by Tasha Black
“And it’s good to have your friend around” Cordelia added.
West turned back to her.
“That’s the thing. He’s not the same Dalton I knew. He came back…different somehow. Hell, he doesn’t even have the same color eyes as he did back then.”
Cordelia thought of Dalton’s icy blue eyes. What kind of medical experiment could do something like that?
“He’s been totally closed off with me,” West said. “Our relationship is strictly professional. I know he’s loyal and he knows I’ve got his back. But we’re not exactly friends anymore. I don’t know if he’s just afraid, or embarrassed, or if the experiments actually changed him or what.
At any rate, our meeting today convinced me not to do business with Alpha Division. And after what Dalton just told us, there is no way in hell they will ever get near my technology. I’ve seen what happens to their so-called volunteer subjects.”
Cordelia nodded. West was deepening before her eyes - becoming less a caricature of a playboy and more of a man.
The memory of his warm embrace struck her suddenly. She tried to push it away. Now was not the time.
But West had seen it. His eyes flashed, and one corner of his mouth curled up.
The air between them seemed to crackle.
20
Fuck. He liked her.
The world was going crazy around them, and he liked her a lot.
She was frozen in his gaze, like a mouse before a python. Her blue eyes were wide. Oh, the things he could do to her.
He managed to rip his eyes from hers and returned them to the skyline out the window. He just needed a minute.
What was the matter with him?
It must be that she was a good assistant and turning out to be really bright. He was having fun developing her. If he fucked her and dropped her he would have to give up his new plaything.
But that wasn’t it. Not really.
Because West Worthington could just pay her enough to keep working even after he fucked her, if he wanted. He had enough money to make anyone do anything.
The thing of it was, he didn’t want to make her do anything. And she didn’t seem to be the kind of person who would respect him or herself if he did.
So he was stuck.
He could burn with lust over the taste she had given him, but never bring it up again. If he didn’t say anything about it, neither would she. The world was full of girls ready to scratch his itch.
The thing was, he wasn’t sure that was true anymore. He wasn’t sure that anyone could fill this sudden void, anyone but Cordelia.
He turned back to her.
While he had looked out the window, she had gathered herself. She wore a look that told him he’d been right. If he ignored what had just happened so would she.
The hunger was hidden from her face and she wore a practiced expression of professional alertness, like at any moment he might ask her to take notes or run an errand, and she wanted him to know she was ready.
And that was good. Literally the worst thing he could do right now would be to unbalance things. He should march out of the room and she would follow him, and by the time they got to Med Pros, it would be like he’d never kissed her.
“We’re going to dinner,” he heard himself say instead.
He was so surprised at himself that he almost missed her reaction. And that would have been a shame.
Cordelia’s eyebrows lifted, and for a moment he saw her true self. Her eyes filled with happy wonder. She liked him. God only knew why, she seemed like a nice girl. But she did.
Then the mask came down again.
“Of course,” she said crisply. “Do you want me to make you a reservation?”
“Cordelia,” he said gently. “I’m asking you. Will you go to dinner with me?”
Her eyes met his.
It was like the floor dropped out from under him.
No, no, no. No more doe eyes, no more kissing in the conference room. Suddenly the most important thing in West’s world was to do the right thing with this woman.
“Cordelia Cross, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner?” he pleaded. “Please?”
She cocked her head and observed him curiously for a moment. She must have liked what she saw, because she smiled at him sunnily.
“Yes, okay!” she agreed.
“Okay,” he echoed. “Good, good. Do you like Les Cadeaux?”
“Um, yes,” she said, looking a little nervous.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She looked down at her outfit. She looked great, soft sweater, skirt. She looked just like herself.
“I’d like to get changed first,” she explained.
West supposed Les Cadeaux was a little fancy. Not that they would dare turn him away, no matter how he and his guest were dressed.
“Okay, take the car home,” he told her. “I’ll come for you at eight.”
“No, no, I’ll meet you there,” she insisted.
“Okay,” he agreed. He didn’t remember dating being this awkward.
“Okay,” she said.
“I’ll make the reservation,” he said.
“Are you sure you know how?” she teased.
“I’ll manage.”
Her real smile was so beautiful. Before he could kiss it, or try to catch it like a firefly in a jar, she brushed past him and he was left with nothing but the view of her round ass making gorgeous figure eights down the corridor. Her light step told him she was happy.
West was a little afraid of what he might be willing to do to keep her that way.
21
Cordelia wistfully studied the last sip of ice water in her glass.
She’d made a deal with herself about that glass of water. If she took the last sip then it was official. West was not coming.
Around her, the magical setting of Les Cadeaux whirred like the inside of a music box. Gorgeously dressed men and women dined and laughed. Handsome waiters were so graceful they practically danced between the tables. Fairy lights twinkled above, illuminating a vaulted ceiling that was painted to look like the night sky.
