by Mika Lane
He sucked in his breath. “You know what I’m calling about. Have you made any progress?”
“Simon, I think you might have a hearing problem. Or maybe it’s a listening problem. So let me tell you again. I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t have ten grand.” An image of strangling him with my bare hands flashed through my thoughts. At least then I wouldn’t have to divorce him.
“Stop fucking with me, Nara.” His voice had lowered, transforming into something like a growl. I didn’t know he had it in him. But I didn’t know he had it in him to extort ten grand from me, either. “I want my goddamn money, and I want it now.”
Okay.
I was done.
“Look, you little creep. You got your citizenship. You are entitled to nothing else.”
“You’re wrong there. Thanks to me and my investment in you, you’ve accomplished quite a lot. Like creating your own software firm. And I want a return on my investment.”
“Simon?”
“Yes?”
“If you expose me, you’ll be exposed, too. I will have to pay a steep fine. But you—you’ll be deported.”
He guffawed. “No, I won’t darling. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because they’ll never catch me. I already have another identity to assume when the time is right.”
His cold words gave me goosebumps. “Just like you, always figuring out a way to cheat the system.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t talk, my little friend. You are guilty of the same.”
My hands fisted, and my back went rigid. “I broke the same law you did. But I will never, ever be the disgraceful scumbag you are.”
I swiped my phone closed as best I could with a wildly shaking hand. I wasn’t sure if my upset was from being pissed off, afraid, or both. I’d never felt true hatred before, and a shiver ran down my spine. Nausea settled in my stomach. I had a feeling it’d be there for a while.
* * *
My heels clicking on the lobby’s marble floor, I crossed to the huge doors leading from my office building to the hectic New York street scene.
“Good night, Miss Kincaid.”
I waved at the front desk guard.
Just before I reached the doors, my phone vibrated. I considered ignoring it, which I almost never did. Curiosity always got the better of me.
It was Brodie again.
hey. join me for a drink?
Hmmm.
i’m out front of your building.
Shit. Was I dealing with a stalker?
If he was in front of my building, it was too late to hide. I’d just exited the front doors. It was dark, but I was still under the building’s lights. Most likely, he could see me—and I couldn’t see him.
I looked around, checking out the pedestrians walking by and the cars parked at the curb. A limo window rolled down, and he leaned out. He looked terribly sexy with his open-collar dress shirt and suit jacket.
“Nara. Over here.”
Why was I not surprised this guy traveled around in a limo? Anyway, I guess I was committed. Maybe he’d be a welcome diversion from my crummy day. I hoisted a heavy tote over my shoulder and started toward the shiny black town car, conscious that he was watching my every step.
“This is a surprise,” I said as he got out of the car and held the door for me. But I wasn’t about to jump right in.
“Are we going somewhere?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
He laughed and bowed as if I were royalty. “It’s a beautiful evening. I thought I’d try to catch you on the way home from work. I remember your saying you leave between eight and nine every night, just like I do.”
Oh, what the hell.
“Okay. Let’s go.” I slipped into the back seat of the car with a quick hello to the driver.
Brodie pulled the door closed behind us with a smooth swoop.
“Where we going?” I asked.
I had to admit, a drink sounded nice. And he sure was handsome, with that dark, brooding thing going on. So different from Michael at work. And the creep Simon.
“What do you think about stopping by The Speakeasy in Brooklyn? That’s where you live, right?”
Oh! “I’ve always wanted to go there. To The Speakeasy, not Brooklyn.”
He laughed at my lame joke.
“Cool, let’s check it out.” He leaned forward to give the driver directions.
I’d made a mistake with Michael at work. I’d made a colossal mistake with Simon. I couldn’t afford to make any more.
Chapter 12
Brodie
I’d put myself out there for Nara, something I rarely did with women. But my gut told me it would be worth it, and when she’d walked out of that office building, I knew I’d been right.
Luck must have been on my side, because she exited just as we pulled up in the limo. She’d stood outside the door, phone stuck in her face, reading what I figured was my text. Under the overhang in the building’s light, she struck a pose that about killed me. In her slim skirt and skyscraper heels, she was the definition of elegance. Although tons of women in New York dressed just like her. The skirt with heels was practically a uniform around here. Go to a happening bar any night of the week, and they’re all dressed like that.
What was different about Nara was how she held herself, so unselfconscious. She had a ridiculously large bag thrown over one shoulder. It must have been heavy as hell because she had to lean in the opposite direction to keep from toppling over. And while she wore those expensive, fuck-me style pumps, she was a little pigeon-toed. Not enough to look dopey, but enough to look like she wasn’t trying too hard. Her hair had been pulled back into some messy confection at the nape of her neck and from where I sat, it looked like strands were poking out all over. She looked real.
As she got closer, I rolled down the window and waved her over. I popped out of the limo, still not entirely sure she’d go anywhere with me. But there was no harm in asking, right?
She must have had a crap day like me, because she looked like she needed a drink, and we headed over to Brooklyn to a cool new place called The Speakeasy. Supposedly, it really had been a speakeasy back in the day.
