The Wolf (Billionaire Vikings Book 2)

by S. M. Maddox

  “Good job, Otis! This is the last one. Up high ok?” I tossed it up, and Otis and I both watched the French fry fly up in the air. As it came down, Otis jumped on his back legs, standing as tall as I am and smacking straight into a man who was running down the pier. The French fry bounced off Otis’ forehead and flew over the railing.

  “Ooooff!” Otis and the man both muttered at the same time. I made sure Otis was ok, which he was except for being a little heartbroken, before I looked at the man who had stumbled backwards against the bench. No. Fucking. Way.

  “What is that thing? An escaped hellhound?” Roland brushed the dirt and sand off the front of his black tank top. Otis glared at him through his cloudy eyes for ruining his last French fry.

  “That’s Otis. He’s a recused greyhound and he’s fabulous.” Otis protectively sat down beside my leg.

  “He looks a bit rough.”

  “Well, he’s had a hard life.” I looked off in the distance, wishing my boss was anyone else but the man I had fucked like I’d never fucked before. Literally. Things could always be worse I suppose.

  “Should I call you Jessie, or Ms. Malone?”

  “Should I call you Mr. Andersen, or Bartender?”

  “Touché. Listen, Ms. Malone,” he started before I stopped him.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were the one who owned it? And why were you a bartender in your own club?”

  “It didn’t come up. I’d never seen you before, in person anyway, and I didn’t think I’d see you again. I certainly didn’t think you’d be working for me. Brenda handles all of the day to day office duties. I didn’t even know you’d been hired until she introduced us. As far as bartending, a boss should never ask something of someone that he isn’t willing to do himself. Not only did I get expertly laid Tuesday night, I also gained brownie points from my staff seeing me in the trenches with them.” He winked at me, like the devil he is. I felt my insides starting to get all excited.

  “While we’re asking questions, why’d you apply? I can’t seem to figure out what your reason is. You’re obviously overqualified, and extremely, infinitely, more valuable to other fields besides my own. Why did you downgrade yourself?”

  “That’s my business, Mr. Andersen.”

  “Actually, you made it my business when you became my employee. What you do affects me.”

  “Well, it shouldn’t.”

  “Well, it does.”

  “And why is that, exactly? Why are you being nice to me? Is it pity? Are you pitying me? I don’t need your fucking pity. You have a horrible reputation for being an asshole. I heard how you talk to Tanya. You’re a jerk. You’re cruel and heartless and you just string her along for no reason, yet you’re all mushy gushy and polite with me. Because you saw my scar? Because you googled me? I don’t want your sympathy or anybody else’s!” I threw the last piece of funnel cake at him, showering his black shirt and shorts with white powdered sugar.

  “You want me to be an asshole to you? And her name is Tina. You want me to make you lock yourself in the bathroom and cry like Tina does?”

  “I already do that without your help, or was that part not included in your internet searches? I want you to treat me like everyone else!”

  “Not a problem, Ms. Malone. You’ve got exactly the rest of today to get over yourself. I expect you in the office and ready to go at 8:00 a.m. along with the rest of my staff. The next time, and every other time from here on out, that you call out, it will be documented and you will be held accountable for your actions. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Crystal.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning, then. And I’ll expect you to work through your lunch all this week to make up for the training you missed on Friday. That’s how I treat every. Other. Employee.”

  Don’t cry, Jessie. Don’t cry. Don’t mess up your plan.

  Roland turned and left us on the pier. I looked down at Otis, who looked up at me like “now what, Mom?”

  “I think we need to go home and take a nap.”

  We headed back to the car after stopping for a refill on fries for Otis. Besides me, French fries are his second favorite thing in the whole world, and I couldn’t live with myself knowing he didn’t get to have the last one. He had such a hard life before I adopted him. Whenever we go out I try to get him a little extra, extra treat because it just makes his whole day.

