From the Top

by Roxanne Smith

  Grant hailed a cab. Once they were folded inside, silence reigned, but it was a comfortable span of quiet that held the subtle hint of promise. They weren’t sure where they were going, and Seraphina didn’t seem to mind the mystery any more than he did. He grinned and caught his reflection in the car window, surprised at himself. He looked…different.

  He instructed the driver to take them to a well-known area of downtown, where the best food trucks congregated, vying for the attention of evening strollers and the bar-hopping crowd. Even on week nights, downtown Little Rock had plenty going on. They were let out on a busy corner under a yellow streetlamp. Grant surreptitiously took possession of Seraphina’s hand as they walked through a jumble of eight or nine loud college students as they poured out of a sports bar. The red and blue neon signs in the window reflected onto Seraphina’s red dress until she glowed purple, like something out of a comic book.

  Finally, the next block down, Grant found his quarry. Like the maître d’ at Rosa Rita’s, he held his arm aloft and bowed slightly, keeping his face perfectly straight. “Madame, I give you El Taco Loco, and the absolute height of Tex-Mex delicacy. At least as good as you can hope to get in Arkansas, anyway.”

  To his delight, Seraphina laughed. Loud at first, then she covered her mouth and looked contrite. “I never imagined in a million years you’d be funny,” she confessed.

  The apology in her voice made him smile, and he nodded. “I’m not. Not usually. Not out loud.”

  Her smile faded, but her gaze became understanding. “So, what would you recommend?”

  Together, they perused the menu next to a line of people. Two couples who appeared older and one scraggly kid, way too young for the bar circuit, waited ahead of them. Grant pointed at the hand-painted sign displaying their choices. “The loaded smothered burrito. It’s a steak and fried potato burrito smothered in sour cream sauce, chives, bacon, and cheddar. It’s amazing. I never eat it in public, though, because I always need a bath afterward. Very messy. I have an image to maintain, after all. The goat cheese nachos are pretty incredible, too, and not a bad substitution if you’re not up to ruining your dress.”

  As slowly as the rising sun, and nearly as majestic, an ominously mischievous smile took over Seraphina’s mouth. For a moment, he stared, caught by her beauty. “I dare you.”

  He placed his hand on his chest. “I’m sorry, you dare me? Do I strike you as the type to play it safe?”

  Her grin widened. “I know people who think I’m insane to want to work for you. You’re a scary guy. But I really want to try the burrito, and I’m not going in alone. So, yeah. I dare you.”

  Part of him was tempted to balk just because she was forcing his hand. Another small part of him was pleased to know his reputation still worked for him. And yet another part didn’t give a damn about any of that, because Seraphina was probably the first woman he’d met in the last decade who wasn’t all that impressed with him. His silence was intimidating, his forthrightness a turn off. He was her boss. He was Grant Gallagher, who regularly terrified veteran designers and interns alike. And she dared him to eat a messy burrito in a three-hundred-dollar suit.

  “You’re on,” he said, showing all his teeth in his smile. “But I’ve got one for you.”

  She placed her hands on her hips. It was outrageously sexy, but she didn’t seem to realize the striking figure she produced—hip jutted, fingers curled over the fabric, and her back slightly arched. His mouth went dry. She was too bent on copping a daring attitude, narrowing her eyes and trying to fight off the big grin on her face to notice. “I’m not scared of you.”

  He laughed. “So I’ve noticed.” He pointed behind her, waited while she turned, read the sign, and looked back at him with wide eyes.

  She hooked her thumb over her shoulder, toward the flashing sign inside the bar window behind them, and stared at Grant incredulously. “You want to go dancing after we wreck our clothes with sloppy burritos?”

  “Smothered, not sloppy. And yeah. Why not? Maybe there’s something in the air, but I’m having a good time.” He shrugged. A small pill of awkwardness began to form in his gut at trying to put what he felt into words. He glanced at his shoes. Maybe he was just crazy. “Ah, you’re probably right. We have work in the morning. Probably just let the wine go to my head. I had a glass before you—”

  “Okay.”