“I should have known you ran around town in a limo,” she said with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah, well. I guess membership has its privileges.” I laughed and shrugged. Hey, I worked my ass off and made a good living. I deserved some of the convenience money could buy in New York. And having a pleasant way to get around town was the balls.
“So you never take the subway?” she asked.
Snarky. I liked that.
“Sure I do. You can’t live here and not take the subway. But I grab the limo whenever I can. It takes a lot of stress off the day.”
She looked around, smoothing her hand over the leather seats. “Well, it sure is a nice treat. Hey, have you talked to Page Six yet? About our Avenue A auction date?”
I couldn’t stand that useless gossip column. “No. Not interested,” I told her, shrugging.
She nodded. “I get that. I only spoke to them to get a little free publicity for my company.”
Smart girl. “What’d you tell them?” We hadn’t spent much time together yet. What could she possibly have to say?
“Just that it was a lovely evening, and that maybe auction dating wasn’t so bad.” She laughed.
“Do you really feel that way?”
Now, it was her turn to shrug. “I wouldn’t make a habit of it, but when it’s for a good cause, why not?” She reached to gather her loose pieces of hair, and as she did, her blouse pulled out of her skirt. I spied only a small amount of her smooth, flat stomach, but it was the pierced belly button that caused my cock to twitch.
“I’m with ya on that,” I agreed.
“You are?”
“I’ve been in a few of these auctions now, and the resulting dates are sometimes…shall we say, painful?”
That damn crooked smile of hers washed over me. “Tell me! I want to hear the d
irt.”
Not gonna happen. “Let’s just say some of the folks I’ve met were not people I would usually spend much time with.”
She tilted her head, clearly smart enough to read between the lines. “Okay. I get it. So you’re saying you haven’t picked up an auction girl after work and offered them a ride in your big, bad limo?”
Wow. She made me laugh, something few people did. “I’ve never had a second date with someone I met through an auction.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Oh. So this is a date?”
“Jesus, you’re a ball buster. Can we just have a nice time?” I asked with a wink. “Miss Happy?”
“You know, even though Nara means happy, I’ve never been called that.”
“Do you like it?” I asked.
Nodding slowly, she said, “I think I do. It’s kind of nice.”
I leaned forward to knock on the window separating the driver from the back seat. “You can drop us here.”
“Yes sir. Just give me a call when you’re ready to return, Mr. Harcourt.”
I took her hand as she climbed out of the car and continued holding it until we reached the restaurant. She gripped my fingers tightly in return. It felt damn good.
The Speakeasy was gimmicky, but it was the perfect place to take a date. We knocked on a nondescript front door—which was funny, because everyone knew it was the hottest new bar—and a tiny window opened as if we were sneaking into someplace forbidden. On the inside, the low lights and dark wood made for a cozy set up, and a waitress in 1920’s-style gangster garb ushered us to a corner booth.
“This place is great,” Nara said, flipping through the drink menu.
Up for trying the old Prohibition drinks, she ordered a highball and I got a sidecar.
“So what else did you tell Page Six about us?” I asked. Having read her brief interview, because I’m a spying bastard, I knew full well what she’d told them. I planned to have some fun putting her on the spot.
She blushed from light pink to almost purple and stirred her drink with the tiny straw it had been delivered with. “Well, you know. I told them it wasn’t really my preferred way of meeting guys, and that you were nice enough, but that I didn’t feel a spark.” She stared down at her drink.
“Well,” I said. “There ya go.” I wasn’t bothered in the least by her answer. What else was she going to say? That she wanted to marry me? I had to bite my tongue to keep from smiling.
She met my gaze. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you, or talk trash about you.”
I popped a grin. There was no stopping it.
“Why are you smiling?” she asked.
I couldn’t help it. “I totally know what ran in Page Six; my admin showed it to me. I think it was hilarious.”
She leaned back in her chair and relaxed. “So you asked just to embarrass me?”
“Pretty much,” I said, nodding.
“Well, you got me on that. Cheers.” She clinked her glass against mine. “In fact, they asked for a follow up in case we got together again.”
“Jesus. Nosy fuckers, aren’t they?”
She slapped my arm with a laugh. “Well, I guess that’s what Page Six is all about. However, the day after the article ran visits to our website shot up. I had no idea just how many people read that gossip column. Apparently, a lot of moms with kids in poopy diapers,” she said.
“Hey, if you can make money off poopy diapers, I say go for it.” I took her hand, pulling it to my lips for a kiss.
She stopped stirring her drink and looked at me for a tense moment. But she clasped my fingers right back. Her reticence was sexy as hell.
With a slight smile, she continued. “The potential is there. We just need to perfect the app and get it to market.”
I studied her. “Are you close?”
She pursed her lips. “Yes and no. Sometimes the program sends the wrong message to the parents’ phone. Not to get into too much gory detail, but the sensor that sits in the baby’s diaper sometimes mixes things up. But we’re getting there. Our last tests were really good. The moms we had come in loved it.” She looked at her watch. “We’d better pack it in. At least, I should. Got an early morning, and I still have work to do. The good news is that I can walk home from here.”
