Pretty Broken Girl

by Jeana E. Mann

  “What you really want to know are their flaws,” I said. “Their weaknesses.”

  “Yes.” When he shifted to face me, I shifted with him, mirroring his movement from force of a habit I’d thought long forgotten. “Tell me something I can use to make this happen, Dakota.”

  For the first time since our acquaintance, he said my name without anger or resentment. The way his baritone slid over the vowels and enunciated the consonants sent a tingle straight between my legs. Encouraged by his interest and heartened by a subject I knew well, I complied with enthusiasm. I stood and leaned over him to move a pile of folders across the table, letting my breasts graze his shoulder, taking advantage of his attraction to goad him a bit.

  “Well, as you know, there’s the old man, John, and his two sons, Jared and Junior. John’s sharp. He knows the market. He follows the trends. He sees potential where others see nothing.” I tapped a finger on an article I’d printed from the pages of the Wall Street Journal. “He knew about this shopping center outside of Chicago years before it became viable.” It was now a multi-million-dollar property, spawning a bevy of strip malls and restaurants. Several housing developments had popped up nearby. “MacGruder bought all this land at rock-bottom prices from a farmer’s widow then turned around and sold it at a hundred times his investment.”

  “I already know that,” Samuel said with barely veiled impatience. “I need more than that to work with.”

  I frowned and scanned my notes, wracking my brain for any useful tidbit of information. After a second, I reached across the table for my laptop. Sam’s eyes drifted to the sliver of cleavage revealed by the throat of my blouse. My nipples tightened in response. I cleared my throat and tried not to think about the dimple in his chin or the size of his hands resting on the table, the way one of them could cup my breast, the feel of his lips on the tender skin.

  “There is this.” I pulled up an article on my laptop and turned it to face Sam, showing him the headline. “MacGruder bought these two tracts of land on the outskirts of St. Louis. He way overpaid for the purchase. It was completely unlike him. Given the current market, he stands to lose his ass if he can’t turn it around.”

  Sam leaned back, brow furrowed. By the spark of interest in his eyes, I’d hit on something of value.

  “That’s good. St. Louis, you say?” He rubbed his chin. “Get me all the information you can find on this.”

  “I’ve got it all right here.” I pulled out a second file and handed it to him, grateful I’d had the foresight to print out copies of the articles.

  “What about the sons? What can you tell me about them? You dated Jared. Surely you picked up something useful during that time.” He kicked back in his chair and swiveled to face me directly. The weight of his curious gaze traveled over me.

  He knew about Jared? I’d always assumed he’d erased me from his mind the minute I’d walked out his door with my suitcase in hand and divorce papers on the kitchen table. But he hadn’t. He stared. I stared back then ducked my head to hide the guilty flush on my cheeks. I wasn’t sure why I felt like I’d betrayed him by dating someone after our divorce. He certainly had moved on, and I had attempted to do the same. Maybe, it was my own heart that felt betrayed, because I denied it of the one person it loved.

  “It wasn’t like that,” I said, returning my gaze to his, feeling the need to excuse my actions. “We went to a few business dinners after I left the company to come here. Nothing more.” I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. “I told you—I don’t date my coworkers.”

  “Right.” His one-word acknowledgment showed he clearly didn’t believe me, and why should he? In his opinion, I was the kind of girl who valued money over love and ethics.

  A kernel of tension blossomed between my brows. Efforts to change his opinion of me were futile, so I returned my focus to his original question. “Jared’s a hothead. He spends money on frivolous things—money, women, cars, underground fights. Junior’s a bit dull. No head for business. And the two brothers butt heads constantly.”

  I stretched across the table to grab a second report. The throat of my blouse fell open. Sam’s gaze drifted to my cleavage again. A spark of lust flickered in his eyes. When his focus returned to my face, a flush spread up his neck and into his cheeks. I tried not to smirk, reveling in his embarrassment.

  “They butted heads over you.” His words sounded more like an accusation than a statement.