  We got back in our car and turned the radio on. I started to back up just as Otis tried and failed to pull the whole carton of fries out of the drink holder that I had installed in the ash tray. The whole contraption came crashing down, raining fries all over both sides of the floor boards. Otis gave me that sad puppy face like he was about to cry, just as a large booming jolted us forward.

  I looked in my rearview mirror, unsure of what had happened. There was a large, looming black Dodge Charger immediately in my rearview, so close it was practically in my backseat. I tried to drive back into my parking spot but June wasn’t moving. All I heard was metal scraping metal.

  I got out, shaking, to look at the damage to my car. The last thing I needed was another major bill until I got my income rolling in again. The back tires were bent at an angle unnatural to the original frame. I started crying hysterically just as the door to the Charger opened.

  Of course it was him. Of course it was. Why wouldn’t it be? He walked towards me, concern washed over his god-like face as I started crying uncontrollably.

  “Are you ok, Jessie?”

  “Nnnnooooooooooo!!!” I squealed through my tears in a high-pitched, unearthly voice. “Icannnaffordittttaaaaaaaaahhh!” I sobbed. I hated myself for crying in front of him for a second time. The last thing I needed was for Roland Andersen to think I was a weakling.

  “Well, it looks like that car’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Do you always back up at full speed?”

  I stopped crying to snort snot back up my nose and wipe my eyes. “I wassnngoingfullspeed!”

  “Relax, Malone. It’s not that bad, honestly. Probably just your axel is broken. The insurance will most likely consider it totaled and help you get a new one.”

  I started crying harder. “Idonnn’t. Have. Innsuranccceee.” I tried to take deep breaths. Car insurance was a luxury I couldn’t afford. I’d never had a wreck before, and I had never been pulled over. After the incident, my main source of income was the donations, which weren’t a fortune, but they were enough to get me by if I scaled back. Insurance on a car from 1970 wasn’t much money overall, but it was an unnecessary expenditure considering my life history. To the chopping block it went.

  “Jesus, Malone. You’re a hot mess. Go put the car in neutral.”

  “Whhhaaa?”

  “We can’t very well leave it in the middle of the parking lot can we? Put it in neutral and I’m going to push it back into place. Get your hellhound and all your belongings and I’ll take you home.”

  I obeyed him without arguing. What choice did I have? I got my purse and a Wal-Mart bag full of my random car valuables - sunglasses, car charms, discarded scarfs, gloves, car coasters, and coffee cups. I opened the Charger door for Otis to hop in before turning back to Roland.

  This is such a fucked-up situation. Here I am, wanting to screw my boss in broad daylight in a parking lot, who I just rear ended, because he’s helping me even though I specifically told him not to.

  Roland was leaned forward, the muscles on his entire body rippling and pulsing to move the car. The body this man had, oh my. I was seeing muscles and areas that I didn’t even know existed on other men. He was truly a work of art, and everything about him made me wet. When he was mean to me, when he was nice to me, when he was in a suit and tie, when he was in work out gear, and especially, especially, when he was naked underneath me.

  I had finally quit crying by the time he pushed my car back into place. His Charger barely had a scratch on it. Figurative for our relationship so far, right? I’m completely wrecked and he’s as cool as a cucumber.

  Rola
nd stood up, dusting the dirt off his hands. Car washes weren’t a luxury I could afford, either.

  My face was all puffy and my eyes were swollen. I knew I looked like I’d been stung by a thousand bees. I’d always been an ugly crier, and that wasn’t about to change anytime soon. I put my large sunglasses on to try and conceal my face.

  We silently got into his dark, domineering car and drove away. Neither of us spoke for the first five minutes.

  Finally, Roland sighed heavily, breaking the silence between us. “Do you want to talk about anything, Malone?”

  “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

  “You’re anything but fine, and I need caffeine.” He pulled off the road, headed towards a bistro at the front of a strip mall parking lot. “They’ve got outside tables, so your hellhound can join us.” Otis grumbled in the backseat.

  Roland purposely chose somewhere that would accommodate Otis? That was… touching. Don’t overthink anything, Jessie.

