He’s met chicks like her before. Well, maybe not anyone quite like her. She’s not exactly an endangered species though.
Harley wishes he could just throw her back to the wolves, but he can’t stop thinking about how perfect Aliah looked straddled on the bike and how good she felt behind him. He’d asked her out. On a date. And she’s outright denied him. He’s never asked a woman out before. Never. But something has him forcing the issue with Aliah. He wants to woo those sassy shoes right off her.
Aliah’s car passes in a flash. She drives so quickly that he almost misses her flying by. He turns into traffic and maintains a safe distance behind her, having to travel a lot faster than he usually would in rush hour traffic. He watches her turn into a parking lot and examines her every move.
She rushes the front door of a lawyer’s office, Bailey & Miller LLP. It’s only the top law firm in the City. Joshua Bailey happens to be the most renowned criminal defence lawyer north of Toronto. Harley wonders what kind of trouble she has gotten herself into. He can only imagine. It’s no wonder she’s lied about where she was going.
Harley drives right past the lawyers’ office and heads straight to work, skipping home for a fresh change of clothes. He loves the scent of her on him. He’ll have a pleasant day. After collecting himself, which is rather difficult when he can still taste her on his lips, he decides to spend the better part of his morning finding all the dirt he can on Miss Aliah Brooklin.
That is, after all, what he is hired to do.
Jillian takes a step into Harley’s office before she realizes he has crashed behind his computer monitors. “Eh hem!” Jillian makes a dramatic sound, artificially clearing her throat to get his attention.
Harley jolts awake, looking like hell. “Oh. Hey, Jillian. I must have nodded off.”
“I’d say. She must be keeping you busy.”
“Who? Oh. Her. Right.” He tries to act ignorant, but he can sense that Jillian’s reaction to his sleeplessness is rather peculiar.
That’s too bad for her. It’s not against the law to have sex with a beautiful willing woman, even if he might have a minor conflict of interest in the matter.
Jillian tries to hide her impatience, but fails. “Any luck?”
She must be referring to the investigation. He doubts she cares to hear how exactly he got lucky.
“Not exactly.” Harley clears his throat, squirming in his seat, as his body rises at the mere thought of Aliah’s silky soft skin. He wonders how he can work around the truth without lying to his trusted assistant. “She’s a handful, that one.”
“I bet.” Jillian’s clearly annoyed with him. “What’s the plan now? Do you need me to scoop her cell phone? Because I will.”
“No, no. Nothing like that. I don’t actually believe the girl is guilty. Ms. Hawkins might just be one with an overactive imagination.”
“What?” Jillian’s face is painted with scepticism. Her voice turns snappy. “You’ve never given the suspect benefit of the doubt before. Why start now?”
Aliah Brooklin.
He clears his throat again, as if Jillian might have heard his thoughts. “I just have a feeling about this one.”
Jillian takes a step closer and stares at his crotch, but there’s no way she knows his dick is still twitching just talking about her. “A feeling, hmm?” She props her hands on her hips, slouches to one side and stares at the crotch of his jeans. “I think you should quit thinking with your other head and concentrate on getting the deal closed. I mean it, David. Get it together.”
He waves her off, as her eyes meet his. Since when did Jillian give him a pep talk? He wonders how invested she is in the outcome of this investigation. He kicks his boots up onto the desk to remind her who’s the boss here.
“You’re way off base. I haven’t found even a smidgen of evidence against her. It’s not the girl’s fault that Cavanagh looks at her a certain way. Last I checked, it’s no crime to wear sexy shoes and flash a little cleavage every now and then.”
Jillian seems to soften to his easygoing attitude. “I’ll have to remember that.” She smiles, a little too intrigued by the idea. “Maybe I’ll give it a try tonight. Some friends invited me to join them at Riley’s. Want to join us?”
Every time she asks, Harley gives her the same answer. But she keeps on asking anyway.