  He met her eyes. “Okay? Okay, yes, or okay, we have to work—”

  “You already asked me. You can’t change your mind now. You’re at the whim of my answer. And yeah. Okay. Yes. Let’s do it.”

  They shuffled forward as the line to the taco truck moved. “For the record, I didn’t change my mind. I was being a gentleman, giving you an easy out.”

  She met his eyes. Her gaze was almost solemn, completely at odds with the giddy sense of anticipation between them. “Maybe I don’t want out.” She blinked, and the levity returned to her vibrant blue eyes. “At least not until you buy me dinner.”

  Feeling very much like he was walking out onto a shaky limb, Grant caught Seraphina’s fingers with his own. She didn’t acknowledge his touch, but she didn’t pull away, either. “I should’ve guessed you were only in it for the burrito.”

  * * * *

  Before Seraphina could come up with a suitably entertaining reply, the couple who’d just received their food from the truck’s next window breezed past. The man accidently jostled Seraphina’s shoulder. Their gazes caught, and Seraphina’s breath hitched.

  “Seraphina, hey. Hi. How are you?”

  “Brendan Berkley,” she replied coolly. “Fine. You?”

  She was ignored as Brendan recognized Grant. “Oh, hi. Um, wow. Sir. Grant. Mr. Sorry, Mr. Gallagher.” He gave a short laugh and cleared his throat. “So weird, running into to you. This is Maria, my date.” The woman beside him smiled wanly, seemingly unimpressed with running into Brendan’s friends. Seraphina remembered the dress she was wearing and didn’t blame Maria for her cool greeting. Brendan cleared his throat again. “It was nice to, uh, see you…Mr. Gallagher.”

  Grant raised an eyebrow at Brendan, exuding both curiosity and a certain unspoken assessment. Seraphina was caught off guard by the jolt of attraction she felt. He exuded such a quiet power. He said everything while saying nothing at all, and when he did deign to speak, he never wasted a word, so she found she hung onto every one.

  “We look forward to seeing you at the office Monday, Brendan.” Grant’s voice held the clear note of dismissal. Polite, but an unmistakable end to the impromptu gathering.

  Brendan looked relieved, and nodded another acknowledgment at Seraphina. “Have a good evening.”

  “Whoa. Wait. What?” She snapped out of it when she realized Grant seemed to know Brendan, as well. It was one thing for someone in the design industry to recognize Grant. He was as well-known as Neve Harper, and both had reputations all around the state. They were homegrown celebrities, in their worlds, no different from locally celebrated chefs or authors.

  Brendan and his date waved and took off into the night, Seraphina gaping after them like an idiot. She turned to Grant. “I’m sorry, did you say we’d see him Monday at the office? Why would Brendan Berkley be coming to the office on Monday?”

  Grant’s brow gathered. “I’d forgotten the two of you worked together briefly.”

  “We passed in the hallways of Free Leaf Concepts once or twice. I wouldn’t call it working together.” Not by a long shot. And besides, Brendan Berkley had been far more than a high-level assistant. “Look, I know you’re aware of the arrests made at Free Leaf. The receptionist and the manager of their greenhouses were growing illegal genetically altered magic mushrooms. Brendan was a person of interest in the case. He was questioned—”

  “Twice,” Grant easily supplied. “I know. But he was never arrested, let alone tried and convicted. Annie is retiring next year, and Brendan has the best
résumé I’ve seen. I can’t judge him by what almost happened, Seraphina. Would you expect me to?”

  She bit her lip and peered down the vaguely lit sidewalk at Brendan and his date’s retreating forms. They were shadows in the distance now. “I suppose not. It’s just that I was there. And I know Oliver Pierce personally. Oliver was the undercover agent who brought down the whole arm operating inside Free Leaf Concepts. With Kay’s help, of course. Both of them are certain Brendan got away with something. They just can’t prove it.”

