Sir's Redemption (Doms of Decadence Book 8)

by Laylah Roberts

  It was understandable she was short on patience with Gary-the-sleaze today. Still, it didn’t mean she could lose her temper with him.

  “No, it’s fucked.”

  “Gary!” Mike barked at him. “There’s a lady present.”

  “There is?” Gary gave her a wink. God, he thought he was being cute. How much could she be expected to put up with?

  “I towed it back here.”

  “Good.” Mike nodded. “Kinley, what do you want us to do? We can get it to a mechanic’s shop if you like?”

  And how would she pay the bill, even if it could be fixed? The ache in her stomach turned into a burn. She let out a shuddering breath. She knew she couldn’t. She was going to have to face the fact that until her debts were under control she’d be without a car.

  “Can I leave it here for a little bit? Gary doesn’t think it can be fixed, but I’m not quite ready to give up on it yet.”

  Mike patted her shoulder gently. He knew her finances were tight, which is why he had insisted Gary go check it for her when he’d heard about her troubles from last night. He was really good to her. Better than most bosses. Completely different from James.

  She pushed that thought from her head. Better not think of him right now. Thinking of James had brought her nothing but angst over the weekend. Even if she and Sloan were over, and considering he hadn’t contacted her, she was sure that was a given, she didn’t intend to get involved with anyone else. Let alone James March.

  First, he was her boss. Second, he had a different woman on his arm most weekends. Third, he was way out of her league.

  “Okay, Kinley. You keep it here as long as you need to. Let me know if you want a mechanic to look at it. I have a friend who’ll charge you cheap rates, okay?”

  Tears filled her eyes for a moment. She blinked rapidly. Mike reminded her so much of her dad it made her melancholy sometimes.

  “Thanks, Mike. Now, I have to get to work on some invoices.”

  Mike laughed. “Don’t know where we’d be without you, do we Gary?”

  “Nope. Things wouldn’t be the same around here without Kinley.” The words were pleasant, but the look on his face as she glanced up wasn’t. Unease filled her for a moment, but she pushed that aside. This was Gary. He was a dick, but he was harmless. He turned and left, his jeans hanging loosely around his ass, and she turned to her computer, soon forgetting about Gary-the-sleaze.

  11

  With a huge yawn, Kinley blinked to focus her vision as she scrubbed the toilet. She didn’t mind cleaning. The only problem was, it gave her time to ponder her other problems. Like the fact that her car was dead, and she had no idea what to do about it, that Sloan still hadn’t contacted her. They were over.

  She fought to hold back tears. Nearly three weeks with no word.

  With a sigh, she moved to the next cubicle. At least she didn’t have to worry about running into James tonight. Elsa had told her that he’d left that morning and his office no longer needed cleaning. She guessed that meant he wasn’t coming back for a while.

  Instead of cleaning two levels of the building, Elsa had assigned her to scour all the toilets. A punishment, she speculated. She’d noticed that Gloria and Elsa had become very friendly. So, she supposed it was about James. She didn’t understand what they thought was going on between them, but she hadn’t argued. What did she care if she had to clean the toilets?

  She stood and had to press her hand against the cubicle wall as her head spun. Drat. She’d been feeling off since lunchtime.

  Her phone rang, and she frowned. She thought she’d muted it. In her rush to get here on time, she must have forgotten. Taking public transportation everywhere was even more of a hassle than she’d expected. The bus never seemed to run at the right time, and she was constantly running around trying to get everywhere.

  Elsa had reprimanded her when she’d arrived five minutes late tonight and told her she’d have to make it up by working late. Even though she’d been early every other night. So, she’d have to take the later bus home. Great.

  It wasn’t really catching the bus that was the problem. It was the four blocks she had to walk in the dark to get home at the other end.

  She sighed as she pulled her phone out of her pocket, nearly dropping it in shock when she saw the name displayed on the screen. Sloan. He was calling.

  She went cold then hot. Was this it? Was he calling to tell her it was over? Why bother? She got it. She’d fucked up and ruined things, as usual.

  “You going to answer that or just let it drone on?” a voice asked from outside the stall.

  With a scream, she jumped and let go of the phone, watching in horror as it fell into the toilet bowl with a plop. The room went instantly silent.

  “No!” She knelt and grabbed the phone, not even flinching as she stuck her hand into the water. Pulling it out, she shook it vigorously.

  “Here, give it to me. You need to take the battery out.”

  She ignored him, rubbing the phone against her smock then attempting to turn it on. It lit up for a second and her heart nearly stopped with hope. Then the screen went a strange color, and a bunch of squiggly lines appeared.

  “Kinley, pass me the phone.” The voice was much firmer this time, and she glanced up at James, who stood in the open doorway of the cubicle.

  “You scared me,” she snapped at him. But she held up the phone to him. He easily removed the battery then rubbed it against his pants leg.

  “Don’t. You’ll get your pants dirty,” she protested.

  He gave her a look of disbelief. “It’s just water.” Toilet water, although she didn’t point that out.

  “There’s a heater in my apartment.”