  “He’s not a hellhound, he’s a greyhound. Don’t talk bad about him. He’s had a hard life and his feelings get hurt easily.”

  “Did he tell you that?”

  “He didn’t have to. It’s written all over his face.”

  “Righty-o.”

  Roland chose a table with a large umbrella. I tied Otis’ leash to one of the metal chairs before sitting down. A waitress came over promptly, and Roland ordered a large black coffee and a cup of tap water with no ice. “Do you want anything, Malone?”

  “No, thank you.” I couldn’t afford ten-dollar coffee at the rate I was going.

  “She’ll have a Coke, a ham and cheese sandwich and a cream cheese Danish, please.”

  I looked at him, stunned. “What the fuck?”

  “Who doesn’t love ham and cheese sandwiches? If you don’t want it, I’ll eat it. Or your dog will. And if you don’t love cream cheese Danishes then you’re not fit to be in my company, anyway. It’s better I know now so it’s easier to be mean to you later. Like garlic for vampires.”

  I laughed, and a snort came out. Horrendous.

  Roland smiled his sexy, wicked smile that made my knees weak. I would’ve fallen over if we hadn’t already been sitting down. “Ah, there she is. Fun Malone.”

  “Is that Post’s sister?”

  Roland grinned. “Good one. I bet you’ve waited your whole life to make that joke, huh?”

  “No, only since he got famous.”

  The waitress brought the food and coffee. I watched Roland as he took the lid off of the tap water and set it down for Otis, who promptly stuck his tongue in it and started drinking. This man.

  I bit into the ham and cheese sandwich. It really was delicious, and I was secretly thankful to Roland for ordering it. My ramen supply was bare bones, and I hadn’t had any real food since the club. Since the last time Roland was watching out for me. Stop it, Jessie. He’s just more trouble you don’t need.

  Roland watched me with a conquering delight in his eyes. He wasn’t used to being wrong. He even relished in his infinite knowledge of the universe. I handed a scrap of crust to Otis, who gobbled it up immediately.

  “What’re you going to do? What’s your plan?” Roland questioned, his eyes slightly squinted. He doesn’t know all my secrets.

  “I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to call a taxi or an Uber, but I’ll be at work. Don’t worry about that. If I have to, I can walk.”

  “You won’t walk, and I didn’t mean your car. I meant you. What are you doing in my office?”

  “Well, I think my official title is legal researcher. So, I’m researching. I’m going to research for you and help you win your cases. I’m a damn good dirt digger.”

  “I have no doubts about that. Why did you sell yourself short and downgrade?”

  “I told you already. I needed a fresh start.”

  When Roland dropped me off at my house, he didn’t walk to me to my door like a gentlemen. Thank goodness, because I would’ve pulled him inside and jumped his bones if he’d had.

  Instead, he stayed in his car, a safe distance from me. He rolled down the passenger side window as I shut the door.

  “See you tomorrow, Malone.”

  “See you tomorrow, Andersen.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jessie

  At 7:15 the next morning, my doorbell rang. Otis and I exchanged glances. I had just called the local taxi service and told them to be at outside at 7:40, and taxis aren’t in a habit of ringing doorbells.

  Someone knocked three times, loudly. I felt my heartbeat quicken. Could they have found me so soon?

  “Malone! Wake up!”

  I marched to the door and threw it open, taking a step backward at the sight of Roland. The sex appeal of that man was just something I wasn’t accustomed to. All six and whatever feet of him, nearly as tall and as wide as my door, was standing there in the sharpest, sexiest, most expensive charcoal gray suit I could imagine.

  Actually, back up. No matter what he was dressed in, every time I’d seen him he looked like one of my wet dreams. A different episode of the same fantasy each day. He was built to impress, and I decided right then that there was probably nothing he could wear that wouldn’t look damn fine on his chiseled ass. I bet he’d even make a toga horny.

  He looked me up and down slowly. I’d chosen my red dress for my first day, to start over with a bang. I was still barefoot, holding my heels in my hand.