“I would. But I actually have a thing.”
“David H. Gates. Don’t tell me no lies. Do you have a date?”
His expression remains deadpan. “Something like that.”
“Why don’t you bring her too? I’d love to meet the girl.”
“I appreciate the offer, Jillian. I really do. But I don’t think I’ll be dressed for the part tonight.”
Jillian is not giving up. “What do you mean? Riley’s hardly has a dress code.”
“I know. But I’d feel a little out of place wearing a suit past five.”
“A suit? Oh, you’re pulling out all the stops for this one. I’m jealous.”
He raises his brow, wondering why she continues to flirt with him after all these years. “Don’t be. It’s nothing special.”
Jillian lifts both of her brows in a dramatic display to the contrary. “You in a suit? That’s pretty special in its own right.”
She pauses, and seems to think better than to carry on with the swooning. “If you change your mind, stop on over for a drink.”
Harley nods his head, but he has no intention of bringing Aliah there. He has a date. A date. That’s what he’s calling it because that’s what it is. No one spends a plate at Orlando’s on someone other than a date. Aliah has to know that. Since she’s agreed to dinner with him, but not a date, then what is she looking for? A good fuck? He certainly hopes so.
His dick suggests he’s doing the right thing, and he seems to agree at this time. In reality, he’s on business. He shouldn’t be fucking around with the suspect, even if she is one smoking hot chick. But he wants her, from those high heels to her potty mouth. And he isn’t against flashing a wad of cash, if that’s what he has to do to impress her.
Jillian is right. He’s ready to pull out the big guns for this one. And, for the first time in his life, he’s looking forward to it.
CHAPTER TEN
When the clock strikes five, most of the staff rush out of the office. Everyone bolts early on a Monday night. But not Aliah. Not tonight.
Bailey had just dropped a stack of files on her desk ten minutes earlier, and every last one of them had been called to the docket for Tuesday. Bailey needs the files ready for tomorrow at nine. She really doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter. There is no one else. Just her and Bailey and a stack of files for four.
Bailey peeks his head back inside her cubicle. “You’re sure you don’t mind working late tonight? You know I hate doing this to you, but it really is an emergency.”
She knows how important it is to Bailey that these matters be heard tomorrow. She bites her tongue and smiles. “I can do it. It shouldn’t take too long.”
That was an understatement. She had quit looking at the clock at six. She knows there is no way she can make dinner with Harley now. Maybe it’s best this way.
Bailey offers to order takeout at seven. “It’s the least I can do.”
She can’t even imagine eating a bite, while dreaming about the meal she has missed. “No thanks. I’m not hungry.”
She ignores the food when it arrives and finishes her work.
“I think that’s it.” She drops the files on Bailey’s desk. “Why don’t you take a quick look and make sure there isn’t something I’ve missed?”
“No, no. You go on. I can take it from here.”
“You’re sure? Because I don’t mind staying a little longer.”
“It’s after 8:30, Aliah.” Bailey swallows a mouthful of food before continuing. “I’ve already ruined your night.”
You have no idea.
“You get on out of here,” he insists. “And don’t bother to come
in until after lunch tomorrow.”
Her smile is genuine. “Thanks. But you don’t have to do that.”
“I insist. You’ll be paid for your time. No more fussing. Now get lost.” He waves a hand to shoo her away.
She smiles and walks off. “Good night.”
The cool evening air rushes her when she steps outside. The sky has already turned dark and shadows are lurking around the private parking lot. She hurries to unlock her door, and instantly relocks it after she drops into her seat. She rubs her eyes with both hands, smearing the black mascara under her eyes.
Aliah holds one of her hands over her face and starts to laugh, but it’s not out of humor. She has totally blown off a sexy bad boy, who also seems to have the desire to wine and dine her. Oh well. He probably would have paid for her dinner with drug money anyway. She drops the pouty face and snickers to herself, as she starts her car.
