Blank Space (Dirty South Book 1)

by Alla Kar

  I narrowed my eyes. “So, you’re tellin’ me that his business proposal has nothing to do with you asking me to work for you? Did he ask you to do this? Did he ask you to offer me a job?”

  Cash abruptly stood up and braced his palms against his desk. “No, this job offer has nothing to do with your family. It has everything to do with you. I want you to paint for me. You can go to Friday night dinner, but you need to return immediately after. I’ll have my driver drop and pick you up. End of discussion.”

  I searched his face, his eyes, for any sense of him lying to me, but I couldn’t tell. I couldn’t look at him for more than a few seconds before dropping my gaze. “Okay, so what about the other issue?”

  Cash’s shoulders relaxed as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “What other issue would that be?”

  He wanted me to say it. Rolling my eyes, I squirmed in my chair. “You know what issue I’m talking about. Don’t be an ass.”

  Cash lifted a brow. “Actually, I don’t.” He reached forward and skimmed to the last page. “Ah, this one,” he thumped the page. “The no kissing you problem.” He stroked his chin and tossed the contract back down. “No deal.”

  The air in the room disappeared. He planned to kiss me. And by the smug look on his face, I figured he planned much more. I hated that my body warmed at the thought. I didn’t want to want him. “You’re right,” I whispered. “No deal. It was a nice offer, Mr. Jenkins, but I can’t come live in your home without your promise to keep your hands to yourself.”

  Cash didn’t look worried, and it drove me insane. Slowly, he walked around his desk, stopping in front of me, only to lean backward. “I’m a very secretive person, Ms. Henry. Whatever happens in my home is never discussed, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I’m not,” I said. “I just received a call from my mother saying we’re in the paper this morning.”

  Cash’s mouth thinned. “The Sharpe boy told, didn’t he?”

  I shrugged. “If I were to guess, yes. So my parents already think the worse of me, and you shouldn’t associate yourself with it.”

  Cash crossed his ankles, but something softened on his face. “I’m not worried about what people think about me, Ms. Henry. I’m a grown man, and I keep my business to myself. I don’t answer to anyone other than God.”

  I shifted in my seat. “I can’t work for you knowing anything could happen. I’ve already told you that I’m attracted to you. It’s a death wish. So take it or leave it.”

  I felt proud of myself for standing up to him. When he dropped his arms and braced each hand on each side of my seat, my sense of pride turned to nerves. The smell of him made my mouth water. “I told you Friday night that I would take what I wanted. Nothing has changed since then. I’m giving you the privacy, unlimited supply of paint and the Friday night dinners that you asked for, but I will not promise something that I know I can’t keep. And I know I can’t promise you that I won’t kiss you or get close to you. What I can promise is that no matter the circumstances, or what happens, you’ll still have your job, and you’ll get paid. So, do we have ourselves a deal or not?”

  His breath hit my face, and my fingers tightened. I had no idea what I would say. My brain fought between the words ‘hell yes’ and ‘hell no.’

  I knew I shouldn’t do it; I shouldn’t sign my sanity away. I shouldn’t give into the temptation of working for him, or the money I’d make. But I wanted to.

  But I couldn’t sleep with him. I wouldn’t. Nothing more would happen than what already had. An almost kiss and a flirtation beyond anything I’d ever experienced. No matter how tempting his lips were, I wouldn’t kiss him. I decided not to mention it to him, and whispered, “Yes.”

  He nodded, his eyes on my mouth. Just when I thought he might dip his head lower, he stood and offered me the contract. I signed the line at the bottom of the fourth page.

  A satisfied grin stretched across his face. “Well, it looks like I have a new employee. I’ll send my driver to pick up you and your things tonight. Can you be ready?”

  My white button-down suddenly seemed like a wool coat in Savannah’s summer. Tonight? That was awfully quick. “Um—yea, I mean that’s quick, don’t cha think?”

  He shrugged. “I’d like to get started right away, Ms. Henry.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Sure. What time?”

