By Appointment Only

by Lisa Eugene

  I had no interest in love, commitment, or a soul mate. Those things didn’t exist. Chase excited me. He ignited my body and made me feel. I was able to suspend my harried life and enjoy a brief, mindless escape into pleasure. With him I could just let go.

  Pushing through the wooden doors, I stepped into his bright office.

  “You’re late.” The reprimand came from the couch.

  Chase was settled on the black leather, looking casual, his long legs extended in front of him. He’d shed his jacket, tossed it over the back of the couch, and his sleeves were rolled up exposing thick, ropey forearms. His tumbler was already in hand. I was arrested by his strong features and the hard, artful lines of his body.

  He pulled his dark brows into a furrow, accentuating his scowl. “You were supposed to be here at six.”

  I glanced at a wall clock. “I’m only eight minutes late.” His scowl deepened and I shot him a teasing smile. “Were you worried I wouldn’t show?”

  “I knew you would.”

  “Liar,” I grinned, feeling strangely joyful. “Come on, admit it. You were worried.”

  His face remained rigid, but genuine amusement started a dance in his eyes. He took a slow sip of his drink, watching me.

  “How was your job interview?”

  Huh? I stared blankly, totally thrown off guard.

  He rolled his eyes in exasperation and I wanted to smile again. “Your interview? Last Wednesday? You know . . . the one you couldn’t miss.”

  He remembered.

  That had been the interview at the fast food place. I hadn’t taken the job. They’d only offered the night shift and I had no one to watch Emmy. I also didn’t like the idea of being away from her every night. We had our routines. Emmy was a stickler about routines, about keeping everything in her life in perfect order.

  I shrugged and walked toward the desk, not knowing where else to go. I hadn’t been offered an invitation to the couch.

  “It didn’t work out,” I informed, my back to him. In fact, none of the interviews I’d had so far had worked out. I’d had two others last week and hadn’t received callbacks. “It’s been a tough week,” I added under my breath.

  “For me, too.”

  Hearing his soft confession, I spun on my heels. Our eyes met and held. Understanding and a strange comfort flowed in the connection.

  “I saw you on TV. I saw that reporter harassing you outside the hospital,” I stated, hoping he’d elaborate on why he’d been there, maybe assuage my budding curiosity.

  There was a perceptible pause as he frowned and searched my face. He was wondering how much I knew—if anything. Sadness flickered in his eyes. He seemed about to say something, but then relaxed and his lips turned up in a lopsided smile.

  “Yeah, he was all up in my grill.”

  His words startled a laugh from me. I folded my arms across my chest and regarded him, loving the way his eyes teased. A dimple I hadn’t previously noticed played hide and seek next to his beautiful mouth.

  “Flex-Steel has been making headlines,” I added, guessing that was another reason for his tough week.

  He nodded, standing. In a few long strides he was in front of me. He stopped a few feet away. I wanted him much closer.

  “The environmentalists are vilifying your company,” I continued, trying to ignore the havoc his nearness stirred. “I’m sorry. The allegations must be damaging, and the public can be quick to believe slander.”

  His gaze never left mine as he confessed, “The allegations are true.”

  Shock stole my breath and dulled my tongue. I didn’t know how to respond. An image of him running from the news cameras replayed in my head like a horrible scene stuck in a blind loop.

  He sighed wearily. “We’ve changed management in our Thai factory twice in the last year. Yet, it still continues. They’re dumping into the ground and heavy metals are seeping into local water. I’ve been trying to rectify the problem, with little success.”

  I shook my head, still stunned. “Your CEO was on the news denying everything, saying the allegations are false, blasting the environmentalists.”

  He took a long sip. “He’s lying. He’s covering up. The factory is polluting the water.”

  Frowning, I said, “I’m surprised it’s still operating. Aren’t there regulations?”

  “The Thai government hasn’t shut the plant down because Robert, our CEO, has been paying off an official in their parliament. It’s our most profitable factory.”