What is this guy’s deal anyway? He plans all this while still believing that she’s a trashy bartender. It is likely for the best that she didn’t call him. He’d get the hint in a hurry when she didn’t show.
Can you even say you stood up a man when it isn’t a date?
Yes. Because that’s exactly what she did. And it was a date. Her realization only makes her feel like the piece of shit that she is.
As she turns toward her home, she contemplates why she had even agreed to go out with him in the first place. She could have dropped the act and caught a cab the other night. But a part of her, the one hiding deep down inside of her, secretly wanted to see where things could go with him. She wanted it to be a date. Why did she want it to be a date?
Instead of calling Harley to apologize, or calling a friend to confess, Aliah drives straight to Riley’s to drown herself in a few shots. She convinces herself it was a good thing that she never made it to dinner with Harley, since then they would have went back to her house for more sex. A bitch could get addicted to a man like that. It’s best this way. She keeps telling herself that repeatedly, hoping that it will make it feel more true.
After whirling her car around, she speeds to Mitchell’s bar and wheels into the parking lot. She climbs out of her car, shrugs out of her stifling suit jacket, and then tosses it into the backseat. Still feeling overdressed, Aliah pulls her blouse over her head and readjusts her tank top to make sure she is showing the most attractive amount of cleavage.
With her tight shirt tucked into her high-waisted pants, she reaches for her purse and pulls out a wad of cash, leaving her baggage in the car. She checks her reflection in her mirror and once she is satisfied that she looks fuckable, she makes her way across the road to Riley’s.
She hates that the place is packed. Monday night wings never fails to fill the place. She knows though, that it is only a matter of time before the happy hour crowd clears out and returns to their families, to settle snugly into their beds for the night.
Usually Aliah is content to go to bed at ten, snuggle in with a good book, and save the drinking for the weekend. But usually Aliah isn’t asked on a date by a man who she is very attracted to. Then for her to stand him up without an explanation even when she has a perfectly good one.
She has issues.
As the bar quickly clears out, Aliah makes herself more comfortable, kicking a heeled foot up onto the barstool next to her.
“Bartender!” she shouts, though he’s only a few feet away. “Another tequila shot, please.”
“Sorry, Aliah. But I won’t do it. Mitchell would have my neck.”
Aliah looks at the row of empty shot glasses in front of her. It was only three drinks. But she did just drink one – two – three in a row. She could easily handle a couple more.
“What the hell?” she shouts, frustrated more with herself than the poor bartender. “I’m barely even buzzing and you’re cutting me off?”
She becomes more pissed when she realizes that she’ll have to face her troubles soberly. “Maybe I’ll just have to take my business elsewhere. Why don’t you go tell Mitchell that?” She shouts it loud enough for everyone else in the place to hear.
Not only does the owner hear, but she manages to drum up the attention of a certain individual who had been collapsed in a booth, drowning himself in liquor.
Mitchell comes out of the back room and steps right in front of Aliah, as Harley pulls himself out of the booth and onto unsteady feet.
“Ally. It’s a work night. You really shouldn’t be drinking like that. What’s with you tonight?”
“Who are you to decide how and when I should be drinking? I’m my own woman, Mitchy boy. If I want to drink, then I’m going to drink.”
Harley steps out from the crowd, unbeknownst to her, but Mitchell notices immediately. He points his next words at him. “I just want you to be safe.”
Aliah catches the evil eye and knows she has company. Company who Mitchell apparently doesn’t like very much. She spins around on her stool. There’s someone standing there, looking tall and dark and sexy, but it can’t be her Harley because he is wearing a suit! Her eyes bug out of her head as she takes in such a sight. Now she feels like an even bigger douche.
Harley gives Aliah a pointed glance, but his voice is casual. “You have some nerve showing up here.”
Aliah sighs. “Let me explain.”
“No need. I get it. I’ll keep my distance.” He turns away and stumbles down a step and back toward his booth.
