Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love)

by Liza O'Connor

  Suddenly hands reached around her and captured the wild dryer. She looked up at Trent. “It won’t stop roaring.”

  He chuckled, placed it in its holster and it shut up.

  “Can I get on the counter so I can see how it turns itself off?”

  He tugged at her robe. “Not with this thing on. You’ll more than likely trip.” He pulled his robe off her and replaced it on its hook, leaving her feeling rather naked in his t-shirt.

  Without any warning, he gripped her waist and lifted her onto the counter.

  She nervously tugged at the t-shirt. Having no desire to wear dirty underwear after her shower, she wore nothing beneath it.

  “Well?” he challenged.

  Focusing on the issue at hand, she removed the dryer and ignored its roars while she peered inside. When she pressed a lever at the bottom, the roaring stopped. “The weight of the dryer presses a lever and cuts the circuit. Clever.” She placed the dryer back in its holster.

  Trent lifted her off the countertop and set her down. “Not half as much as you. Thank you for realizing I needed food. I thought I might have a traumatized brain.”

  She peered up at him and grimaced. “I probably wouldn’t have figured it out if not for the giant mirror and the excessive lighting in here.”

  He tilted his head, letting her know she had yet to make sense.

  “When I undressed to take my shower, I could see my ribs, which made me think about the last time I ate.”

  He ran his fingers across her ribs setting her body on fire. “Okay, we’re going on a food binge. Three meals a day, no exceptions. And I’m having Mars bring you more soup.”

  “I just ate a full meal,” she said as she stepped away from his tantalizing fingers.

  “The hell you did.” And now he was yelling at her again! Had she inadvertently hurt his feelings when she moved away? In an effort to take it back, she shuffled forward.

  “Did too! I only weigh eighty pounds. I don’t eat half what you do.”

  “Yes, but you still have to eat! You’re skin and bones.”

  “I realize that. I’ll admit I skipped too many meals when in Taiwan.”

  He ran his hands through her freshly dried hair. “In the future, I’m going with you. That way we can take care of each other.”

  She smiled at his grumpy declaration. God, she really, really liked him. If only he wasn’t her boss…and a rich socialite. The former they might manage to work around but the latter seemed an impenetrable barrier.

  With a heavy sigh, she met his intense gaze. “Well, right now, we both need sleep, so let’s put each other to bed.”

  * * * *

  Feeling Carrie’s ribs greatly upset Trent. He would call Lenard in the morning and have her examined. If she turned out to be an anorexic, he’d help her recover. Hopefully, Lenard would know how much food a woman her height should consume.

  He shuffled to the center of the bed and pulled her against his chest.

  “Trent…”

  “Just spooning. Friends can spoon. It’s soothing.”

  She made no further protest or attempt to move away from him, which meant she’d conceded.

  Before Carrie came into his life, sleep mostly eluded him as he worried about one thing or another. Then she arrived and started making action plans for all his problems. Soon major problems became smaller and doable tasks.

  He ran his hand over her hip. Definitely naked beneath his t-shirt. God, he couldn’t wait until he got his new improved staff on board.

  Chapter 13

  Sam returned late that night and nodded to Mars, diligently standing guard until the last soldier came off duty.

  “I’ve soup and bread in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

  Sam’s stomach growled with excitement. “Starved. I don’t think I’ve eaten since this morning.”

  “Do I need to follow you people around all day to ensure you eat?”

  “You people?”

  “Neither Miss Carrie nor Master Trent appear to have eaten either.”

  “Well, Miss Carrie did eat early this morning. But that very well could have been her last meal and since she only eats about five bites of food at a sitting, maybe you should follow her about.”

  “She ate an entire bowl of soup tonight.”

  More likely, she gave it to Master Trent. However, he wasn’t going to argue with a friend who’d stayed up waiting for his return. “Go on to bed now. I promise to put my dishes in the dishwasher without supervision.

  A slight grin crossed Mars’ face.

  He nodded at the three suitcases. “Shall I carry those to Master Trent’s room?”

  “I’ll do it.” Sam grabbed the bags and headed to the master suite. Upon opening the door, a heavy lump of lead formed in his stomach. Carrie’s head rested on Trent’s bare chest. Both had that peaceful, after-good-sex vibe.

  He breathed in deep to verify his conclusion but could only smell Trent’s stupid cologne. No musky sex odor. Maybe they hadn’t had sex, but how Trent could avoid the temptation when she lay on his bare chest, he had no idea.

  Without a question, I would’ve jumped her bones.

  He returned to the kitchen and threw out his soup, having lost his appetite. Instead, he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer.

  “You okay?” Mars asked from the door.

  “Great,” he said and took a deep swig of his beer.

  Mars continued to study him. Finally, he spoke. “It won’t last. She’s not of his world.”

  “I know. I’m just tired of leftovers.”

  His right eyebrow arched. “At our age, every woman we meet is somebody’s leftover.”

  “I don’t expect my women to be virgins. I just don’t want his leftovers.”

  “Then why did you fall for her, when anyone could see where those two were headed?”