  The words were said stoically, but each one could’ve been packed with an explosive. He exhaled deeply, as if blowing away a great burden, but his lips pulled in a hard, thin line.

  My eyes felt as round as saucers. I was floored by his confession.

  “I don’t condone what he’s doing,” he continued. “No one knows about it except for me—and now you. My plan was to leave the company months ago, to devote my time entirely to the election, but I can’t leave it like this, in Robert’s hands. I’ve threatened to expose him, but it’s complicated.”

  “Because you’re running for office,” I said slowly, realizing his political aspirations could all come crumbling down with a scandal of this magnitude.

  “That, and the fact that I’ve helped to build this company. Robert and I started it over a decade ago. I’ve been trying to rectify the problem in Thailand, to find a way to make the plant safe. But it takes time.”

  “It must be difficult trying to rectify a problem your company denies exists.”

  “I’ve been working with several containment companies overseas.”

  “How do you ensure they’re taking care of the problem when you’re halfway around the world?”

  He scratched his jaw and gave me a concurring nod, seeming impressed that I’d accurately perceived the issue. “That’s just it. Just when I think we’ve finally gotten it under control, something else happens.”

  “How is your CEO able to get away with this?”

  His eyes hardened. “Robert has . . . connections, people he pays to handle things. They’re basically freelance operators, highly trained ex-military mercenaries for hire. The group calls themselves Los Lobos and will do anything for the right price. They handle everything from solving kidnappings to carrying out assassinations. Whatever you need, they’ll do it. They’ve been “handling” the Thai officials, forging documents Robert’s been feeding our board. They’ve been keeping the press away from the plant.”

  I was still confused. “But word got out. It’s been in the news.”

  “Someone from the plant leaked the story and everyone has jumped on the bandwagon. But they have no proof. Los Lobos have seen to that. Right now it’s just rumors.”

  I blinked hard, wondering why he was trusting me with this information. For all he knew, I could turn around and sell this story to the press.

  As if sensing the twist of my thoughts, he said, “You understand that this must be kept private.”

  I nodded, my mind still reeling. I thought about his interviews, how, unlike his CEO, he’d never come out and denied the allegations. He’d simply skirted the issue, danced around the questions like a skillful politician. I respected the fact that he seemed to care about what was happening, that he was trying to fix the problem and handle the clean-up, especially when the company’s CEO appeared only interested in keeping their most profitable factory operating.

  “Your CEO has been on the news denying everything. He’s been lying.” I said, realizing I sounded naive.

  Chase nodded silently. “Robert can be very convincing. He doesn’t mind doing whatever he believes is necessary to accomplish his goals.”

  Chase was in an impossible position. I felt him still eyeing me, watching my reaction closely.

  “I’d never say anything,” I assured. “Believe me, I’m too busy bouncing between job interviews to be plotting your downfall.”

  “Good, considering your glowing opinion of me, I couldn’t be sure.”

  He’d said it w
ith a straight face, but his eyes teased again, jabbing with pointed sarcasm.

  I tilted my head and regarded him, remembering the scathing words I’d thrown at him after Emmy’s expulsion from his school. Had he been wounded by my words? Why would my opinion of him matter so much?

  What he’d just confided was potentially explosive. His company would be ruined if it became public knowledge. He could be ruined if word got out. No wonder he always looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, like a disgruntled lion ready to tear into everything around him.

  He looked exhausted, although not as haggard as when I’d seen him leaving the hospital. Maybe his troubles were taking a physical toll. Maybe that was why he’d been at Beth Israel.

  Maybe it is something else.

  I wanted to ask about the personal problem his companion had alluded to, about his health. If he was running for office, he couldn’t have that bad of a prognosis, could he?

  He’d just trusted me with sensitive company secrets, but his private life was another story, and this relationship wasn’t about personal. It wasn’t about getting to know each other.

  What is it about exactly? I had no idea, but I’d promised myself I wouldn’t pry, that I’d heed Wanda’s words and just go with the flow.