  Cash looked down at his watch. “Seven. Don’t eat; I’ll have a meal prepared for us. We can go over everything tonight over dinner and then I’ll let you get settled into your new place.”

  I nodded. Cash stood and offered me his hand. I took it hesitantly; his callouses sparked an interest. Business men didn’t have callouses. Why did he? He must use his hands a lot. To do many things.

  I mentally kicked myself. “I have a cat.”

  Cash stopped and looked down at me. A Cheshire smile crawled up his jaw. “Oh really? When may I see this cat?”

  I flushed and furrowed my brow. “I need to bring her with me. Can I? Are you allergic or anything?”

  Cash’s grin widened. “Definitely not allergic. I love cats.”

  The sexual innuendo rolled so nicely off of his tongue. “So, I can bring Nyla along?”

  He searched my face. “Yes, you may.”

  I went to grab the door handle, but he stopped me with his palm on my waist. He bent down—once again—and brushed his lips against my cheek, the corner of his lips brushed my own. “I look forward to seeing Nyla and yourself tonight, Ms. Henry. Don’t forget your tooth brush.”

  I gave him a small smile and hurried out of his office. I felt his eyes on me the entire length of the hallway that led me away from him. If I’d only not walked into his office and took my ass back home.

  Then maybe I wouldn’t have sold my soul to the devil.

  Chapter Seven

  Cash

  As soon as my office door shut my cellphone rang. I knew who it was before I even got to my desk to pick it up. When Sydney told me her mother had called her, I knew it was only moments before she’d call me.

  “Yes, Mrs. Henry?”

  “I thought you were the better brother to ask, Mr. Jenkins. But getting into a fight over my daughter isn’t what I had in mind when I said good publicity.”

  I tightened my fingers into a fist around my phone. “It was a mistake, Ms. Henry. I stopped your daughter from going home with the Sharpe kid.”

  “By taking her home with you? What a gentleman,” she said.

  Ash entered the room, and I gestured for him to sit down. “No, I didn’t bring her with me, I took her home. And offered her a job.”

  Silence deafened the phone. “You what?” she finally asked. “So you’re gonna hire her and then date her? Why? That’ll look worse. She’ll be dating her boss. Did your mother drop you on the head when you were an infant?”

  Being called stupid didn’t settle well with me. And talking about my dead mother made me want to throw the phone. “It’ll be easier to keep her out of the news if I know where she is at all times. Your daughter is a complex character, Ms. Henry. I need time to get to know her, to know how to handle her. You’d know that if you knew anything about your daughter.”

  She scoffed. “Don’t judge my parenting. You have no children, so you have no idea.”

  I gathered my wallet and keys. “This is just how it’ll be, Ms. Henry. You want me to date your daughter and give her a relationship; I need time. You can take it or leave it.”

  “This is your strike one, Mr. Jenkins. If you don’t get my daughter Savannah’s approval soon, the deal will be off.”

  “I can do that. I’ll see to it that it happens.”

  I hung up before she could say a word. Asher grinned at me over his coffee cup. “What happened in here? She was red when she walked out.”

  I walked toward the door. “She accepted my offer. Now I need to go get things ready for her. Can you manage here?”

  Asher gestured me off. “I’ve got it. You go get us
a sponsorship.”

  After our meeting, I knew I’d get much more than a sponsorship out of this. I could already taste it.

  She was late.

  It hadn’t bothered me when the hand of my grandfather clock turned seven-fifteen, but when it turned seven-thirty, I was pissed. My fingers twisted the napkin in front of me. I wanted to strangle the life out of her. Thirty minutes late?

  Joey’s text said they were on their way, so when the door opened, I was prepared. Joey gave me a look that I could only take for annoyance and lugged three suitcases inside.

  “You’d think she’s moving away to college,” he mumbled.

  Sydney walked in afterward, a little red sundress hugged her. It almost made me forget that she was so late. Then I noticed the large grey cat nestled in her arm. “I’m gonna take this over to her room. You want me to take Nelly?”

