by Tia Siren
The thought of staying in Bastian’s log mansion was enough to make my head ache with confusion, but for him to be here the entire time? A whole new sensation took over.
“You’re going to stay here the entire time?” I repeated. “Bastian, you don’t have to stay here. I can handle everything by myself.”
Bastian’s eyes didn’t falter in their intensity as he shook his head at me. “I’m serious when I say that. I’m going to stay here because I’m worried about you going back to that dickhead ex-boyfriend of yours.”
“What makes you think I would do that?” I asked defensively, crossing my arms. “Do you think I enjoy being his punching bag?”
“Obviously not,” he replied, and dark clouds gathered in his eyes. “I just know how tough it is to get away from that situation. He’s going to throw out an apology to you and promise change, but are you going to believe it?”
I turned away to gaze at the king-sized canopy bed that called my name. Exhaustion tugged at my brain as I stared down at the mountain of throw pillows that smelled fresh and clean. The entire guest room was the size of my house back in Salt Lake. My old house, I corrected with a painful jolt. Maybe Bastian had a point about having a hard time letting go of the past. It wasn’t easy to just forget years’ worth of the good times, either.
“That’s what I thought,” Bastian said. “It’s not easy, Joanna. No one is saying that it will be, but you’ve got to see your self-worth here You don’t deserve to be in a relationship where you are getting hurt all the time.”
Bitterness tore through me as I stared at the suitcases at the end of the bed. This was what my life had come to—living out of suitcases because I had been too afraid and confused about what to do when it came to Sid. I could’ve walked away the first time Sid had punched me, but I had forgiven him the moment that he had promised to get help. The help had lasted for a few months, and Sid had explained to me that it was the stress from his job. He saw horrific things. He told family members that their loved ones were dead and had been mangled in car accidents. Shit like that weighed heavily on a person’s soul over time. His temper never quieted though. Those appointments with the police department counselor eventually tapered off, and the physical abuse began again.
It was all a vicious cycle that was only broken up by going to work, Monday through Friday from eight to five. That was my respite, my break from how fucked up things had gotten in my life.
I still felt uneasy, though, being alone with Bastian for an entire week while he worked from his office here. I had made it a point to limit my contact with him as much as possible over the years to avoid embarrassing myself because I found him attractive in every way possible. Despite that hard exterior he carried around in the office back in Salt Lake, he had a warm and compassionate side. He hadn’t hesitated to jump in when I was drowning within Sid’s control but also in my own fucked-up emotions that didn’t know which way was up these days. Everything just felt utterly numb and confusing at the same time.
“I don’t think being here with me alone will be a good idea,” I said, curling my fingers around the wooden post. “I mean, you’re a busy man. I know that you are from handling your schedule. You don’t have to compromise your work to babysit me here.”
“It’s not babysitting,” he said, rolling his eyes with a small smile. “Don’t be so stubborn about it, Jo. I’m going to stay here with you for the week while things settle down. You can stay here as long as you want.”
“Until I find a place in the city.”
I couldn’t live in Bastian’s guest room for the rest of my life. We had already crossed so many lines between being professional at work and getting too personal, what with living in close quarters with one another. Judging from the grimace on Bastian’s face, he still didn’t like the idea of me moving out into the world without him to watch over me. It had to happen, though. I couldn’t always stay underneath his wing, even if it was tempting to nestle inside Bastian’s life.
“I have to leave here eventually,” I remarked, reading the look on his face. “It’s called false imprisonment by the way. You used the wrong word back there against a police officer. That’s why he laughed at you.”
The corner of Bastian’s lips quirked up at that.
“Well, he was trying to entrap me into a fight,” he said. “Until he pulled the gun. He was baiting me at that point to do something.”
Fear bubbled in the back of my throat. It seemed forever ago that I had packed up my bags to leave, but it was only a few hours ago that Bastian had thrown my phone out the SUV window. It didn’t matter if there was a tracking app on that phone, though. Sid’s resources could easily locate personal documents regarding where Bastian owned houses and property. It was only a matter of time before he figured out where I had gone.
“I wouldn’t put it past him to shoot you,” I said. “He isn’t afraid to shoot first and then explain it all way later.”
Bastian didn’t look entirely fearful of that. He shrugged his shoulders indifferently before straightening up.
“Not the first time someone has threatened to kill me,” he remarked. “I’m sure that it won’t be the last, either.”
“Someone has threatened to kill you before?” I asked dubiously. “You work inside an office. How is that possible?”
“Business deals go sour all the time. It happens more than you think.”
That made perfect sense. The business world was pretty cutthroat, and I could imagine pride and bitterness resulting from lost opportunities or getting one-upped by another investment firm. I could see people taking things personally and getting mad enough to threaten to kill someone, whether they meant it or not.
“Good point,” I said, smiling thinly. “Well, thank you again for helping me. This is more than I can ever afford to pay you back.”
“You don’t have to pay me back with anything,” Bastian said. A strange spark flickered in his eyes for a brief second, and then the spark was gone. He cleared his throat as he took a step back from the doorframe. “Give it some time here before you think about going out on your own. Your job is always going to be available to you as long as you want it.”