  Finally, I said, “I’m sorry about all the problems you’re having with Flex-Steel.”

  He nodded, accepting that, then his brows pleated.

  “Why did you lose your job?”

  “Long story,” I answered with a dismissive wave, not sure I wanted to get into it. For the first time, we weren’t fighting.

  “Tell me,” he said, and I knew he wasn’t going to drop it.

  “Because I had to leave to pick up Emmy from the Academy. Mr. Clancy was being a real dick. He was worried she’d disrupt your press conference. My boss told me that if I left, I’d be fired. Well, my daughter always comes first.”

  “I’m sorry that happened.”

  I shrugged, not wanting to dwell on it. “Shit happens. I deal with it.”

  Head cocked, he studied me. He did that for so long I started to feel self-conscious. He looked so burdened and so consumed that my heart couldn’t help but ache for him. I wanted to hold him, to offer some measure of comfort. Without thinking, I took a step forward, closing the distance between us. I stopped suddenly when he abruptly stepped back.

  “Don’t.” He shook his head, his blue eyes wary. He squeezed his eyes shut for a minute, seeming troubled and ambivalent. When he opened them, his gaze was tender, apologetic. This was the softest I’d ever seen him, the most transparent.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he confessed after a pause. “I was worried you wouldn’t come. I—I enjoy our time together. I look forward to it.”

  I smiled at the admission I couldn’t extract earlier.

  “I enjoy our time together, too.” I heard myself say.

  “Dani, it has to be this way.” He waved a hand toward the desk, then sighed. “Agreed?”

  The moment stretched into a loud silence as flutters blossomed in my belly. I wanted more from him, but I wasn’t willing to walk away just yet. Perhaps in time, he’d let me in. I nodded quietly and watched relief unveil itself in his eyes. Sparks of delight followed, sharpening his gaze.

  “Take down your hair,” he instructed softly.

  I hadn’t expected the deviation from his usual stern command to undress. Holding my breath, I slowly pulled the band from my ponytail. My hair fell around my shoulders in fluffy textured curls. He watched as though he could see every strand unfurl into place.

  “You are beautiful,” he whispered, and God help me, I blushed like a hormonal teen. His gaze roamed my face. “Your coloring is unusual.”

  “I’m biracial. My mother is African American and my father is Irish.”

  He quirked a brow. “Is that so?”

  I nodded, not sure what he was thinking. There was nothing in his eyes, though, but genuine curiosity. I’d always been proud of my dual ethnicity. Because I looked more like my father, I’d found I needed to be vocal, even defensive about my black heritage. As I’d grown older, I realized life was more about who you are inside and the strength you gained from your heritage than from how people defined you. My ex was very opinionated. Although we’d gotten married and had a child, there were parts of me he’d never accepted. That, and a few other things, should’ve been a clue from the get-go that things were never going to work out.

  “Do they live in Queens, too?”

  I paused, wondering how he knew where I lived, then assumed he’d found out through the school. “My mother does. My father died when I was a child.”

  “How old are you, Dani?”

  Tilting my head, I stared. Something told me he already knew the answer to his question. I didn’t like this interrogation that seemed far too personal, but smothering my annoyance I answered him.

  “Twenty-six.”

  “I’m thirteen years older than you,” he said, watching me intently. I knew he was waiting for a reaction.

  Shrugging, I said honestly. “That doesn’t matter to me.” Crossing my arms over my breasts, I couldn’t keep the irritation from my voice. “What the fuck? Do you need my shoe and bra size, too?”

  The corner of his lips twitched with amusement as his gaze traveled lazily up my body. From the look in his eyes, you’d think he knew the answer to those questions too.

  “Undress for me. Slowly,” he ordered at length, and I was glad we’d moved on. I’d found his probing unnerving.

  With a lazy efficiency, I peeled off my jeans and sweater. I kept my eyes averted, still not entirely comfortable being naked in his presence. After what happened the last time, I would’ve thought I’d be used to his watchful stare. I removed everything except for my panties. Today I’d worn what I thought was my sexiest pair, an all-black lace, sad excuse for covering, that I’d fished from the back of my drawer. As I hooked my thumbs into the waistband, I suddenly remembered something.