  What did that have to do with anything? Maybe she wasn’t firing on all cylinders at the moment, but she still couldn’t make the connection.

  “We need to put it somewhere to dry out,” he explained gently, frowning slightly as he studied her. “Are you okay, Kinley?”

  “Of course I am.”

  She was wondering if that was the truth, though. Her head was swimming, and she felt a bit nauseous and sweaty.

  That could just be because of the fright she’d just had. Or the fact that Sloan had been calling, and she’d missed it.

  “I need to use a phone.” She had to call him back. He’d think she was dodging his calls. But then why should she answer him right away? Shouldn’t she make him wait like he’d done to her? Except Kinley didn’t play games. Wouldn’t know where to start. No, she needed to call him back. She looked up at James, who was tucking her phone and battery into his pocket. As soon as I get somewhere private.

  “You really need to stop sneaking around. You’re going to give someone a heart attack.”

  “I apologize for scaring you. I thought you’d have heard the door open.”

  The fire in her temper disappeared in the face of his genuine apology. “I guess I was preoccupied.”

  “A pretty important phone call?”

  “It was my . . . just a friend,” she told him. “It can wait until I’m finished here.” Sloan could break up with her in the morning as easily as tonight.

  “Not your boyfriend?”

  “No,” she lied. Well, was it a lie?

  “Everything all right between the two of you?”

  She gazed up at him through narrowed eyes. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  She could almost swear she heard him say, “It will be.” That made no sense, though. She was obviously hearing things.

  “What are you doing cleaning down here?” James asked. “This isn’t your floor to clean.”

  “I’ve been reassigned.”

  He frowned. “What? Why? I told Elsa I wanted you cleaning my office.”

  “She said you left this morning, and she didn’t think you would be back anytime soon.”

  “Elsa didn’t have the right to make that call.”

  She felt a bit sorry for Elsa. If the look on James’

s face was any indication, she was soon going to get an earful from him.

  “She obviously didn’t know you’d be coming back. You can’t blame her.”

  “Can’t I? She works for me. She follows my orders. I don’t pay her to second guess my decisions.”

  She winced. Ouch. He really wasn’t happy. She wished she was standing, rather than sitting on the floor with him looming over her, but, frankly, she wasn’t quite certain her legs were going to support her. “Why were you assigned these floors?”

  Now she really didn’t want to answer his questions. “It doesn’t matter, James,” she said tiredly. “Fact is, I’ve got to keep moving or I’ll miss my bus.”

  He stilled. Then his eyes widened, and her breath caught at the look on his face. Scary and gorgeous.

  “The bus? You’re planning on taking the bus home? In the dark?”

  “How else am I going to get home?” she snapped. “I’d spend all my wages taking taxis.” Enough was enough. She needed to get on her feet and show him she wasn’t a pushover. He might be her boss at work, but she was in charge of the rest of her life. She stood, using the toilet seat to brace herself. She was glad she’d already cleaned it. Just as she straightened up, a wave of dizziness washed over her, making her groan softly as the world tilted. She would have fallen had strong arms not surrounded her.

  James pulled her towards his chest, holding her tightly. Nausea washed over her, and her breathing became fast and shallow. She would not vomit on her boss. She would not. She would not.

  “Jesus, Kinley, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

  “Because I didn’t know I was.” Drat. She hadn’t meant to sound so snappish. But her head was really pounding, and she just wanted to lie down.

  “You couldn’t feel yourself getting sick? What? You didn’t notice you had a temperature? That you felt dizzy? Are you going to vomit?”

  “No.” Maybe. “Better just turn me towards the toilet just in case.”

  He turned her around, just in time, as her stomach heaved, turning into a tight, painful bundle. She started to sob, she hated throwing up. Always had. But more than that she hated throwing up in front of him.

  “Please just leave,” she begged.

  “No.”

  He crouched behind her, supporting her, holding her hair back with one hand.

  “Are you trying to humiliate me?”

  “No, I’m trying to take care of you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Sure, you are,” he said sarcastically. “Have you finished vomiting?”

  She thought about that for a few seconds, but decided she probably had. “Yes.”

  “Good. Wait here.” He flushed the toilet then left. Where else could she go? Her legs felt like jelly, she knew it was going to take her a while to find the strength to walk. And then she had to make her way home on the bus, as well as walk to her place. She groaned at the thought.

  James returned and then half-turned her. Grasping her chin, he tilted her face up. He ran a wet paper towel over her face. She nearly sighed in bliss, even though she felt like a two-year-old getting her face washed. He moved with a brisk efficiency, not giving her time to protest. When he finished, he chucked the paper towel into the toilet.

  “You shouldn’t throw that in there, you’ll clog it up.”

  “Hush.”

  “But—”

  “Kinley, be quiet.” The firm note in his voice made her frown, but she remained quiet. They’re his toilets. If he wants to block them it’s up to him.

  “Yes, it is,” he agreed, surprising her. She hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud. He chucked the second paper towel he’d used on her hands into the toilet as well and flushed it.

  Suddenly, his arm slid around her shoulders, his other arm under her legs, and she found herself airborne.