  Grant looked down at her with a wry, knowing smile. He tugged her forward, as the line moved again. “I do stay abreast of the local news. As well as those things that don’t make headlines in the paper. And I’m well aware Oliver Pierce overstepped and can no longer investigate Brendan. In fact, I hear he’s been removed from the case altogether.”

  Kind of… Seraphina glanced away so Grant couldn’t read her expression. Oliver, now Kay’s boyfriend, had moved, but not to another case. Oliver was merely working a different angle. One most likely to keep him as far from Brendan Berkley as possible. But he definitely hadn’t given up on nailing the guy down once and for all.

  “It’s true,” she admitted. “Oliver got a little carried away. Kay tried to warn him, but…well, he’s got amazing instincts. All he needed was something concrete to take to a judge. He didn’t break any laws, but it doesn’t take much for a civilian to claim harassment after so much time passes without any new evidence coming to light. Either Oliver is way off, which isn’t likely, or Brendan is playing a very deep game.”

  Grant was silent. He approached the truck, gave their orders to a happy-go-lucky guy behind the counter, and moved on to wait for their burritos to come through the next window. While they waited, he retook possession of her hand.

  It was something she might’ve expected from a boy at a junior high dance, the tentative mingling of their fingers. Not exactly holding hands, but compelled to have contact, to touch. Her skin warmed at the small connection, even as her mind struggled to wrangle her feelings into tangible terms she could understand. Something really was in the air tonight.

  Grant received their food, handing one laden container to Seraphina. The burrito was huge. Like a swaddled baby.

  “Jeez,” she breathed. “It’s a monster.”

  “I should’ve warned you.” He shrugged, then used his spork to scoop a huge bite of the topping—sauce, bacon, chives, and cheddar—into his mouth. He grinned at her, his cheeks full. “S’good.”

  She laughed and balanced her container carefully in her hands. “We need a table.”

  Grant shook his head and sat on the curb behind the truck. “As long as the taco truck driver doesn’t reverse, we’re safe.”

  Seraphina looked from the pavement to her dress and back again. She thanked the stars she had a spectacular dry cleaner and sat next to Grant. Their shoulders and knees knocked companionably while they ate. Seraphina experienced a small thrill each time. There was ease between them that made the contact seem intimate and loaded with potential.

  When was the last time she’d felt sparks like this? High school? Her first date, with all the forbidden touches, so new and exciting and exhilarating. She knew indulging with Grant Gallagher like this was a bad idea. A train wreck waiting to happen. But at the same time, she didn’t have it in herself to deny them both the pleasure. It was odd and so obviously unwise, but it felt…amazing, if she were honest. Amazing, and liberating, and electrifying. She didn’t know where the hell they were going, but she wasn’t jumping off the ride until they hit the end of the line.

  She hated to ruin the moment, but she couldn’t let go. “You’re sure about Brendan? You’re not worried? You know, in case Oliver Pierce is right about him. Could bring trouble down on the firm.”

  She didn’t miss the slightly impatient gleam in Grant’s gaze. He clearly didn’t want to talk about Brendan Berkley anymore. “If anything, I imagine doing Annie’s job will keep him too busy to cause trouble, should that be on his agenda. The truth is Annie does a fraction of what her job should require from her. I’ll miss her, but I look forward to having someone who can keep up with the demands of the position.” He paused a beat. “And who might update that awful waiting area.”

  Seraphina laughed out loud, then covered her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I wondered why it was so outdated. It’s so unexpected. You keep it that way for Annie’s sake?”

  Grant sighed and eyed his burrito. “This spork just isn’t up to the task, you know it?” He aimed, tossed, and the utensil sailed unerringly into a nearby trashcan. He grinned. “I played point in college.”

  He was certainly tall enough to have been a basketball star. He picked up the massive burrito. Seraphina cringed and snorted at the same time as sauce ran over his fingers, then watched with wide eyes while he quickly licked his thumb. It wasn’t just men who fixated on women’s mouths. Watching a man do things with his lips and tongue could be just as much fun.

