"I called the number from your résumé three times."
I dig into my purse and find my phone to see if he's telling the truth. He is. One call while I was getting ready, another around the time I got off the subway. Which means call three happened sometime while I was underground.
One point in the Nick-isn't-an-asshole tally.
"I did a background check," he says.
"Why?"
"Standard procedure for all potential Odyssey employees." He stares into my eyes. "You're only nineteen. You have a fake ID."
"I plead the fifth." I hold up the back of my hand to show off my nifty X. "This is an all ages club."
"You're eight years younger than I am."
"Yeah, well it's not like we're going to get married." I throw my brown hair back. I have a goal here, and it's not to insult Nick as much as possible within a fifteen-minute span. It's to get a job at his company. I clear my throat and offer a polite smile. "If you don't trust me, I understand, but I'm not going to tell anyone about the night we spent together."
"Your sister?"
"Do you have a problem with Blake Sterling or just with me knowing him?"
"Sterling Tech has the talent and money to crush us with the right information."
"And you think I'm a spy? Blake is the one who told me about your company. He's not interested in stealing your trade secrets."
"No?"
"He wouldn't send me as a spy." I press my palms into my thighs. "He knows I don't trust him."
"You're staying in his apartment."
"How the fuck do you know that?"
"You listed it as your address in your application."
"Oh." My back softens. "I'm staying for winter break. Our old place is sublet, and I don't exactly have the spare cash for a hotel. If I don't get this internship, it's back to California, to the Stanford dorms."
Nick's shoulders relax. "You'll need to sign a non-disclosure agreement."
"Of course." It's standard procedure at every tech company.
"It will include our personal relationship."
That's not as standard. I take a sharp breath. "What personal relationship is that?"
"I'm not going to fuck an intern."
Great, I'm an intern. In his head, I don't even have a name.
Wait.
I'm an intern.
I have to sign an NDA.
He's offering me the job.
I tug at the hem of my dress, accidentally revealing my purple tights all the way to mid-thigh. "If this is bribery not to tell anyone about our night together—"
"It's not. You are the best candidate."
As if on cue, Sarah approaches us. She hands me a half drunk rum and diet and shakes Nick's hand.
"I'm Sarah."
"Lizzy's new boss." He turns to me. "I'll send an offer in the morning. You start immediately."
"I haven't agreed to take the position."
"You will."
His hand brushes against my thigh as he shifts off the couch. It sends a wave of heat through my body. The way he's looking at me, the stern tone of his voice—I want to close my eyes and drink it in.
I want to throw myself on this couch and spread my legs as wide as they'll go.
Fortunately, my libido isn't quite as unchecked as my temper. I smooth my dress and take a small sip of my beverage.
Nick's eyes go to my drink. "You're nineteen."
"And it's a diet coke."
"Diet coke is almost black. There's rum in that drink."
Sarah looks at me, her eyes wide with wonder. She mouths holy shit. Okay, so Nick has the observational powers of a god. That will make it more difficult to keep my list under wraps.
He slides his hand into his pocket. "I am not understanding about employee indiscretions."
I slurp the last drop of my rum and diet. "Still didn't take the job yet."
My snappy comeback does nothing to soothe me. He's still so cool and collected. That night must not have meant anything to him.
I make a point of bending over to set my drink on the floor. My dress shifts down, revealing the top of my lacy black bra. The one he gave me.
He licks his lips. Must be a reflex because his expression is stern.
Nick nods goodbye to Sarah. "Nice to meet you." His gaze catches mine. "Take the morning to finish arranging everything. Ms. Lee will expect you in the office by 1:00."
"Okay."
"Goodnight, Lizzy."
He leans in, close enough that I can smell his cologne, and kisses me on the cheek.
My lungs empty. He was close enough to kiss me. He did kiss me. On the cheek, yeah, but his lips were on my skin.
And now he's walking away.
"Goodnight." I press my hands against my tights.
Sarah fans herself. "Holy fuck, Lizzy. That's your boss? He sure puts Robin to shame."
I turn back to the dance floor, but it's like all the energy is being sucked out a black hole. I don't want to dance with any of these guys. Not when I can still smell Nick's cologne.
My eyes flutter closed. I can almost taste his lips. I can almost feel his hands on my skin, his body pressed against mine, his cock—
"Snap out of it. Go after him or forget about him. You're not moping on my watch." She leans in to whisper. "He was looking at you with fuck me eyes. You should go after him."
"He's my boss and this opportunity is important to me."
Sarah pouts. "Then let's find someone who will get your mind off him."
I nod, determined to prove I can want someone more than I want Nick. Anything is possible. "And if you see Kat—"
"My lips are sealed, sweet thang."
***
I try half a dozen dance partners. All of them pale in comparison to Nick.
My body is hot and flushed. All the dancing in the world will do nothing to release the tension between my legs. I sit on the couch with a drink while I wait to approve Sarah's fuck of the night as safe enough to leave with.
He's a tanned surfer boy. Harmless and likely high on weed. I text her my approval and a reminder to use protection and I head home.
The air outside is cold, a few degrees below freezing, but my skin keeps sizzling.