Cordelia tried to sigh, which wasn’t easy in her outfit. It was a particularly nice bridesmaid dress from one of her college friends’ weddings. Cinderella blue lace with a boned interior that pulled in her curves tightly to simulate a waist Cordelia could not have laid claim to otherwise. She tried not to think about how ironic it was that she was being stood up in a bridesmaid dress. Always the bridesmaid…
Maybe West was just caught up in work. He was the kind of man who threw himself into things without looking back.
Cordelia had sort of hoped he was planning to throw himself into her that way. West wasn’t exactly the type of guy who took a girl to dinner, and the way he’d looked at her today, with such desire and determination…
A chunk of ice in her glass cracked and the level of the water settled lower.
That seemed about right. Even the water in the glass was trying to tell her, You’re a fat girl, with no life and no plans. You don’t get the guy. And you never will.
Cordelia grabbed the glass and downed it. Feeling sorry for herself was not on her agenda. She preferred to go home and get angry.
She fished a ten out of her wallet and slapped the empty glass on top of it. No reason the waiter shouldn’t get tipped, although she suspected ten dollars couldn’t cover the cost of a martini olive in a place like this.
In spite of her bravado, the sparkling lights and colorful dresses began to blur before her brimming eyes as she hastened to the exit.
Though Cordelia knew she was the least interesting person in the place, she felt like her body was taking up so much space that she must stand out like an angry troll in a room full of fairies. For all her hopes, she was just a big, fat, crying girl in a lacy dress, running away.
22
West Worthington’s heart raced.
His whole world was changing today, he could practically hear the gears shif
ting.
Cordelia would be getting into the car now, heading back into the shining lights of Glacier City to meet him. He tried to imagine what she might be wearing if it wasn’t a soft clingy sweater and a tweed skirt. But he couldn’t.
Cordelia was herself, all the time - an unimaginably brave act in a world of things that weren’t what they seemed.
He wondered what it would be like to eat dinner with a woman who wasn’t trying to get her hands on his money, or his body. Most of the women he’d taken out were unsubtly trying to show what good wives they would be. Or they were just trying to get in a quick hand job under the table cloth.
Suddenly, his blood boiled with lust as he imagined sweet Cordelia Cross rubbing her hand across his lap. That would never happen in a restaurant, he was very sure.
He straightened his tie one last time. The man staring back at him in the mirror had the same sharp jaw and dark eyes as the one he’d seen this morning. Could he have changed so much in one day?
Did Cordelia really see something in him that wasn’t cruel and self-indulgent? Was it possible that something good and true could exist inside him?
He leaned into the mirror, searching his own eyes for clues.
The buzz of his cell phone interrupted his ridiculous reverie.
Level One Security Breach - Worthington Applied Sciences
12th floor - Medical Prosthetics
Police, Ambulance, Fire, Private Security Alerted
For a moment Dalton’s warning sounded in his head. Could this be Alpha Division? Were they taking what he wouldn’t sell?
No, that would be too quick. They would expect they had more cards to play. They had no way to know that West was determined not to budge.
It was probably just a door left open. Or an intern trying to steal supplies.
Still, he had a funny feeling.
He would stop by and check to be sure everything was okay. Now that the Med Pros work was important, he didn’t want to take any chances. Besides, it was on his way to Les Cadeaux.
23
Worthington Enterprises was silent.
West liked the building that way, it reminded him of a sleeping jaguar. The cool marble floors rang under his steps.
The corridor leading to Med Pros was dark, but there was soft blue light coming from under the door. Someone was working late. Likely because West had come in and given a fucking motivational speech to them this afternoon.
He’d told them that he was committed to getting the tech up and running. He’d even sent a car to bring in that kid, Sean, and his mom, so that he could be fitted for his new prosthetic on the spot. He would be the first recipient, as soon as the approval went through. West had even hung the picture Sean had made him, the one with them as a pair of superheroes, on the wall of the lab.
Maybe someone was in there having a break-through right now.
But he approached quietly anyway, remembering what Dalton had said. A strange chemical scent filtered out to him, like someone inside was stripping paint. But he knew there was no work like that scheduled.
The door was slightly ajar, so he didn’t even have to slide his key card. What idiot would leave the door open? No wonder the alarms were going off. It definitely wasn’t military.
West entered to find a figure bent over one of the computers, hard at work. Even in the dim light, West couldn’t mistake the the middle-aged man with the bad combover.
“Vince Palma,” West said. His voice echoed off the walls of the enormous lab.
The figure startled. Then turned to West.
“I thought I fired you,” West said as he strode over to the other man. “So what are you doing here?”
Now that he was inside the lab, the chemical odor seemed much stronger. That couldn’t be normal. West scanned the room and saw several overturned plastic drums marked toluene on a nearby lab table. The liquid inside had covered the table top and pooled on the floor.