  “Damn, Malone.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment. What’re you doing here?”

  “Obviously I’m picking you up for work. I’ve got to be in court in an hour, and I’d appreciate it if you could put your shoes on and hurry the hell up.”

  “I want you to treat me like everyone else. That includes not shuttling me around.”

  “Everyone else doesn’t have the audacity to back into my car. Now, move your ass.”

  Otis ran to the door upon hearing Roland’s voice. Roland leaned down to pet him, and Otis licked his hand. “I’ll see you in the car in five minutes.”

  I closed the door behind him. Otis wagged his tail. “You traitor. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

  Brenda showed me around the office and introduced me to everyone. My desk was in a nice little cozy corner by a window.

  “Now, if you want to get here early or stay late you absolutely can. Just make sure you punch the clock. Mr. Andersen doesn’t worry much about overtime unless someone is taking advantage and riding the clock on purpose, but I don’t imagine having those kinds of issues with you. We’ve got a security guard 24/7. If you ever do stay over, just make sure you check in and out with him. He’s got a current employee list. No one goes in or out outside business hours without his approval.”

  I didn’t see Roland all day after he dropped me off at the office, which was pleasant. Maybe it can always be like that. I planned on ignoring him completely unless absolutely necessary. I didn’t want any distractions.

  I’ll beat him at his own game. I did not take a lunch on my first day and I worked an hour over. I wanted him to treat me like everyone else, until I earned his respect to be treated as an equal.

  At 6 p.m., I picked up my phone to dial the taxi service. I turned all the lights off, and headed to the elevator. Just as the doors were almost closed, a leather briefcase popped through and wedged them back open. Roland stepped into the elevator, on the opposite side of the claustrophobic box.

  The electricity in the air was undeniable. I didn’t let myself look at him as I focused with laser intensity on the elevator buttons. I knew if I glanced at him, my mind would betray me. My panties were soaking because my body already had. I shifted from foot to foot, rolling my ankles and trying to distract myself anyway I possibly could.

  I glanced at the golden brass wall beside me, which housed his blurry reflection. Even in the muddled surface, I could see that he was staring directly at me. Ooohh.

  I felt my nipples harden as I thought about the way his mouth had looked around them. The
way his eyes rolled back as I rode him…

  The elevator dinged open. “Thank god,” I whispered under my breath as I bolted through the doors as fast as I could. I heard Roland snickering behind me. I checked out with the guard and then headed outside to the taxi. I was only a few feet away from reaching it, when the driver nodded to someone behind me and drove away.

  “Hey! Wait!” I spun around. Roland was standing behind me, watching.

  “You don’t need a taxi, Malone. My employees don’t take taxis. Ever. It looks bad.”

  “I don’t have a choice at the moment.”

  “No, you don’t have a choice. Get in the car.”

  I didn’t talk to him the whole ride home. If I had wanted to talk to him, where would I start? I wanted to slap him and tie him up and beat him and fuck him and I couldn’t do any of those things to my boss. My boss.

  When we got to my house, there was a silver Toyota RAV4 parked outside. Not new, and not old. CT license plate, but I didn’t know anyone who drove a RAV4.

  “Stop, Roland. Someone’s at my house. I don’t know that car.”

  “You don’t yet, but you will.” He reached across my lap and into the glove box and pulled out a set of keys. “I called in a favor. It’s yours now. The paper work will be on your desk by tomorrow afternoon. With insurance.”

  My mouth fell open. “I can’t afford this.”

  “I didn’t ask if you could afford it. You don’t have to worry, it’s taken care of. Orville has a big back seat to ride in now.”

  “Otis.”

  “Whatever. Before you go all batshit on me, yes, I would’ve done this for any of my employees. I take care of my business and my people. If they need something, I provide it. I don’t want anyone in my office feeling stressed out about monetary things, ever. Don’t be afraid to ask for help, Malone. Or to accept it when it’s handed to you.”