by Ella Miles
She puts her hand on mine. “The company is running well. Just try to relax. I’ll see you soon, Brody.” She removes her hand, turns, and walks out.
I blink rapidly, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened when another knock rattles against my door, but this time, the person doesn’t wait for me to answer. Noah just strides in.
“Hey, boss,” he says in his usual chipper self.
“What, Noah?” I want to yell at him for Angela, but that would mean more of my time was wasted.
He grins, folding his arms across his chest while he sits on the edge of my desk. “You fucked up the numbers again,” he says.
I frown. “No, I didn’t. That’s not possible. I checked them three separate times.”
He shakes his head and throws some papers on my desk.
I narrow my eyes as I pick up the stack of papers and stare at the numbers. I do the math in my head and can already tell that I’m way off. Damn it.
I throw them down in frustration, watching as they scatter everywhere.
Noah smirks and folds his arms across his chest like he’s the shit and I’m an idiot. Even though he wouldn’t have a job if it wasn’t for me busting my balls every damn day for this company.
“Now, will you listen to me?” he asks, but it isn’t meant to be a question.
“Why? I fucked up. It won’t happen again.”
He shakes his head. “Except it’s happened almost every day since we got back from the Bahamas. That woman still has your dick obsessed with her.”
“So what if she does? I don’t use my dick to get work done.”
He laughs. “You might as well. Your dick might do a better job than what you are currently doing.”
I get up from my desk and walk over to the small window that stares out into Detroit below. I lean against the wall, looking out at the people walking around below.
“You need to do something about this. You need to get her out of your system, so you can focus on what’s really important. The launch. We are launching our second video game in less than three weeks. We’ve done the unthinkable, raising billions of dollars when we have no money ourselves. We don’t even pay ourselves enough to live off of. But, if we get this right, then the world will take us seriously, and we can actually start paying ourselves.”
I nod. I know he’s right. Although I don’t care about money. I have a condo my uncle gave to me when he died. And what money I do earn, I spend on fast cars. I don’t need anything else to keep me happy. What else could money buy me that I don’t already have? I just enjoy creating. Working hard. That’s what’s in it for me.
“What do you suggest I do about it?”
He grins. “Fuck her.”
I narrow my stare at him. “She lives hundreds of miles away from here in Albuquerque. I live in Detroit. It’s not exactly easy for me to just go fuck her and then come back to work.”
“I think it would be worth the weekend trip. But, if you don’t think you can take the time off, I know an assistant who would be more than willing to help you out.”
I cringe at that thought. “Really? She’s barely twenty.”
“So? I’m not telling you to fuck her for her brain or maturity. You haven’t fucked anyone since Skye. You need to move on, get out there again.”
“Get out of my office, and get back to work,” I snap, done with this conversation.
Noah grins and walks out of my office without a word.
I’ll decide when I fuck a woman and who she will be. Right now, I don’t need the distraction. I’ll just increase the difficulty of my workout tonight. That will get whatever this is that I’m feeling out of my system so that I can focus.
I open the door to my condo. It’s late, as it always is when I get home from work. About a quarter after ten. Sometimes, I wonder why I don’t just create an apartment for myself at the office. That way, I don’t ever have to leave. I can spend every second being productive.
I walk toward the kitchen, not bothering to flick on the lights. I like it dark. I need to eat, exercise, and pass out. I don’t need light for any of it.
I throw the fridge open to pull out the premade meals that I prepare myself once a week, so then I don’t have to think about food the rest of the week when I see a shadow move.
I sigh as I pull out my container of food. I walk the three feet to the microwave, pop in the food, and hit the button for it to start.
“What are you doing here?” I ask without turning around. I don’t want to look at her. I don’t want to talk to her. I don’t want her here.
“Noah said you needed some help with relaxing tonight,” Angela says, walking up behind me and rubbing my shoulders.
I tense instead of relaxing.
The microwave finishes, and I pull my dinner out and walk over to the bar where there is only one barstool. I take a seat, ignoring her. I begin eating my grilled chicken and steamed vegetables.
She tries to push her body onto my lap, but I don’t let her. I just keep eating like I always do by myself.
I’m going to kill Noah. He should know better than to think he can have any control over my life.
“You need to go,” I say sternly, still not looking at her.
“I don’t think that’s what you really want.”
I frown and finally look at her. “You have no idea what I want.”
She bites her fingernail and looks at me as she cocks her head, like by studying me, she is going to figure out what I want.
“Maybe not, but I know what all men want.” She reaches around and pulls on the tie holding her wrap dress closed. The dress falls open, and then she shrugs her shoulders as the dress falls to the floor.
My eyes burn into her black lace bra and thong underwear. She has a gorgeous body. And she’s right; I’m a man in need of fucking a woman’s brains out. The only reason I’m fighting it at all is that I hate when Noah is right. It will only empower him to pull shit like this again.
“Wait for me in my bedroom, down the hallway to the right.”
She smiles.
“And, if you tell Noah about this, you’re fired.”