  The walls of my throat constricted. How could he possibly know? No one knew except the parties concerned; at least, that was what I’d thought. Had he been watching me over the years? The chair I was sitting in became uncomfortably hard. I shifted and tried to put the idea out of my mind.

  His cellphone rang. He glanced down at the display then lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey, babe.” The simple endearment prickled my skin with a hot wave of jealousy. He’d talked to me that way once upon a time. A sudden pang of longing bowled me over, to be the girl on the other side of the conversation, to be his. “Yeah. Tonight’s good.” He cupped a hand over the phone. “You can go now, Dakota.” I started to gather the documents into the folder. He stopped me with a touch of his hand on mine. “Leave it.”

  I nodded, irritated with myself for caring, for remembering, for being jealous. I leaned over and said, loud enough for the other person to hear, “Anything you say, baby.”

  He frowned. His gaze locked with mine and didn’t let me go as he said to the person on the other end of the line, “I expect you in my bed naked when I get there.”

  A thousand shards of glass sliced into my heart. We’d been divorced for a decade. We were strangers to each other, but the idea of him in bed with someone else wounded me like we’d only broken up yesterday. Not to mention the way he’d propositioned me only an hour earlier and so easily slid into the arms of another woman. Was Brian right? Had my Sam become a manwhore?

  I felt sick as I left the room and took up residence in my cubicle once more. I stared at the computer screen, unseeing. The man in the office behind me was no one I’d ever known. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around the man he’d grown into. I missed the old Sam, the one whose green eyes had shown with appreciation every time he saw me, whose laughter had warmed my skin, and whose smiles had chased away the gray on the rainiest of days. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to see that boy one more time, to tell him how much he meant to me, and beg him to never change.

  CHAPTER 14

  Samuel - Now

  WITH A GROAN, I passed a hand over my face. I’d promised to meet Tuck and Beckett for a game of basketball after work, something I usually looked forward to. Not today. Today I wanted to hide in the corner of some dark bar with a bottle of bourbon and try to drink away the vision of my ex-wife’s face. Oh, wait. I’d tried that and had the vestiges of a hangover to prove it.

  They were already on the court when I arrived at the gym. Beckett, sly bastard, took one look at my face and smirked. “You look like shit. Ever think about shaving?” Always clean-cut, Becks loved to give me a hard time over my aversion to the razor.

  I scratched a finger over the stubble on my chin. “Not today,” I admitted. “I’ve had other things on my mind.”

  “When you’re that pretty, you don’t have to shave.” Tuck tossed the basketball at me. I caught it, but my limbs felt heavy and thick. I shot it back at him and tripped over the boundary line.

  “What’s your excuse then?” I asked him. Tuck had the carefully messy look that drove women wild. His blond hair was longer and darker than mine, pulled into a ponytail. A neatly trimmed beard outlined his jaw. I’d never seen him in anything dressier than jeans and a T-shirt, but then, he spent most of his time in front of a computer monitor, designing video games.

  “There is no excuse for Tuck.” Beckett lunged forward, stole the ball from Tuck’s hands, and drove for the basket. We both stood in place and watched him dunk the ball.

  “Show-off,” I grumbled. A former college basketball star, Beckett e
xcelled at everything he did. He landed lightly on the balls of his feet and shot us a grin.

  “So how’s life in the corporate world?” Tucker asked. “You done with that merger yet?”

  “Not yet.” I caught Beckett’s pass and dribbled the ball from hand to hand, avoiding both men’s gazes, unprepared for their inevitable ribbing. “I’ve run into a complication.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re getting soft in your old age,” Beckett interjected. He faked an attempt to grab the ball. I blocked him with an outstretched arm. It was a token effort. He was by far the better athlete among the three of us and could have annihilated my defense without breaking a sweat. “You said you’d be in and out in a week.”

  “My ex-wife works there.” I dodged Beckett’s hand for a second time and made an awkward drive for the basket. Neither guy came after me. When I turned, they were standing there, gaping like I knew they’d be.