“Thank you, Bastian.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I can’t thank you enough for doing what you’ve done for me today.”
Bastian nodded curtly as he took another step back from the door. “Of course. I’ll let you get settled in.” He ran a hand along his hair with a short laugh. “I don’t know about you, but I need a hot shower to get rid of this day.”
“Sounds pleasant,” I said. “Thank you.”
He closed the door behind himself. I let out a pent-up breath the second I heard his footsteps retreat down the hallway in the direction of what I assumed was his own room. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I tried to wrap my head around the past few hours. Nothing would ever be the same. My life before coming to Park City was now over. I didn’t know whether to be happy it was over or to grieve about it. No matter what Bastian said, things would be very different when I walked back into his office whenever it was safe to do so.
If it ever would be safe again.
I doubted that it would ever be safe knowing how furious Sid was. Nerves churned in my stomach as I picked up my brand-new iPhone to dial my parents’ house number. It was my mother who answered in a cheerful voice that instantly brought tears to my eyes.
“Hello? Lind residence.”
“Hi, Mom,” I managed to say in a somewhat steady voice. “How are you?”
“Joanna? Oh, honey, I can hear the tears in your voice. What is going on? Are you okay?”
I wiped at my nose with the edge of my sweater sleeve. “I’m okay. I mean, I’m okay now. I just wanted to let you and Dad know to not pick up any phone calls from Sid from now on.”
“Don’t accept his phone calls?” she asked.
“No, don’t accept them. We broke up, and I moved out of our house.”
“Hold on a moment here.” T
he concern and alarm in my mother’s voice was thick. “What is going on, sweetheart? What happened?”
“We, um, had a fight this weekend is all,” I said in a strained voice. “We haven’t been happy in a while, but things got a bit out of control this weekend, so I decided it was a good time to leave before it got worse.”
“You’re being vague, Joanna. Were you physically harmed in this fight?”
“Yes.” I heard my mother’s sharp intake on the other end of the phone. “I’m okay right now, Mom. Please don’t freak out over this. It’s already been hard enough trying to cope with it.”
“I’m just confused, Joanna. I got a flurry of calls from Sid over the past hour.” My stomach clenched in dread at that. “Now you’re calling me from a phone number I don’t recognize. Where are you exactly?”
I debated on telling her where I was but settled against it. As protective as my mother could be, she had a horrible habit of not keeping secrets.
“I’m okay where I’m at, I promise,” I said. “Don’t worry about me, Mom. I’m just letting you know that if Sid tries to talk to you, just ignore him.”
“If he has hit you, Jo, you need to report him. That’s how these things get stopped, not running away from the problem without legal actions to hold him accountable.”
I remembered Bastian’s threats about going after Sid’s badge and gun. I hoped he would follow through with that because I didn’t want to file charges for myself just yet. Not until the real truth about Sid came out.
“I’ll do what I need to do when the time is right,” I said. “I have to go, Mom. I’ll call you in a couple of days.”
“What? Hang on a minute here, Joanna. I’m your mother and—”
I ended the call before she could finish her sentence. Hot guilt flooded through me, but it was for the best if my mother didn’t have much knowledge about what was going on. I ventured down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen I had glimpsed briefly while Bastian had been outside getting my bags. I clicked the lights on to take in the spacious kitchen, which had a large flat top stove built into the kitchen island.
After rummaging through the freezer and pantry, I stared down at the ingredients in front of me with a frown. I doubted Bastian ever kept food in the house, but with the snowfall coming down thicker now, I knew a trip to the grocery store would be treacherous if attempted.
I glanced out the kitchen window to see snow already piling up on the wraparound porch. We were going to be snowed in for a few days, but being snowed in with Bastian didn’t seem like a bad thing at all.
Chapter 11
Bastian
The smell of garlic bread and marinara sauce greeted me when I came back down from taking a long hot shower to get rid of the stress from the day. I paused in the hallway to listen to Joanna’s soft patter of footsteps in the kitchen. Taking my word, she had gone downstairs to make herself comfortable in the kitchen. Judging from the delicious aroma lingering about in the air, she had pulled off a decent meal before I could have my maid run to the store.
I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had cooked in the kitchen besides a few staff members over the years. Sierra never cooked. She didn’t think it was worth learning when she had the money to have someone do it for her.
A swell of emotions rose in me. I couldn’t afford to think about how close Joanna was to me now. I had made the promise to help her get through the next couple of weeks, so I needed to keep my desires and everything else at bay. She had been through hell and back with her ex-boyfriend terrorizing the life out of her.
I pushed the door open to find Joanna pouring hot water out of a pot and into the sink. She turned to look at me when the door swung open beneath the palm of my hand. A shy smile tugged at her lips, and it took all my self-control not to rush across the kitchen to kiss her. The strands of her fair hair wisped around her flushed face as she nodded at the small kitchen nook where a few plates were set up.
“I figured you might be hungry,” she said. “I found a few things in the freezer and pantry to cook us a decent meal.”