9
Skye
My hands continue to do compressions over the small puppy’s chest. I’m exhausted. I’ve been trying to save this puppy for three hours now.
Most vets would have given up a long time ago. He was hit by a car, and most of the bones in his body are broken. He has internal bleeding that I know I can’t stop. And he’s been touch and go since he arrived.
But he’s a fighter, and I won’t give up on him. So, I keep doing compressions, trying to convince his heart to keep beating.
“Skye,” Alicia, my vet technician, says in a stern voice.
I keep pumping my arms over the puppy’s small chest.
“Skye, it’s time,” she says, placing her hand on my shoulder.
I know she’s right. That he’s already gone. But, for some reason, it’s harder for me to give up on the strays than the ones who have an owner. At least the ones with an owner had a good life. They were loved.
This puppy grew up alone. He’s barely eight months, and if the car accident hadn’t taken his life, starvation most likely would have.
“Time of death: six thirty-three,” I say, stopping the compressions.
I stroke his head. This is the hardest part of the job—when I can’t save them. This is what I was put on this earth to do, and when I fail, I’m lost.
“You should go home. You weren’t even supposed to be on duty today,” Alicia says.
I nod. I’ll go. I’m too exhausted to be of any use here.
I walk like a zombie to my office to collect my things, and then I start walking the half-mile down the road to the small farmhouse that I call home.
Usually, I like the walk. It gives me time to clear my head before I’m greeted by my herd of animals. But not today. Today, I don’t want to think. Today is hard.
My thoughts go back to the beach. To Brody, as the
y often have these last couple of months since I returned from my vacation. And I feel the familiar feeling of anger take over. It’s easy than the pain I feel when I think about the puppy that I couldn’t save. A puppy that didn’t even have a name.
I open the door to my small farmhouse and am greeted by my four mutt dogs. “Hey, Sherbet, Grumpy, Ernie, and Lady,” I say, greeting each dog.
I try to smile, but I just can’t today. Even Ernie’s infectious grin isn’t enough to warm my heart. Not today.
I walk the few feet to the back door and open the door to let them out into the backyard. I might be exhausted, but my day doesn’t end when I come home. I have three horses, two cows, six chickens, three pigs, a rooster, four dogs, and three cats that rely on me. So, I follow the dogs out into the yard and get to work. Thankful to have something to keep my mind occupied instead of my lonely thoughts.
The sun is setting fast by the time I’m about finished feeding and giving the animals the attention they need. I start walking back up the field toward the house to make myself something to eat with the dogs fast on my heels, excited that it’s time for them to get fed as well.
I sense him before I see him. My body is used to being alert for when I feel danger nearby.
“You’re not welcome here,” I say, grabbing on to Grumpy and giving the rest of the dogs a look to stay by me.
They all do, sitting carefully next to me as they intently stare at the stranger.
Brody is standing just outside the fence on my property. His face is clean-shaven, and his hair is shorter than the last time I saw him. In a dark suit, he’s very out of place here.
“I just want to talk. Can I take you to a late dinner or to get a drink or something?”
“No,” I say as I continue to hold on to Grumpy, the only dog I have that isn’t fully trained yet. My negative energy transfers through my body to his, the longer I hold him, getting him even more worked up as he fights to try to get to the intruder.
Brody looks down at the dog I’m holding on to. “He friendly?” he asks as he puts his hand on the gate.
“No, he’s not friendly. Especially toward men he feels are intruders.” I let him jump forward a little bit in my hands as I continue to hold on to him. He growls fiercely, making Brody hesitate.
Brody frowns. “What would it take to get you to talk to me?”
I laugh deviously. “There is nothing you could do to get me to talk to you.”
“I hurt you that bad, huh?”
“No, I just don’t give a shit about you. You aren’t even supposed to be here. You were supposed to be out of my life after the week, remember?”
“I didn’t get my last fuck in.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Yours.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Seriously? It wasn’t my fault. It was yours! You were the one who said you would come to the airport and didn’t. It seems you got your last fuck in just fine, just not with me.”
He grins. “So, you do care.”
“No,” I lie.
“You were the one who went running home to Gabe. You were the one who cut our time short.” He looks at the dogs. “So, which one is Gabe anyway?”
My eyes darken. He thinks Gabe is one of my animals. Now, it’s my turn to hurt him.
“This is Grumpy. That’s Ernie, Sherbet, and Lady.”
He frowns. “So, Gabe is a cat.”
“Tommy, Jordan, and Ruffus.”
“A horse?”
“Blondie, Pumpkin, and Sandy.”
“The other animals?”
I smile. “Nope.”
He runs his hand through his short hair before rubbing his neck. “You aren’t going to tell me who Gabe is, are you?”
“Not likely, no. I like that you have too many thoughts going through your head right now as you try to figure it out. And it’s driving you crazy.”
He smirks. “It’s not driving me crazy. Not having your mouth sucking my cock—that is what is driving me crazy. I just want to know who Gabe is, so I know when to duck when he takes a swing at me.”