“Wait! Harley!”
Shit. He’s really drunk. And that’s because of her. With a few insignificant glances, he disappears back inside the confines of his booth. He manages to make her feel like a horrible person. She is one.
He had gotten all dressed up, wearing a tie and everything. A god-damned tie! By the look of the quality, he had visited a tailor too. And she’d stood the guy up. He is clearly trying, and she has to admit that seeing him dressed like that had her heart swelling with an unguarded desire. Oh, she loves the bad-boy, biker look on him, but the fact that he could pull that shit off too just does something to her insides.
What is wrong with her? Why does she even care? She isn’t supposed to care like that.
“Ally. Don’t do it.” Mitchell’s voice comes out of nowhere. All of his statements lately have had her on the defensive.
She hadn’t noticed until now, but Mitchell has been watching her. She rests her back against the bar, giving him the cold shoulder, her voice turning snappy. “Don’t do what?”
He points toward Harley’s booth with his eyes, as Harley waves a finger at a waitress to get him another drink. Harley’s eyes catch onto hers for not more than a second, but she feels it in her bones. He acts like she is a nobody; a piece of garbage beneath his polished shoes. She feels like trash.
“Don’t do it, Ally,” Mitchell repeats. “He’s not the type of guy you should be hanging around. Especially alone.”
“Is that right?” Aliah twirls around and stands there surfing momentarily, waiting for her balance to catch up with her. “Who exactly do you think is the type for me? I’d really like to know.”
Aliah raises her voice, catching Brandee’s attention and every other nobody sitting between them at the bar. It was no secret that Mitchell has always tried to protect her. He has ever since high school. He has always been a great friend. But he also has a thing for her. And by the way Brandee watches her, Aliah knows that she knows.
Mitchell grabs onto her arm, to keep her from falling, and apologizes. Mitchell is a lot of things. But a cheater is not one of them. Aliah knows he is a safe bet as a friend, since she will never settle like that and he will never grow the balls to make a move beyond friendship. She just isn’t attracted to the big, beefy type. Unless of course that beef is solid, grade-A, Harley.
“Thank you for looking out, Mitch. But I don’t need a babysitter. I can manage fine without you.”
Aliah slips to the floor, suddenly feeling very sober. She stills for an extended moment of truth, before taking a step in the right direction. What i
s she doing? If she doesn’t want to date Harley, then she has already gotten that point across. Her intentions were voiced loud and clear by her silence. But now it is something else drawing her to his table.
As she grows closer, something in the back of her head nags her to stop. But she can’t stop. And she doesn’t stop, until she is standing across from him.
What a mistake!
Her heart rams up into her throat and cuts off her air supply.
Poor, little Harley… my ass!
He’s sitting there with a sexy little slut smiling up at him. Her dress has a deep v neckline and her youthful bust is exposed for every man in the place. But it is Harley’s eyes that she is concerned most about and they seem to be concentrated on the girl’s chest.
Before Harley even notices that she’s standing there, the girl slides across the bench and rests her hand on his, leaning into him.
Slut.
Aliah overhears the girl’s confession. “You know I’m here for you, David. For whatever.”
He’d lied to her about his name. Smooth move, Harley.
The girl senses that Aliah’s standing behind her and glances over her shoulder. It isn’t long before they’re scowling at each other. Aliah watches the girl slide out of the booth and walk away, giving a pointed glare at her, as she passes. Once she rejoins a guy across the room, Aliah clears her throat.
Harley only just then notices that he has company, as Aliah slips onto the seat across from him. His sigh is exaggerated, like it’s a bother for him to deal with her. Then he lowers his voice.
“It’s you,” he mumbles.
“Don’t sound so excited about it.”
“Because you give me good reason to be.” The rude tone he uses with her hits like a shock to her system. All warmth has left the building, along with their unforgiving chemistry.
Twisted Desire (The Twisted Series) Page 8