What the hell was Palma up to?
“Your father would be ashamed of you,” Vince spat. “I’ve worked my ass off for this company for years.”
West’s image in the eyes of his father was so unimportant to him, he almost laughed.
“Are you kidding me?” West asked calmly. “You don’t even know how to shut the fucking doors, Vince. You come in late and you leave early and you don’t know what you’re doing. My father is in jail. You don’t work for him. But, stupidly, I did pay you to work for me. Instead, you did nothing. And now you’re trying to sabotage my research.”
Vince slipped something into his pants pocket, and began to back away from West.
West was now close enough that he could see sequences flying across the screen of the computer. The files were all being erased.
“What the hell is this?” West tapped at the keyboard, but it was unresponsive. Whatever Palma had set in motion didn’t look like it was going to stop.
Vince took advantage of his distraction to back closer to the door.
It didn’t matter. West was stronger and faster. The guy wasn’t going anywhere.
West spun from the screen and vaulted over one of the soapstone lab tables. He landed in front of Vince, almost losing his footing in a puddle of the harsh-smelling liquid. The stuff had been splashed everywhere.
“Fine,” said the older man, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender. “You’ve got me.”
“Why don’t you give me whatever it was you just slipped into your pocket?” West returned.
Vince sighed, and then suddenly lashed out with a swift kick that found West’s kneecap.
West stumbled in pain as Vince launched a desperate haymaker. He was sneaky, but he wasn’t much of a fighter.
West rolled with the blow and fired off a punch of his own, a solid hook to the older man’s solar plexus. Vince dropped like a bag of rocks and curled on the floor, wheezing for breath.
West reached down and fished the object from Palma’s pants pocket.
A flash drive.
Thieving bastard.
And a lighter.
Thieving, arsonous bastard.
West backed away from the older man’s prone body, and grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket. Dalton would be almost here by now and he’d probably be scared out of his mind that he was going to be facing the military contractors.
True to form, Dalton picked up on the first ring.
“Dalton,” his familiar deep voice panted.
“Hey man, don’t sweat it,” West told him. “It was Palma.”
“Vince Palma? But why?”
“He was trying to sabotage us. I got him before he could do any real damage.” West assured him.
“Are you sure this isn’t connected to Andrews?” Dalton asked.
West examined the flash drive. No identifying markings.
“It would be unlikely, wouldn’t it?” West asked, the tiny flashing lights of a distant police car catching his eye. “What connection would Palma have to the Alpha Division?”
A completely unexpected shape appeared just outside the window.
It looked like an astronaut.
But it wasn’t out the window. It was a reflection.
Palma.
He must have taken advantage of West’s momentary distraction to slip into one of the lab’s exo-suits.
West ducked, in time to avoid a metal lab stool sailing over his head. It connected with the glass, shattering it. West knew the glass was heavy-duty. It must have been a hell of a throw.
Heavy footsteps closed the distance between them.
West spun around to see Vince rushing toward him. He thought about bolting around the other side of the desk, but Palma surprised him by overturning the whole thing, instead of sidestepping it.
Computer monitor crashed to the floor, shattering, and the small desk lamp followed, its bulb popping. The spark was enough to light the puddle of flammable liquid spread out on the floor.
The flames raced like a living creature, fast and hungry.
/> West tore his gaze away just as Palma jabbed.
The strong, carbon fiber skeleton of the suit connected with his eye and his vision went red and blurry.
West could hear Dalton screaming his name from the phone as it fell from his grip and tumbled across the floor.
Palma grabbed the flash drive out of his hand, and then hit him again, this time in the ribs. He felt a few of them crack.
Shit.
Vince slipped the flash drive into his shirt pocket as West clutched his side in pain.
He tried to push past Vince, but the man kicked out at his knee again. This time the bones in his lower leg snapped, sending him to the floor in agony.
Vince stood over him.
“You’re a piece of shit, Worthington, just like your old man!” Palma screamed in a grating, high-pitched voice.
West closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the flash drive. If he could only get the flash drive back. The police would be here soon.
“I lost every golf game I ever played him, West,” Palma continued. “And I’m a good golfer, better than he is. You think you know how the world works. You don’t know at all. I let the guy sleep with my fucking wife and I pretended I didn’t know. I paid the price for what I had, and you took it!”
He leaned over West and grabbed him by the lapels, pulling him back up to his feet.
“And even now, you think someone’s coming to save you, don’t you? Well, I’m not giving them that chance!” Palma screamed.
West felt himself being lifted off the ground.
Cold air rushed through the window, buffeting them both and blowing West’s hair against the caked-on blood around his eye.
Palma moved forward until he was dangling West over the 12 story drop to the street below.
West knew where this was headed. He heard sirens, still too far off to be any use. Dalton wasn’t going to make it in time either.