“That’s not happening.”
“Which part? Because I guarantee that your lips are going to be wrapped around my dick by the end of the night.”
I shake my head. “You’re still so cocky, aren’t you? We are done. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“You sure about that? Because your body is telling me differently.”
I glare at him. “We are done.”
He reaches for the gate and opens it, thinking now is his opportunity to walk inside and catch me off guard. I’m sure he thinks, if he can get close enough where I can smell his cologne again, close enough that I can see his charming dimples, close enough that I can hear his beating heart, then I’ll change my mind. I’ll just fall back into his arms again, just like we were back on the beach in our fantasy world. That bubble burst the second he sent me the text message with the big-tits woman.
“Don’t take another step forward!” I shout.
He doesn’t listen. I release Grumpy and release the rest of the dogs with a look. I just wish, for once, they were actually capable of attacking a man when I needed them to. Instead, they run over and attack him all right. Just with kisses and hugs and tail wags.
But it gets the job done. He can’t move, and I take the opportunity to run inside. I slam the door shut and lock it tightly behind me as I lean against the door. Can this day get any worse?
10
Brody
God, how I’ve missed her.
I’ve missed her sass.
I’ve missed her wit.
I’ve missed her charm.
Her smile, body, intelligence, fierceness. Everything. I’ve missed everything.
Except, now, she hates my guts. I knew sending her that text message would bite me in the ass one day.
I look down at the dogs that are jumping all over me. Slobbering and getting hair all over my suit. I’m not a dog person or an animal person of any kind really. I could be, I guess. But I’ve never spent any time with them or thought I needed to have an animal in my life. I prefer my alone time in peace rather than having to take care of another living thing.
So, I have no idea how to get them to stop. I slowly back up toward the gate and manage to wiggle out without letting the beasts loose.
I take a deep breath as I walk back to the car I rented and move on to plan B. She clearly isn’t happy to see me, but I do know her weaknesses, what she won’t turn down.
I open the back door and pull out the bottle of tequila and Chinese takeout. I put on my most charming grin as I walk back to her front door and knock loudly.
I wait, knowing that she’s going to be stubborn and not want to open the door. But a few minutes pass, and she slowly relents, coming to the door.
“I brought food and tequila because I’m sure you don’t have any food in the house,” I say even though I don’t know if that’s true. I just know that she cares about her animals more than she does herself. That’s clear from where I sat in my car, watching her before I got out.
I stare at her more closely, getting a good look at the changes since the last time I saw her months ago. Her hair is pulled back, but it no longer has the blue streaks that ran through her hair before. Her hair is no longer jet-black either; it’s more a medium brown. Most of her piercings are no longer covering her face. The tattoos are hidden by her long sleeves underneath her scrubs even though it’s the middle of summer.
Her eyes are what give me the most concern though. People change their appearance. Maybe she was going through a rebel phase that she’s trying to get past now. But her eyes are expelling a sadness that I’ve never seen before. Maybe this is the same sadness that she was running from on vacation. Whatever is in her eyes is what she needed me to fuck away and make her forget. Now that I’m gone, the reality of that pain is back.
She opens the door just a little and snatches the food and alcohol out of my hand. Then, she slams
the door in my face before I have a chance to push my way inside. Not that I would. I like control, but I would never make her feel unsafe.
I sigh. On to plan C. I walk back to my car and drive the half-mile back to the clinic where my new favorite vet tech, Alicia, is.
“No luck, huh?” she asks when I step back inside.
“Nope, but I have a plan C. And, if that doesn’t work, I’ll try plan D and so on.”
She smiles. “And you want my help?”
I nod.
“I shouldn’t help you, but Skye doesn’t need to be alone tonight. She could use some company even if it’s bad company.”
I frown. “I’m not bad company.”
“Skye told me what you did in the Bahamas.”
“Fine. I’m not the best. But I do know I’m a good distraction, and it seems Skye is in need of a distraction.” I bat my eyes at her while saying, “Please.”
“If you bring her a sick animal to take care of, she will let you in.”
I grin. “That was exactly what I was thinking.”
“Hold on,” she says, disappearing into the back room and then reappearing with a cardboard box with small holes cut out on the top.
I take the box from her and open the lid. I jump back, dropping the box.
She does a full-belly laugh, grabbing her stomach as she walks over and picks up the box that I just dropped.
“Is this a joke? Did you and Skye plan this to get back at me?” I ask, my voice much higher than usual.
Alicia continues to laugh as she walks the box back over to me. “No, it’s not a joke. The snake needs medical attention.”
I frown. “I’m not a big fan of snakes.”
“I would have never guessed that,” she snarks.
“Why can’t I bring a puppy or kitten or something that needs her help?”
“One, because most of our puppies and kittens need more medical help than what she can provide at her house. And, two, because I’m still not a huge fan of yours, and I want to make you suffer as much as possible. Consider it my own personal test to see if you are worthy of hanging out with my friend.” She holds the box out to me. “Now, do you want to see Skye tonight or not?”