  “You’re divorced? Christ, I didn’t even know you’d been married.” This came from Beckett. He ran a hand through his short, dark hair. Tucker rubbed the back of his neck. He knew about Dakota and the divorce, having experienced the aftermath firsthand as my college roommate. I didn’t meet Beckett until after graduation, when Dakota was long gone from my life. I sent the ball to Tuck with a chest pass. He caught it and secured it under an arm, bringing the game to a halt.

  “What?” I bent down to evade their gazes and retied my shoelace, even though it was perfectly tight.

  “Holy shit, man. You’ve been sitting on this information all week and didn’t think to share?” Tuck exchanged a look with Becks.

  “It’s no big deal,” I said. “Just a nuisance.”

  “Are you okay?” Tucker asked, a teasing grin on his tanned face. “Do you want to talk about your feelings and shit? Cause we’re totally here for you, bro, if that’s what you need.”

  I groaned and shook my head. “This is precisely why I didn’t say anything. It was a long time ago.” I dragged a forearm across my forehead, feeling the effects of last night’s bourbon. Sweat poured out of me, soaking my shirt, even though we’d been on the court for less than twenty minutes.

  Beckett broke his silence. “Is that why you’ve been acting so weird this week?” His brows lowered. He shot a glance at Tucker. “I called him today, and in the middle of the conversation he told me to be naked and on his bed when he got home. Then he says he was playing a joke on someone and to disregard. I’m starting to worry.”

  Tucker chuckled, mirthful and mischievous as a seventh grader. “Has she turned you off women? ‘Cause I’ve totally heard of that happening before.”

  Shit. I’d totally forgotten about Beckett’s call during our meeting this morning. Eager for retribution, I’d invented that little tidbit just to see the reaction on her face, and it had been priceless. “Sorry about that,” I said to Beckett and shot Tucker a glare. “I’m still into women, thank you. You’re too hairy for my taste, Beckett.” I swiped a hand over my face and searched for the words to describe the situation. I didn’t want any kind of emotional involvement with Dakota. She was about as trustworthy as rattlesnake. Unfortunately, my dick hadn’t received the message and was still perking up at the mere thought of her.

  “So this woman? She’s the reason you’re such a heartbreaker. Am I right?” The pieces of the puzzle snapped into place for Beckett as he studied my face. “Unable to commit. Serial one-night stands. Aversion to dating.”

  “Yeah. I guess,” I said. We’d given up the pretense of playing ball by this time. Beckett and Tucker, in true form, found my predicament much more interesting than a mundane game of basketball. In unspoken agreement, we grabbed our gear from the sidelines and headed toward the showers.

  “Have you actually talked to her?” Beckett asked.

  “It’s hard not to,” I replied, feeling a small amount of relief to discuss the problem with someone. “She’s actually pretty good at what she does, and I need her to make my next project work.”

  “But you’re going to can her.” Tucker tossed the basketball into the equipment cage, voice full of confidence. He turned his attention to Beckett. “This girl really did a number on him. Sold out to his dad for a big fat check.” Beckett looked appropriately shocked. “So he’s going to throw her out on her ass. Isn’t that right, Seaforth?” Tucker locked his gaze onto me.

  I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “That was the plan, but she’s got a contract,” I said. “I’m stuck with her for a while.” No need to go into the whole fatal-attraction situation. As far as they knew, I’d never cared for a woman beyond what she might do for me in bed or in the boardroom, and I planned to keep it that way. “Unless I can get her to quit. And believe me, I’m having a great time trying.”

  Beckett laughed. “No wonder you look like hell. That’s got to be a bitch. Facing your ex every day.”

  “Why don’t you just buy her out?” Tucker asked. His gaze flicked away from mine and toward the girls entering the gym. “She’s money-hungry, right? Just write her a check and say goodbye.” The women drew closer. He flashed a devastating smile at the tall blonde with a huge rack. “Hey, ladies.”

  “Hi,” she said, turning her focus from Tuck to me. “Hi, Sam.”

  “Hi, Cadence,” I said, feeling an instant frisson of dread. I’d hooked up with this girl a few times, casual sex after random encounters at a nightclub hangout. She was centerfold gorgeous with legs longer than mine and a blinding smile. Our last rendezvous had been over a month ago.