  He shook his head. “You hang around her for a day and see if you can guard your heart. I understand why Trent wants to buck society and go after her. I just wish for once he’d stop and think about someone other than himself. He’ll not just break her heart; he’ll break her spirit. Then the woman I want won’t even exist anymore.”

  Mars sat across from him at the table and met his gaze. “When did you promote Carrie to the woman of your dreams?”

  Mars always could nail something with a single blow. “Yesterday,” he muttered.

  “And how long have you been driving Miss Carrie about?”

  “Two years.”

  “So what changed yesterday?”

  He shrugged. “I really don’t want to discuss this.”

  “No, the truth is uncomfortable, I’ll grant you that.”

  Sam slammed down his beer. “So you’re ‘all seeing.’ What’s the truth I’m dodging here?”

  Mars leaned forward, his hands cupped together, his eyes stern. “This last month when Miss Carrie went to Taiwan, Master Trent realized how much of his happiness depended upon her.”

  “So?” Sam didn’t like where this was going at all.

  Mars stared at him a long moment before replying. “So don’t you find your identical turn of affections a bit too coincidental?”

  “Are you saying I want Carrie only because Master Trent does?” Anger boiled within him.

  Never one to fear a battle, Mars calmly maintained eye contact, even as he replied with calmness. “That’s precisely what I’m saying.”

  Enough! Sam pushed himself up. “I’ll expect an apology when you fall in love with her too.”

  Mars stood. “If I fall in love with her, you will receive one. If I don’t, will you face the truth and leave the poor girl alone?”

  “Are you giving the same lecture to Master Trent?”

  Mars just glared at him.

  “No, I didn’t think so!” Master Trent got to do whatever he wanted, while the rest of the world danced about serving his every whim.

  “Sam…You really need to think about leaving this job. It’s not resolving your anger.”


  His hands shook with rage. “Fuck you! I’m sorry I ever told you the truth!” He stormed to the backdoor. “Tell Master Trent I returned to Long Island and he can take a taxi tomorrow.”

  “Sam, don’t drive out to Long Island. If you can’t stay here, then go to your parents.”

  “Parent,” he snapped.

  “The man is your father. He raised you and loves you.”

  Sam pressed his head against the door. Maybe he should quit this job. Mars had nailed the truth to the wall. He only wanted Carrie because ‘Master Trent’ did.

  “I’ll find someplace local,” he promised as he took in a deep breath.

  Mars squeezed his shoulder. “Call me when you settle. Else I’ll worry all night.”

  He nodded and left the penthouse.

  * * * *

  Sam couldn’t argue with Mars observations about Carrie. He needed to fixate on someone else, someone who had no connection to ‘Master Trent’ whatsoever.

  The bar lights went off as he pulled in the parking lot. Closing time. He’d help send the drunks home; that should help him release some of his pent up anger.

  After he’d bullied the last drunk out the door, he sat at the bar and watched Dawn clean.

  Her long blond hair, which normally rained down her tight knit top, resided in a ponytail. His loin stirred as she leaned far across the table, wiping it down. She had great legs. They went on forever before reaching the tight jogging shorts his barmaids wore as a uniform. They didn’t look like a uniform on her firm ass; they looked like they legitimately belonged. “You run marathons?”

  She moved to another table and stretched across it as well. “When I can afford to. I did the Boston two years ago.”

  “How much is the entry fee?”

  “A hundred and thirty dollars. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg. When you include meals and a place to stay, travel costs, you need about five thousand.”

  “If you want to go next year, we’ll do a fundraiser. These guys would love to do something nice for you.”

  She chuckled as she finished wiping down the last table and hurried behind the bar. “Would that be the guys you just manhandled out the bar?”

  He grimaced. He shouldn’t have taken his anger out on them. Other than not wanting to go home, he had great customers—didn’t give his barmaids more grief than they could handle, never skipped out without paying their tabs, and never broke much when they had a fight. “Hopefully, they’ll be too drunk to remember.”

  She poured the dregs in coffee machine into a cup and put it in front of him. “Hair of the dog. It’ll clear your head.”

  He took one sip and spat it out. “That’s the worst shit I’ve ever tasted.” He studied the faint smile on her face. “You mad at me over something?”

  She sighed and wiped the counter he’d just spewed with coffee dregs. “Disappointed.”

  He motioned with a rolling hand to move on with what looked to be a lecture. God, he really had to be a mess if the new barmaid felt compelled to straighten up his life.

  A heavy sigh told him he wouldn’t like whatever she planned to say. His responding scowl evidently changed her mind.

  She slapped her hand on the bar. “Not my business.” A turn towards the office warned him she intended to run. He snared her wrist before she’d taken a single step. “Say it anyway.”

  Her focus went to his hand gripping her wrist. “I need to call a taxi to pick me up then get this place closed down before they get here.”

  “I’ll take you home.”

  She laughed but he heard no humor in it, just a ‘God, I’ve been here before and it never goes well’ thought.

  Her blue eyes met his. “Not after I piss you off with my lecture, you won’t. I’ll be lucky to keep my job.”

  “Tell me.” He held firm to her wrist.

  She stared at him then sighed. “Sam, I really like my job here. I don’t want to screw this up.”

  “And how are you going to screw it up?”