  “Wait a sec.” My head jerked up. “Before I go any further, I should explain . . .”

  His forehead creased with a small wrinkle of worry.

  “I know you said to shave—that you wanted me . . . bare, but . . . I couldn’t do it.”

  I continued at his curious silence.

  “I mean . . . not all of me. I just thought it would be weird.” I swallowed, nervous again. This was never something I’d ever discussed with someone. “I mean I only did half.”

  He shot up a brow and looked so puzzled I chuckled. The look he gave me was comical. So much so that I quickly caught his train of thought and rode it out to a hilarious image. Clutching my stomach, I started laughing out loud, the sound flowing around the large room.

  “No! Oh God! Not like right half or left half! That would be . . . well crazy. I mean . . . I only did the . . . lower half. I left a small V on top.”

  He laughed, too, the sound rumbled through me like a perfect tickle. I didn’t think him capable.

  “I was starting to wonder,” he said. “With you, there’s no telling. You might do that just to spite me.”

  I rolled my eyes in mock indignation and shimmied my panties down my hips. He watched, his eyes filled with anticipation as I peeled them off.

  “Lay back on the desk and open your legs. Let me see how beautiful you are.”

  I slid my ass onto the desk and did as instructed. I was already wet, had been since I’d walked into his office. Just the thought of him did that to me.

  “My God . . .” I heard him utter breathlessly. “You’re perfect . . . so goddamn beautiful. Touch yourself. Run your fingers along your bare flesh.”

  Just hearing his fervent appreciation and the uneven hitch as he exhaled had me squirming on the hard wood. My sex felt more sensitive, more responsive to my touch. I wondered if it was my newly bared skin, or the fact that he seemed so pleased by it. Either way, I was so turned on, I knew my journey toward orgasm would be a quick one. He watch
ed as I stroked, heard my moans as I pleasured myself for his enjoyment.

  “Slowly, Dani . . . good . . . now inside. Push in deep,” he whispered when it became obvious my control was fraying at the edges. “You are glistening so beautifully. Make it last. Draw it out. I want you dripping. Let me see you weep.”

  Oh! I was already weeping. My entire body cried out for him, my mind in a heady fog of image after image of us tangled in ecstasy.

  “I can only imagine how delicious you must be . . .” he moaned. I watched him lick his lips and pleasure rocked through me.

  I followed his direction, peeling myself open when he asked and strumming my clit to the sound of his compelling words. At one point, he ordered me to stop and just play with my breasts as he circled the desk for a better vantage point.

  I had an unobstructed view of his cock pushing eagerly against his zipper. He strained so hard against the fabric it sketched an outline of the fat mushroom head and thick shaft. I was insane with desire when I reached back between my legs. My mind swirled with images of him pumping his big cock in and out of me. His deep voice rumbled along every nerve ending, tuning each to a feverish pitch. It wasn’t long before I was free-falling, drowning and gasping as pleasure ravaged my trembling body.

  I relaxed on the desk, my body languid, listening to the rhythm of Chase’s ragged breaths. He didn’t ask me to get dressed right away and I was glad, not sure my limbs were capable of taking orders. Instead, he stood quietly, as still as the air chilling the room, still watching me. I closed my eyes and pictured myself in his arms, my cheek pillowed on his strong shoulder, the scent of his skin in my nose. I allowed that guilty indulgence, and for a fleeting moment, my world was perfect.

  ***

  “I consented to Emmy’s concert,” I told my mother three weeks later.

  Mom’s forehead pleated. “Are you sure?”

  “I told them I’d only allow her to perform for other students and teachers from the Academy. No outside administrators, and definitely no media,” I explained, sweeping the broom across the cracked linoleum floor. It surprised me how fast the dust accumulated. Emmy suffered from allergies, and I was meticulous about keeping the apartment clean.