  “How’ve you been?”

  “Good. How about you?” I stood there, feeling guilty but not sure why. We’d never gone on a date, never exchanged phone numbers, and never set any expectations beyond mutual gratification. I didn’t even know her last name. In retrospect, it seemed cheap and shallow, a veiled attempt to satisfy my physical needs without emotional detachment. Before marrying Dakota, I hated guys like me. Reconnecting with her made me see who I’d become. I loathed what I saw.

  “Fine. Busy,” she said. The stilted awkwardness of our conversation lingered in the air between us. Even though we’d seen each other naked in a variety of embarrassing positions, our discomfort was palpable. She gestured to the quiet girl standing beside her. “This is my friend, Lauren. Lauren, this is Sam.” Cadence blinked her gaze to Tuck, eyes bright with interest. He said I was the one who got all the girls, but in truth, it was him.

  I hesitated, words forming a knot in my throat. The need to excuse my bad behavior welled up inside my head. I had no idea how to begin an apology of this kind.

  “Don’t mind him. He’s got no manners. I’m Tuck, and this is Beckett.” Tuck extended his hand to Cadence. They exchanged a long look between each other. In that moment, I knew I’d lost another one to him but didn’t care. I’d fucked this gorgeous girl six ways from Sunday, but all I could think about was how Dakota’s hair was longer, her lips fuller, and eyes prettier than this girl’s. Fuck. I scraped a hand over my face, trying to remove the images and failing miserably. The reality of the situation glared at me. Even when Dakota was gone, I still carried her with me. I guess I always had.

  CHAPTER 15

  Dakota - Now

  ON FRIDAY, I wore a gray jersey knit dress that hugged all my best features and skimmed over the less desirable ones. While the dress had a conservative neckline, the clingy fabric made my breasts look higher and fuller than they actually were. Beneath the dress, I wore a silky pair of thigh-high stockings, sans panties. The silk rubbed against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs every time I took a step. I felt decadent and naughty, and the sensation gave me new confidence.

  When Sam called me into the conference room to go over our schedule for the day, I sat down next to him and made sure he got a peek at the elastic of the stockings through the slit in the skirt. His Adam’s apple bobbed when I uncrossed and crossed my legs for a third then fourth time. I pretended not to notice, but it gave me a modicum of satisfaction, especially when he asked me to pick up his t
uxedo from the dry cleaners on the opposite side of the city in under thirty minutes.

  “You’re kidding me,” I said. “There’s no way I can make it over there and back in less than hour.” I swore he did things like that just to test my limits.

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion on the matter.” His eyes gleamed with challenge, one I readily accepted. As uncomfortable as our relationship might be, I was beginning to enjoy the rub between us.

  “In case you weren’t aware, I’m not your personal assistant,” I said in a pleasant, conversational tone. “Maybe you should ask Valerie or Sadie to run your errands for you. Or here’s an idea,” I added brightly. “Maybe you could hire someone to babysit you.”

  “Are you refusing an assignment, Ms. Atwell?” he asked. One corner of his mouth curled up in sadistic amusement. “Because that could be considered insubordination. And I do believe your contract has a clause allowing for your dismissal without remuneration in such a case.”

  We stared at each other. His eyes met mine, relentless and smoldering. Heat crept through my limbs, starting in my fingers and coursing all the way to my toes. I admired adversarial Sam, the way his jaw ticked with irritation and his nostrils flared like a cat scenting its prey. He was all alpha, all male, and sexy as hell.

  “Why do you need a tuxedo in the middle of the day anyway? Do you have some kind of formal lunch or something?” I toyed with chain around my neck, enjoying the way his focus lingered on my fingers. “Because it’s not on the agenda for today.”

  “None of your business, Ms. Atwell.” He blinked up to my lips then my eyes. The intensity of his gaze made my pulse flutter. For the briefest second, I wondered how it would feel to be kissed again by those lips, if he still tasted of mint, if his mouth was as soft as I remembered. A dull ache of need throbbed between my legs. I uncrossed my legs again and stood.