  Her eyebrows rose as if she thought it a stupid question. “By talking when I should just keep my mouth closed.”

  She did have a pretty mouth. The plump bottom lip looked downright edible.

  Her slight tugging caused him to focus on the wrist he held.

  “If you fire me for my opinion, I’m going to really be angry with you,” she warned.

  “I will not fire you for any verbal castration you wield.”

  She leaned across the bar and stared straight into his eyes. “Sam, you’re a good looking man and charming as hell. You can have any woman you want. So why are you plying teenage girls with alcohol to get them into bed?”

  His eyes rounded in outrage as he jumped from the bar stool, knocking it over. “Whoever told you that is a damn liar! And I want his name right now.”

  Her outrage matched his. “Sam, I saw you with my own eyes! At your insistence, I brought the little girl a drink strong enough to bring down a full-grown man.” She shook her head. “Something I regret and will never do again.”

  His rage dissipated into laughter as he realized her mistake.

  “How can you laugh about this?” She hit him with her dirty towel with enough force that it hurt.

  He decided he’d better explain before she smacked him with a bottle.

  “Carrie's older than you.”

  “She told you that and you believed her?” Dawn rolled her eyes.

  “I know she graduated from college about two years ago and has been Master Trent’s right hand, left hand, and brain ever since. Without her, his business would’ve gone under. In fact, when she arrived I had no hope for the company.”

  Dawn frowned. “Are you certain she didn’t go to college as a child protégée?”

  “No, but I’m sure she went to Taiwan all by herself, and owns a house. I seriously doubt airlines and bankers would let a child do either.”

  She breathed in then smiled. “Thank you for setting me straight. It really upset me.”

  “Glad to unfreak you. For the record, Master Trent fired her today during one of his infamous tantrums. I thought a bit of alcohol would calm her down. I would’ve just ordered her a half shot, but I didn’t think she’d drink it. So I had you hundred-proof her coke, knowing she’d only take one swallow.”

  Dawn laughed and opened the register to count the money. “That had to be the most costly shot in the history of bar keeping.”

  “Yeah, and she didn’t even drink a half shot’s worth.” He rolled his eyes. “Good thing. Otherwise, I would’ve had to carry her to the car. Turned out she only ate five tiny bites of an egg today.”

  She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “So what’d you do with her when you left here?”

  He held up his hands in surrender, certain he was innocent of whatever she crime she had in her head. “I returned Master Trent’s toy to him. Without his right hand and brain, he somehow managed to run into a glass door and hurt his pretty face.”

  She stopped midway through the stack of bills and glared at him. “You’re making shit up just to screw my count.”

  He shook his head. “No, I swear! The idiot ran into a glass door and broke his nose.”

  Her eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline. “For real?”

  “Yes. Evidently, it didn’t open fast enough.”

  She burst into laughter, and Sam joined her. God, he hadn’t laughed in weeks and it felt good!

  He assisted her in the rest of her cleanup. Seemed wrong to watch her work.

  Once done, he led her to his car.

  She frowned at the limo. “This thing’s a freakin’ tank.”

  “Bullet proof, thank God. Master Trent insisted we cut through Harlem yesterday and some punk took a shot at the car.”

  “You know, when you said you drove a limo, I thought that had to be the dullest job in the world, but evidently not with Master Trent. What type of fool drives a limo through Harlem?”

  “Someone raised in a world where servants spends their
every waking moment making his life better.”

  Dawn climbed into the front seat without asking. Sam thought the better of her for that.

  He slipped into his seat and brought the engine to life.

  “Whoa! Is that a V8?”

  “V12. This baby can go two hundred miles an hour in less than sixty seconds.” He revved the engine again.

  She tilted her head and listened to its powerful rumble. “Shame you’ve no place to take her out for a spin.”

  “There’s a place in Vermont I can drive her full out. It’s where I learned defensive driving.”

  A soft snort burst from her chest. “You don’t seem like a person who would care in the least about defensive driving.”

  “The place trains drivers for the president and world leaders. It’s not about avoiding a fender bender, it’s about keeping your passengers alive when bombs blow up around you and angry mobs attack the car.”

  She reached over and patted his shoulder. “Now that sounds like something you’d enjoy.”

  “Yep. Master Trent pays for me to go up one weekend a month to practice, so all the money he paid won’t go to waste.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “No, he’s just making sure I’ll save his pampered ass when one of his employees tries to lob a bomb his way.”

  “If he’s so horrible why don’t you get another job? And why did Carrie get so upset over losing hers?”

  “Because I love to torture him, and she loves to be needed, and believe me, never has there been a needier man-child in the history of mankind.”

  He pulled up and parked in front of her rundown, poorly lit apartment complex. Man, this place looked ready-ordered for crime. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

  Dawn grimaced. “Thank you. Last night, some creep attacked my friend before she could enter the building.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Yeah, she kicked him in the balls and got inside before he recovered.”

  “She call the cops?”

  “No, she just packed up and left this morning. The guy probably just wanted to steal her purse, but with the serial rapist out there, she decided to move home to New Jersey.”

  “I got a friend on the force. They’re closing in on him. He’ll be caught soon.”