Back at Blake's place, I go straight to the spare bedroom. My room for the time being.
I unzip my boots and peel off my tights. I do it slowly, the way Nick would. He's not going to fuck me. That much is clear. It's a good thing for our professional relationship. I can learn a lot from him, about programming and about AI specifically.
Deep, slow breath. Not fucking Nick is a good thing. It's absolutely a good thing. Totally, absolutely a good thing.
I press my eyes closed and drag my hand up my thighs.
He's never going to fuck me.
I need to get over how badly I want him.
I slide my panties to my knees. I need the release. A healthy way to deal with all the desire coursing through my body.
My fingers slide over my clit. I'm already so sensitive, like my body remembers how much it enjoyed Nick.
Memories fill my head as I stroke myself to an orgasm. The release is there, but I don't feel any more satisfied.
I'm only more desperate to have him.
CHAPTER FOUR
The intercom buzzes at 7AM sharp. There's a mountain of paperwork waiting for me at the front desk. I spend the morning finishing it and dealing with Stanford administration.
I arrive at Odyssey at exactly 1PM, just as Nick requested. Jasmine helps me set up my desk and get familiar with the company software.
The office empties around five-thirty, but I stay, lost in my work. At six, an instant message pops up on my computer screen.
Phoenix Marlowe: Miss Wilder, please come to my office at your earliest convenience. I need to speak with you.
I bite my lip. Does he have to be so formal?
If this is the relationship Nick wants, this is the relationship he'll get. My career is more important than any feelings I ever had for him. Or f
or the guy I thought he was.
I power down my computer, collect my things, and knock on the door.
"Come in," he answers.
I do. He's sitting behind his desk, all his attention on his computer screen. His office is huge. There's a couch, a wet bar, and an amazing view of the buildings on the other side of Broadway.
His focus shifts to me. "How was it?"
"Amazing." I clear my throat and try something a little more professional. "I expect it will take me a few days to get familiar with everything."
"Interns are allowed to be excited."
"I'm aware that I'm an intern, Nick."
"Please address me by my last name while we're at work." He shifts out of his seat, all business. "We need to discuss your living arrangements."
"I'm pretty sure that where I live is none of your business, Mr. Marlowe."
"You can't stay with Blake Sterling. I won't punish you for your sister's engagement, but it doesn't look right, an employee staying with the CEO of a competing company."
"I don't have anywhere else to stay. Do you have any idea how much it costs to rent a place in the city?" I fold my arms over my chest. "No, I suppose you're too rich to care about little trifles like rent."
"I'm aware of the market."
"Own enough buildings that it matters to you?"
"Don't insult my wealth. The money doesn’t matter to me."
"Money never matters to people who have it." Go to hell for telling me what to do. "I can't accept a salary without losing my school credit. The two thousand dollar a month per diem is more than generous."
He scribbles something on a memo pad and hands it to me.
It's an address.
"It's company policy to offer employees discounted rates on apartments in the financial district." He kneels down to open a mini fridge, pulls out a can of diet soda, and offers it to me.
I pop it open. "Thank you." The cold, fizzy drink does nothing to cool me. "But you can't force me to move out of my home."
Nick rises to his feet. He looks even taller and grander standing in his sleek, modern office.
"I'll include the apartment as part of your compensation. It will be yours through June." He looks back at me, unblinking.
"That can't be legal."
"It is. I can refer you to the company lawyer—"
"No, I trust you. About work."
"I'll take you to sign the papers tomorrow."
Did that night meant anything to you? Even a little bit?
I swallow hard. Kat and Blake will be newlyweds soon. The last thing they need is a third wheel, especially one who will cock-block them.
I've always wanted my own apartment.
I make eye contact with Nick. "Fine. But I can't go tomorrow. My sister gets back from St. Barts tomorrow."
"Lucky her."
"Yes, she's very lucky and very happy and very in love. But, really, Blake is the one who is lucky to have her, because she's—"
"Caring, sweet, and idealistic?"
His face is smug, like he's satisfied with his memory.
"Yes." I fold my arms. How can he remember such a specific detail and still act like we're strangers?
Nick moves out from behind his desk. He grabs his coat from the rack and slides it around his shoulders. "We'll go now."
***
Despite the "Business hours: 9 to 5" sign in front of the leasing office, Nick opens the door and steps inside. A woman in a navy blue suit, flirtatious smile plastered on her face, greets him.
"Mr. Marlowe. It's always a pleasure. What can I do for you?" She stands and shakes his hand.
"Miss Wilder is our spring semester intern. She needs a place to stay."
"You didn't have to come with her. Don't tell me you made the visit just to see me." Her eyes pass over me, grading me as either a potential employee or a potential girlfriend. "We have a studio available. It's due for painting over the weekend. Should be ready next Wednesday. Three hundred square feet, balcony, view of the Hudson." She reaches into her desk, pulls out a key, and hands it to Nick. "Take a look. Apartment 1003."
"Thank you." He nods goodbye.
His hand presses against my lower back as he leads me to the elevator. Once we're inside, he pulls his hand back to his side, like it was a reflex. An accident.
