvation as the young family slowly walked by.

  The dad sucked in a deep breath the way all parents did to either shore up the lung capacity to scream or to count down to a fake calm. They were in public, after all. I bet on the bottled-up meltdown. He worked his lips, like his yell wanted to rip free, and he hoisted the stuffed Simba toy higher in one hand and adjusted his grip on the handle to a mattress-sized plastic tote from Disney World.

  “I’m hun-gaaaa-rieeeeee…”

  The mother stoically stared ahead like a soldier, a passed-out toddler hanging in her arms like a fallen comrade. Glistening purple coated a clown’s smile around the kid’s mouth, some of the goo onto her cheeks and the mother’s shirt as well.

  “I’m hun-ga—”