Back out on the street, I didn’t want to let her go.
“You know, Nara, I wonder if there is a way I can help. With the company.”
Surprise washed over her face. “Oh. Wow, thank you. But I don’t see how you could.”
“Do you plan to have a launch party or some other sort of event? You could do it at the hotel.”
“Really? I hadn’t even thought that far ahead,” she said.
“Also, I have a lot of celebrity contacts. Not because I’m friends with them. I just get a lot of business from them at the hotel. I wonder if I could hook you up with some celebrity mommies…?”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Oh my god. I should hire you to do my marketing. What an amazing idea. If they like the app, maybe they can give me their endorsement.”
“Exactly.” I laughed. “So much of the hotel business is about promotion. I think I’ve got it in my veins.”
“That’s so nice of you to offer. I really, really appreciate it.” She extended her hand for a shake.
Not quite what I was expecting.
So I took her hand and gently pulled her forward to place a kiss on her cheek. God, I loved how her hair smelled. And she turned, ever so slightly, toward my kiss. That was all I needed.
I brushed my lips against hers, as I’d been dying to do since she got into the limo earlier. And to my delight, she returned the kiss with equal curiosity.
“Can I walk you home?” I offered.
She opened her mouth, but at first nothing came out.
In a breathy voice she managed, “Um…I’d like you to. I really would. But I think you’d better not. I’m just around the corner.”
She was probably right. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to leave her at the door. Especially when I saw how erect her nipples were.
“All right. Good night.” This gave me another chance to kiss her, and this time I wasn’t such a pussy. I pulled her from the waist and pressed my lips to hers, searching and exploring. I wanted to know her, really know her, and thankfully, she fell into me like we were made for each other. When I pulled away because I didn’t want to push too hard, she sighed, her eyes still closed.
I watched her walk down the street with her ridiculously heavy bag. I wished she’d let me walk her home, but I knew better than to push. She seemed a little on the fence about me in spite of our hot kiss, and the last thing I wanted to do was give her a reason to run away screaming.
But if she was going to, I’d make sure she had a really good reason.
Chapter 13
Nara
What a pleasant surprise my impromptu date with Brodie had turned out to be. Not at all stalkerish, even though he’d showed up at my office, unannounced, in his limo. And then there were those kisses. God, he was hot.
But still…
Before I turned the corner toward my place, I looked back over my shoulder.
To my surprise, there he was, crouched, in conversation with a homeless man camped out on the sidewalk. He had a hand on the man’s shoulder, and was nodding as they spoke. He reached for his wallet and pulled out some bills. Before leaving, he shook hands with him, leaving the man dazed by the uncommon act of kindness. I slipped around the corner before Brodie saw me.
I’ll be darned. I was dazed, too.
My heels were not the best things for walking on the old, uneven sidewalks of Brooklyn. If I’d thought about it earlier, I would have switched to the flats in my bag. Never too late. I kicked off my heels before I broke my neck. Ahhh, my feet cried thank you as I slipped them into shoes that were actually good for my feet.
So Brodie had turned out to be quite charming, not to mention philanthropic. Although I still didn’t know much about him—our dri
nk had been a quick one. But it was generous of him to offer to help Mommy Knows. And I guess he really was committed to helping the homeless. His involvement wasn’t limited to showing up at fundraising auctions.
But his kiss…
My phone beeped. It was him texting me good night. I couldn’t help but smile as I hurried home before my overloaded computer bag permanently damaged my back. It wasn’t going to be easy to concentrate, that was for sure.
* * *
Next morning, I walked into Mommy Knows, and good old Mimi was already there. I headed back to my office that was not an office when Joi poked her head in.
“Hey girl,” she yelled, half scaring me out of my wits.
“Jesus, Joi. Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”
She danced toward my desk. What the hell was she up to?
“I’ve got some gossip for you…” she sang.
Last thing I was in the mood for.
“I’m really not interested—”
She looked around gleefully. “Michael is fucking that temp receptionist we have up front.”
Ooof.
Had someone punched me in the gut? Because it sure felt like it. I didn’t even like Michael, and though we’d messed around, we were certainly not in any sort of relationship. And I’d rebuffed him only recently.
So then why did I feel like a chump?
I’d been in high school when I’d gone through my slut stage. Although it was more like a slut on steroids stage. When I’d emerged from it—bad reputation and all—I had a newfound commitment to academics and to getting the hell out of Dodge. But while in the middle of it, I jumped from guy to guy, desperate for approval and some sort of teenage connection. But the boys had always moved on to another girl by the next time I saw them in the school hallway.
And Mom wondered why I never wanted to come back home?
“Joi, I could give a shit who that guy sleeps with. It’s his business. As long as he keeps doing his job.”
“So touchy. I’ll come by later when you’re not in such a shitty mood.”
“Joi—” But she was gone.
My phone vibrated. Oh no.