  Sydney gave him a long sideways glance. “Her name is Nyla. And yes, thank you.”

  He grabbed the cat and flinched when she hissed at him. “Is it okay if I leave afterward? I’ve got plans, boss.”

  I nodded. “Thanks, Joey. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He gave me a good luck face and carried her things out toward the guest house. She eyed the dining room, her hands interlaced in front of her, her red lips parted in awe. “Your house is very modern. My parents come from old money. It’s more antique.”

  No I’m sorry for being late? I ground my teeth and stood with the help of the table. “You’re late.”

  Her green eyes skated toward mine, and the tip of her wedged heel turned inward. The innocent look on her face made something inside of me go wild. We both knew good and damn well that she wasn’t innocent.

  “You did kind of spring this on me. It was just thirty minutes.”

  I bit my bottom lip and gestured for her to have a seat. “An apology would be nice.”

  Her fist tightened at her sides. “It was an accident. Are you always going to be like this? Because I will leave right now.”

  She was a liar. But I’d be a liar too if I told her that I wanted her to leave. “You know where the door is.”

  The stubborn look in her eye made me angry, but in a way that made me want her so much more. I wanted to make her do what I said. It seemed terribly tempting. “Sit down, Sydney.”

  No movement. On the first night, really? Clearing my throat, I shoved my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching toward her. I wasn’t sure if it was to strangle her from frustration or just to feel her skin. She’d had to be the most gorgeous thing I’d seen.

  She huffed. “I’m sorry. Is that better?”

  I gave her a one shoulder shrug and asked her to sit.

  She twisted the side of her dress before taking a seat. I watched as she stared at her plate like it may bite. I tightened my fists on my lap. “Do you not like chicken?”

  A laugh slipped from her throat. It settled nicely over me. I’d never heard her laugh before. “What’s so funny?”

  She twirled her blonde braid around her finger and wiped away a tear. “I just didn’t expect you to eat like—this?” She gestured in front of her.

  “Like what?” I asked, leaning backward. She shifted, and I noticed the cutout in the front of her sundress dipped low in between her breasts. Holy …

  “I just thought you’d eat more like my parents. Ya know, escargot or something?”

  Sitting forward, I glanced at her face. “I can have that fixed for you if you’d like.”

  She squinted her gaze. “No, I love this, it just surprised me.”

  Good, because I hated eating like her parents. But I wouldn’t tell her yet. The cat and mouse game had me on edge. “Then help yourself.”

  We ate in silence. I watched her as she ate. The way she twirled her fork around once it was in her mouth turned something on inside of me. Every time her eyes cast up to meet mine, she’d glance back down as if she hadn’t noticed my staring. But I knew better. Her body language showed me. Those pretty slender shoulders were tensed, and her chest rose and fell faster than before.

  I’d been finished for a short period of time when she pushed her plate away from her. “That was so good.”

  I nodded. “You can tell Gloria. She’s the boss around here. You’ll meet her in the morning.”

  The corner of Sydney’s lip tilted upward into a smile. She took a slow sip of wine, and I watched as she licked the wine droplet from her lower lip. I thought licking it for her was too forward, so I licked my own, watching as she eyed me over her drink.

  She turned her gaze toward a huge painting behind me. “Who painted that?”

  “My mother.”

  She looked at me for a hard moment. “Your Mom paints?”

  I braced my elbows on the table, giving myself an excuse to get a better look at her. “She did paint. She died several years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  I took another drink of my wine. “I’m taking your mother doesn’t paint, right?”

  She snorted. “Right. It’s one of the Ten Commandments, ya know. Thou shall not paint. Or at least that’s what it seems like to her.”

  “I can tell.”

  She sipped her wine, and I watched the way she swallowed. I tried not to image shoving myself into that pretty mouth. “Are you ready to go to your room?” I stood. “I’ll show you the way.”

  She stood, and I took the moment to really look at her. The golden blond braid hung loosely down her shoulder, and I pictured undoing it and twining my fingers into her hair. She followed beside me, the soft click of high heels was something rarely heard on my floor.