Nick is ten inches away. Close enough to touch. Close enough to rip off every one of my four layers, press me up against the elevator, and bury himself deep inside me.
He's wearing that same fucking cologne.
My thoughts do nothing to straighten once we're inside the apartment. I try to focus on taking in the small yet elegant place. The high-tech, stainless steel kitchen serves as a hallway. Hardwood floors. Just enough room for a desk, a TV, a bed, and a yoga corner.
Nick is two feet from me. It's close enough that my heart is racing.
There are low clouds in the sky. A storm on the way. But nothing is stopping me from going out on that balcony. I unlock the glass door. Frigid air nips at my nose and chin.
I button my coat and shove my hands into my pockets as I step outside.
It's slick. There's a small puddle a few feet from the built-in drain. Leftover from the New Years Day snow. Or as simple as a drunk upstairs neighbor spilling his cocktail.
I hold onto the railing to peer over the edge. Ten stories is still plenty high. In one direction, the river is dark and choppy. In the other, the steel and glass reflect the grey sky.
Nick steps onto the balcony. His hands go to my waist and he holds tightly. "Careful."
"Is it bad for your liability insurance if an intern falls to her death?"
"Lizzy, you—" He stops himself. "I would be very unhappy if something happened to you."
I release the railing, shifting my waist so I'm pressed against him. "Why?"
"You know the answer to that."
"Actually, I don't." I turn to face him. "And I don't appreciate you pretending like that night meant something to you."
"It did."
I play with the button of my coat. "Should I strip right here to remind you how it went?"
"You'll freeze to death."
"Probably worse for your liability insurance if an intern freezes to death naked on the balcony while the CEO watches."
He frowns, not at all amused, and pulls me back into the apartment.
Behind us, the wind howls. The balcony door pounds against the frame. Nick's expression is intense and he's staring right at me.
"You're not going to forgive yourself if you sacrifice this opportunity over a crush." He releases his grip on my waist and goes to shut and lock the balcony door.
I turn to face him. There's nothing but gray sky and steel buildings behind him. It's so fucking fitting.
"How do you know what I'm willing to forgive?" I ask.
He steps closer. "There were two dozen excellent bots in your portfolio. They were smart, adaptable. You must have spent months trying to figure out that Go AI"
"It's terrible."
"Go is considered un-crackable. I've seen worse attempts from programmers with fifteen years of experience." He holds my gaze. "You love artificial intelligence, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Me too. The last five years of my life have been about this project. You won't find a better place to learn. And you won't be satisfied interning somewhere else. You'll be a code monkey."
"Monkeys are cute. You should see the monkey keychain on my purple Kipling bag. It's adorable." I fold my arms. He's right. Most internships are grunt work. Most advanced AI projects are only accessible to PhDs. This is the best chance I'll ever get to learn about programming artificial intelligence.
"Pretend that night never happened. File it away in your memory."
Anger rises in my gut, pushing away my logic. I stare back at him. "Where? In my spank bank?"
"If you'd like."
I examine his expression for any sign of emotion. Nothing. "Is that what you did?" I see red. "Do you think ab
out that night, about me, when you fuck yourself?"
His expression cracks. Finally. His lips turn down. His eyes fill with frustration. He's upset.
I should feel victorious, but I don't.
"What matters more to you—proving this point or learning about AI?" he asks.
"Why do I have to choose?"
"I want you working at Odyssey, but I will fire you if you keep pushing me."
I swallow hard. "Do you think about that night?"
"Yes."
"When you fuck yourself?"
"On occasion. Mostly, I think about our conversation." He crosses towards the door, motioning for me to follow. "As far as I'm concerned, I met a woman named Marie and never saw her again. Do you understand me?"
"I'm not a child. Don't patronize me." I understand. I've got to pretend that we never shared anything. It may as well have been a different guy that night.
Only the Nick in front of me—the hurt in his eyes, the strength in his posture, the determination in his voice—is exactly the guy I met last year.
It's not like I work with him directly. I can avoid Nick at the office enough to pretend.
I take one more look at the apartment. That white winter light is beautiful, especially bouncing off the shiny hardwood floor. It will be my space. All mine.
"Thank you for the apartment," I say. "It's beautiful."
"It's not from me. It's a company apartment." He pulls the door open for me. "I'll have someone from my team pack up your stuff at Stanford. It may take a few weeks to clear it with the school."
"I have enough for a few weeks."
We make our way to the elevator. Then to the street. To the subway station.
Nick nods goodbye. "Your apartment should be ready by the end of next week. If there's anything specific you need—" He pulls a business card from his pocket. "My personal number."
I stare at the business card, confused. What kind of guy insists on keeping things professional then hands out his personal number?
I'll take him at his word. "Thank you, Nick. Mr. Marlowe."
"Lizzy."
"Yeah?"
"You're a bright girl with a great future. This isn't going to hurt in the morning."
"I'm nineteen. I'm not a girl. I don't need advice about how to handle feelings." I turn into the subway station without looking at him.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Billionaire's Need: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire's Deal Series Book 3) Page 3