“Thank you,” I replied, touched by the gesture. “How about some wine to go with the meal?”
“Sounds delightful to me.”
I pulled out a bottle from the wine cellar built into the pantry while Joanna set a large bowl of spaghetti noodles in the center of the table, followed by a bowl of marinara sauce. I poured us both a large glass of wine before we settled into the nook to gaze out the windows. The storm clouds on the horizon were now unleashing their fury in the form of a thick and sticky snow.
“You could’ve called in something,” I said while Joanna dished up her plate. “It’s no trouble to order food around here. Many places know where to charge to.”
Joanna smiled at me. “I prefer home-cooked meals. Your ex-wife never cooked, did she?”
“Never in a million years,” I replied, laughing. “She doesn’t even know how to boil water. We always ordered in.”
“That’s sad. I always take the time to cook a meal at the end of the day. Nothing beats the smell of a home-cooked meal after a long day in the office.”
“No shit.” I inhaled deeply as I dished up my plate. “I think I could get used to this type of thing. Easily.”
“I’m glad I’m good for some things then. It’s nice to be appreciated.”
Those words cut right through me. I looked up as Joanna sipped at her wine heartily, her eyes focused on her dinner plate. It took all my resolve not to reach out and touch her, to show her my own appreciation in the most sexual way possible. I reached for my glass of wine instead to take a long drink. If I had any hope of keeping my hands to myself, then I needed to keep my hands occupied with eating and drinking wine.
“You are appreciated in many ways,” I said. “You’re amazing at what you do in my office. Contrary to what your ex believes, you got that promotion because you’re better at your job than Roger is sometimes.”
Joanna laughed. “Don’t tell Roger that. He is absolutely terrified of you. I have to help him sometimes because he’s afraid that you are going to fire him.”
“I said that he would be fired if he didn’t do his job right,” I said with a shrug. “That was over a year ago. He’s still afraid of me firing him?”
“Half your office is afraid of your foul moods. Your temper is pretty famous around there.”
“And you’re not afraid of me because of that?” I asked curiously. “Given what you’ve been through in the past few hours, you aren’t afraid of me at all?”
“Not at all,” Joanna said. “I’ve been with someone who has a temper. You don’t have a temper in my eyes. It’s more that you get frustrated when things aren’t going smoothly.”
I set my fork down along the side of my plate to look at Joanna. “I’m not that different from most men, you know. I just don’t hit women because I can’t deal with the stress of my job.”
“How do you deal with the stress of having the biggest management firm on the West Coast?” Joanna asked, cradling her glass of wine. Her own plate of food was pushed off to the side as she looked at me. “You have all this money, obviously. How do you deal with it all?”
The question made me shift uncomfortably in my seat. How could I answer that honestly without scaring Joanna away? I fucked women on the weekends the way I had been fucked over by Sierra. I drank a lot of alcohol when I didn’t have to be responsible the next morning. None of that made me seem to be the healthy man I had a feeling Joanna regarded me as. I had my own demons attached to my back, but I didn’t take them out on anyone. That was the difference. It just didn’t make me a better man.
“I deal with it the best I can,” I answered slowly. “I get to travel a lot, so that does help a bit.”
To my surprise, Joanna let out an undignified snort. She clapped a hand over her mouth and nose when I looked at her in surprise.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean to do that out loud. It came out
.”
“It sounds like you don’t believe me,” I said. “Was that a disbelieving type of snort?”
Joanna downed the rest of her wine in one steady gulp. I immediately reached for the bottle between us to pour her another glass before doing the same for myself.
“I’ve been your secretary for a while now,” she said. “I’m having a hard time believing that you of all people say traveling is the best way to deal with your stress levels. I know what you do outside the office.”
That piqued my interest. I leaned across the table, pushing away my plate in the process, to rest my elbows on the tabletop with my glass of wine in hand. I smiled in amusement when Joanna’s cheeks visibly reddened. The wine, I realized, was pulling out a side of Joanna that I never got to see inside the office. It was a pleasant experience to see a more carefree side to her—not the orderly and controlled one that she maintained in the office.
“How do you think I deal with my stress levels then?” I asked curiously. “I’m interested in hearing a few theories, because there are many of those going around the office.”
“Well, for one, everyone says that you love to drink when you don’t have to work the next day. A bit of a partier who likes to go to the clubs and—”
“Wrong,” I interrupted with a shake of my head. “I like alcohol, but I don’t go party. I don’t like clubs, either. They’re too loud.”
Joanna blinked at me as she sipped at her wine. “So you were acting out of character when going to that club on Friday night then?”
“Sort of,” I said.
I didn’t want to go into detail about only going because I needed someone to fuck hard that night but then how seeing Sid drag Joanna into the unmarked car like a rag doll had squashed my sex drive immediately. Until now. I could feel it roaring back to life with the temptation of Joanna enjoying a glass of wine across the table from me.
“You were there with that woman,” Joanna stated. “That’s another theory going around the office you know. A few people warned me about your reputation before I started working for you.”