  I hadn’t had time to bring a woman to my home in months.

  I opened the bay doors and led her across the patio, and passed the pool. She stopped cold when the guest house came into view. “Wow,” she whispered. Her expression went from shocked to unsure. “This is a guest house? Are you going to take me behind it to a little shack?”

  I turned back to look at her. “No, but that’s a good idea. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The side of her lip curled upward. “But yes, and it’s your house for now. It has everything you’ll need. I’d like you to have meals with me, but you have your own kitchen. There is food. You can give Gloria a list of things you like to eat, and she’ll get it for you.”

  She tapped the tip of her finger against her elbow. “Thank you.”

  I nodded and opened the front door. I’d had someone feminize it a bit. Okay, a lot. I’d used this house for friends when they’d come to stay during hunting season. Most of the decor had been camo, but it had been taken down in my attempt to fix it for her. Despite the fact I wore suits every day to work didn’t mean I wasn’t a typical southern man who loved to hunt.

  The open floor plan was all hardwood. Light beige and whites replaced the dark leather furniture. Soft throw pillows lined the couch, and a matching rug took up most of the living room floor. Glass windows lined the right wall that overlooked my pool. “This is beautiful,” she whispered. She turned slowly, glancing up at the skylight above the hallway. “I’ll never leave this spot.”

  She smiled upward, and the sight of it felt like someone squeezing my chest. I felt out of breath. “Wait until you see the bedroom.”

  Her head and eyes dropped to me. “In my bedroom? Oh, God. Where is it?”

  I tilted my head to the side to examine her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her body swayed. She was tipsy. If any guy tells you that a beautiful tipsy woman is not sexy, they’re a damn liar.

  Stepping forward, I placed my hand against the small of her back. The way she tightened her body meant she was nervous, and I loved it. I loved that her body reacted to such a small touch. The master bedroom was large. I was sure she’d had a similar room when she lived at home. She darted straight toward the bed, fell backward and stared up at the sky. The skylight above her bed was much bigger than the hallway.

  She continued to stare upward, her body relaxed and still against the b
ed. Her fascination was written all over her face. “I’ll never run out of things to paint now.”

  “Do you ever?”

  She went quiet and sat up. I could tell by her posture that she’d notice herself slipping. Even now. Even tipsy. What was she hiding? “What time do we start tomorrow?”

  I gestured toward her bed. “Do you mind?”

  She shrugged, though I saw her bite the corner of her lip. A nervous habit. “Sure.”

  I took a seat an appropriate distance away from her—maybe teetering on the line between inappropriate and appropriate. Her perfume swarmed me, the soft smell of the wine on her breath went straight to my cock. “I have everything you’ll need in your paint room. It’s the third down on the left. If you need anything else, please tell me. I’ll get it for you right away.”

  She nodded, her eyes cast down. “What will I do first?”

  I had plenty of things she could do first. Starting with untying her sundress. I just needed a little taste. I cleared my throat. “I think we’ll start at home first. I need my front entrance painted.”

  Sydney nodded. “Sure, what did you have in mind? Do you have a picture?”

  I didn’t. I hadn’t thought past getting her in my home. “How about however you’re feeling in the morning?”

  Her eyes widened. “What if I feel like shit?”

  I cocked a brow. “I’ll make sure you don’t feel like shit in the morning, Peach. I can promise you that.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Are you tryin’ to say that you’ll be with me in the morning?”

  I shook my head, reaching forward to rub the corner of her mouth. “No, that doesn’t come yet. That comes later. I’ll have the best breakfast fixed for you in the morning.”

  The moon formed a glow over her face, the pink stains on her cheeks made my fingers itch. “That can’t happen, Cash. You know that.”

  I didn’t know that. Running my hand against her cheek, I palmed the base of her slender neck. Those bright red lips parted, I wanted to taste her so badly. But she was tipsy. All those feelings she hid were only there because she’d been drinking and her wall was slowly drifting down.