  She squeaked. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m taking you up to my apartment. You’re in no condition to be working.”

  “You can’t carry me! I’m too heavy.”

  He stilled. “We’re going to have a chat about that later.” His voice was ominous. “You are not heavy.”

  “You’re burning up with fever and you don’t know what you’re saying. Although, it’s refreshing because now I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

  He didn’t sound so happy about that, though. She glanced up to find him frowning as they left the bathroom, and he strode down the passage. Why is he so angry?

  “Because you seem to have some misconceptions about your weight, and I’m not happy you came to work while ill.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll make the time up.”

  “I’m not worried about you making the damn time up,” he snapped as he entered the elevator. “You shouldn’t be working if you’re unwell.”

  “I thought it was just a headache when I left home. You should really put me down before you hurt your back.”

  “Kinley,” he growled.

  What did I say now? Boy, he’s in a touchy mood.

  “I am not in a touchy mood. Woman, you know how to push my buttons like no one else.”

  And he thought he wasn’t in a touchy mood?

  “I’m going to put you down so I can grab my card. I can’t enter the floor to my apartment without swiping it.”

  She nodded, regretting it as her head spun. He placed her on her feet but held her still as she started to tilt over. “It’s good you have so much security. Can’t be too careful when you’re as rich as you are.”

  He stilled, and she worried she’d said something wrong. What had she said? Oh, he probably thought she was after his money. She scowled at him. “I’m not after your money.”

  “I never said you were,” he replied mildly as he pulled her back into his arms. She smacked at his chest.

  “Stop that! Put me down.”

  “If I put you down, you’ll fall flat on your ass. “

  “I will not! I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’ve been doing that for a long time.”

  “Yes, you take such good of yourself that you came to work when you were ill.” He walked out of the elevator. She attempted to look around but every time she moved her head it pounded and made her feel like vomiting. He walked down a short hallway.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

  “What was your boyfriend thinking, letting you come to work like this? He ought to be shot.”

  “He doesn’t know I’m ill,” she protested, not sure why she was defending Sloan.

  James placed her down on a bed. She sank into the plush comforter with a groan of delight. It felt so good to be lying down. And this bed was so soft and comfortable. Very different from her hard bed with her thin mattress.

  But she couldn’t lay there. It was her boss’s bedroom. Well, probably not his bedroom. She looked around noting how impersonal and tidy it was. Spare bedroom. It didn’t make a difference, though. She shouldn’t be here.

  She attempted to sit, and he gently pushed her back.

  “Hey!”

  “Stay still.”

  “I can’t be here.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Why? Will your boyfriend get jealous?”

  She sighed, closing her eyes. “No, he won’t.”

  “What an idiot,” he muttered.

  “What?” she asked, certain he couldn’t have said that.

  “Nothing,” he told her. “Don’t mind me.”

  She noticed for the first time how tired he looked.

  “You look exhausted, haven’t you been sleeping?”

  He just stared at her for a moment. “Oddly enough, no. And if I look exhausted, then you look half-dead. Haven’t you been sleeping?”

  She frowned. “It’s not nice to tell a woman she looks half-dead. How come all those articles about you call you charming?”

  He grinned. “Because they don’t know the real me.”

  Truer words were never spoken. He was rude, argumentative, and bossy. Although, when he smiled at her like that . . . yeah, she thought he could be charming under the right circumstances. “They certainly don’t.”

  “I don’t let many people see the real me.”

  She studied him for a moment, wondering if she’d really heard a note of vulnerability in his voice or if she’d imagined it.

  “So, I should consider myself lucky you’re such an ass to me because it’s the real you?”

  His grin widened. “That’s one way to put it.”

  She snorted. “I can tell you another way to put it. I think you’re argumentative, rude, and bossy. And I think I want to go home.” Humiliatingly, tears started to drip down her cheeks.

  “Oh, sweetheart. I’m not taking very good care of you, am I?” The soft sympathy in his voice threatened to turn those tears to sobs. But she couldn’t fall into the trap of thinking she meant more to him than she really did. That he truly cared. She was probably just a charity case. He felt sorry for her, and who could blame him?

  “It’s not your job to take care of me.”

  He cupped her cheeks. “Someone has to. Your boyfriend hasn’t been doing a very good job.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Of course you can.” Well, that wasn’t the answer she’d expected. It made her pause and frown up at him. “But I can take care of you better.”

  She sighed. Yep, arrogant.

  “Why would you want to take care of me?” she asked, her voice more tired than irritated. It was so hard to stay irritated when she was lying on a cloud, and she was so tired. Her stomach hurt from the vomiting. Maybe she should just rest her eyes for a bit, then she could leave. Taking the bus home was going to be a real pain. Conserving her energy was a good idea.

  “Or do you bring all your sick employees up here?”

  “Hardly,” he said dryly. “You’re the first person I’ve had up here in a long, long time.”

  “What about all those women in the magazines and on the news?”

  There was a pause, and she opened her eyes, curious. Was he . . . was he blushing? Surely not. It was just hot in here. She pulled at her shirt uncomfortably. “Could you turn the air up? It’s hot in here.”

  -->