  Seraphina inhaled and eyed the giant burrito in her lap. In for a penny, in for a pound. She grimaced and laughed as sauce oozed over her fingers. She took a dainty bite, ended up with nothing but tortilla, and went back again. This time she came away with a mouthful of perfectly tender steak that dripped juices down her chin. She squealed and leaned over her container so she wouldn’t drip on her dress.

  “Wow. That’s just tasty,” she said, with feeling, once she swallowed.

  He wasn’t much better off. He’d given up trying to eat it in one piece, and tore pieces apart with his fingers, using the tortilla shreds to swipe up the meat and potatoes, then running through a pile of toppings before popping the big bite into his mouth.

  She realized she was watching him, but he was fascinating to watch. So together. Fastidious, controlled, and careful. But he ate with a man’s single-mindedness, taking huge bites and occasionally grunting his appreciation.

  When he’d eaten all he could, leaving only a few corners of tortilla behind, he grabbed extra napkins from the guy inside the taco truck and wiped his hands while Seraphina kept picking at hers, and rejoined her. “Annie is my mother’s old friend,” he said suddenly. “When I first started out, she came to work for me, accepting the paltry amount I could afford to pay her back then. Mostly, just to be helpful. When I moved the business into the building I’m in now, I gave Annie free rein. I let her choose the furniture, the finishes, and the décor. Money isn’t always the best way to show gratitude.”

  “And you certainly couldn’t replace her,” Seraphina said around a chunk of potato. They’d been delicate and crunchy, but were turning to mush from the sauce. Delicious, delicious mush.

  “God, no. I wouldn’t want to. I owe Kathleen. She took me in as a kid.”

  Seraphina paused in licking her fingers. “You’re adopted?”

  Grant’s gaze was ponderous as it roamed over her face, as if gauging what he wanted to tell her. “I barely remember my dad, and don’t know anything at all about my mom.”

  Seraphina blinked. For a minute, she considered their eyes, so strikingly similar. Shit. Was it possible? Because that would be weird as hell. “I didn’t know my mom, either.” She swallowed. “You don’t suppose…”

  Grant’s eyes opened wide, and he burst into laughter. His wrists rested on his knees, and he shook his head. “No, no. I don’t think we have to worry about that. You born and raised here?”

  Seraphina nodded, wiped her hands one last time, and pushed away the remainder of her burrito. If she didn’t stop now, she’d bust a seam on her dress.

  Grant smiled at her. “I was born in New York City. Kathleen moved us here a little while after she realized my dad wasn’t coming back for me. She had a few cousins she’d lost touch with, and it seemed Little Rock was a better place to raise a boy like me.”

  “I sense there’s a story there.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”
He stood and brushed off his slacks as best he could. Then, he offered Seraphina his hand, and helped her stand. “Another time. For now, I’d desperately like to recapture the vibe we had going before Brendan Berkley showed up out of nowhere and put a sour taste in our mouths.”

  “Oh?” She brushed off her dress, especially around her bottom, where she’d been sitting on the pavement, careful to make sure there was no grime or cigarette butts clinging to the lace fabric. “I admit, I haven’t met many men who like to dance. Consider me officially intrigued.”

  “Oh, I’m a terrible dancer. Don’t set your expectations too high.” He was looking down at her, a pensive expression on his face and a smile in his eyes. Quickly, as if on a dare, he lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers.

  Warmth spread out from her belly, into every limb until her whole body buzzed. She opened her mouth and moved her tongue along his in a lazy glide. She snuck a peek at Grant to find his eyes already wide open and watching her. She pulled away and grinned. “I’m good enough for both of us.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him after her, toward the lights and the music and the glimmering promise of the night.

  Chapter 5

  Seraphina stifled a giggle as she tittered out of the elevator after Grant. He waited just outside the doors to offer his arm. “Did you see how that woman looked at me? Do you know her?”

  “She looked terrified. You’re not quite steady on those towering heels. But even without the shoes, the dress makes a hell of an impression.”

  “Want to see if you can do better after…well, after more than a couple of beers. I lost count somewhere in between ‘Gimme Three Steps’ and ‘Mary Jane’s Last Dance.’”