by Claire Adams
Jacob. The name still sent ripples down my spine, only not in the delightful, weak-at-the-knees way it once had. Those warm and fuzzy ripples had morphed into chills of dread, of anger, of pain.
I shook the thought of him from my mind. I couldn't allow his memory to snake its way into my world. I had to focus on work. At the rate it was going, it seemed as if I would be there until well after midnight, only to have to start again at 8:00 a.m. the next day. I tried to force my thoughts back to something productive. Just as I was succeeding, however, my phone rang.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Who the hell is calling me now? How am I going to get all this work done tonight?”
I picked up the phone with the intention of cutting off the call and switching the device off so I wouldn't be bothered again, but then I saw who was calling.
I smiled and answered. “Eddie! How’s my favorite sibling?”
“Great, Peanut, just great. We just laid down an epic track for the new album. I think it could be one of the singles.”
“That's awesome!”
“Yeah, I’m pretty stoked. That’s why I’m calling. I was wondering if you wanted to come out with me and the guys to have a beer or two to celebrate?”
“Aw, Ed, I'd love to, but there's no way I can make it tonight.”
“Why?”
“I'm swamped with work. It's seriously looking like I'm gonna be at the office until well after midnight.”
“Oh, bummer. So that's how it's been your first few days of working for the big shot, huh?”
“Well, yeah, kinda.”
“You regretting that decision?”
I thought about this for a moment before answering.
“Actually, no. I wanted a challenge, and a challenge is exactly what I am getting. It's tough, but I feel like eventually things will start to fall into place and it'll feel more like a breeze than a hurricane.”
“I hope so, sis. I know you’re used to stress and pressure, and that you thrive under them, but like anything in life, too much of 'em will kill ya in the end.”
“I know, I know. But I’ve got this. It’s just a learning curve.”
“I know you do. You always do. All right, well, I won't keep you any longer. Good luck with the rest of the night. We’ll talk soon. Love ya.”
“Love you, too, Eddie.”
I hung up the call and turned the phone off. There was no one else I’d have answered a call from at that time of night, so there was no need to even give anyone the option to distract me.
I glared down at the papers strewn across my desk and drew in a deep breath, then exhaled. I was already feeling like a bit of a zombie, so I decided to go down the hall and make myself a strong cup of coffee in the lounge. I was going to need a good caffeine boost to get myself through the next few hours.
I left my office and headed down the hallway. As I turned the corner at the end, I collided with what felt like a padded wall. I almost lost my balance, but a pair of muscled arms quickly wrapped around me. I immediately looked up and found myself staring into those mesmerizing eyes I’d been trying to forget.
“Asher!” I exclaimed. “You scared the hell out of me!”
He chuckled. “The feeling's mutual! What are you doing here at this hour?”
“I, uh, well . . . working. There's so much I have to finish before tomorrow just to stay close to on schedule and, if I add tomorrow's workload to this one, it just means I'm not going to be sleeping at all tomorrow night and—”
“Hang on, hang on,” he said, holding up a finger to silence me. “Mind if I take a look at what you've done so far?”
“Um, well, it's not quite finished yet, and—”
“That's perfectly fine. I just want to see what kind of progress you've made.”
I realized I couldn't really say no. He was, after all, the CEO.
“All right, let me just make a cup of coffee, and then I’ll meet you in my office to have a look at it.”
“Hold off on that coffee for now. It's not gonna do you any favors when later tonight when you're lying in bed wired, unable to sleep, and knowing you have to be back here in a few hours.”
“But, Asher, I need to finish—”
He cut me short again. “Just let me take a look first. I'll be the judge of whether you need to keep going tonight, all right?”
“All right,” I conceded, turning around to lead him to my office.
He sat down at my desk and skimmed over my work while I stood behind him, feeling more and more nervous with each passing minute. After what felt like an eternity, he swung the chair around and stood.
“I don't think you need to do anything else here tonight, Lilah,” he said. “What you've already done is good—better than good, really.” His eyes focused on mine and his expression softened. “Look, I realize there's a lot of pressure on you right now, especially in these first few days since you're just learning the ropes, and I know I've tossed you right into the deep end without a life preserver.”
“I—” I began, but he held up a hand to silence me once more.
“You don't need to say anything, Lilah. You're doing an excellent job. I think the issue here is me. I've been a bit too demanding with the deadlines on this campaign, so let me give you an extra day to get it done. How does that sound?”
I hesitated before answering. Of course, with all the stress and pressure, I was tempted to just agree, but what if it was a test of some sort? What if he was testing me to see how much resolve and grit I had, or how badly I really did want the job?
“I appreciate that, but no thanks,” I said, stiffening my resolve. “I can handle this, and I can get it done within the specified time.”
He smiled sympathetically. “This is not a test, Lilah. I'm not trying to see how committed you are to Sinclair and your new position. I really was too ambitious with the deadline. I didn't take into account that you're still finding your footing here, learning the ropes, and getting a feel for our processes. Granted, I do expect an immense amount of hard work and dedication from you, that much is true.
“I don't, however, expect you to work yourself into a hospital bed or worse. I'm a strict man and I have high expectations, but I'm no slave driver. So, as your boss, I'm telling you, for your own health and well-being, that the deadline has been extended by a day. And that's the final word on that.”
I nodded, quietly relieved that I'd been given the extra time to complete my work.
“Thank you,” I responded. “I appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it. I know how much of a killer stress and working too much can be—it's what sent my grandfather to an early grave.”
“I'm sorry to hear that.”
His smile faded. “That’s kind of you. It's been many years since he passed, but I do still miss him.” His gaze lowered to the floor.
There was a moment of somewhat uncomfortable silence between us before Asher looked up at me. The somber look that had darkened his face earlier was gone, replaced now by a warm, inviting smile.
“Say, have you eaten dinner yet?”
“I have not,” I replied. “In fact, I've been so focused on this project that I haven't had a moment to even think about food. I’m actually realizing that I haven’t eaten since Jessica brought those cookies around just before lunch.”
“Well, that won't do. Not that those cookies weren’t amazing. They were. But, I'm a big believer in the power of nutrition, Lilah. We can't afford to neglect our bodies as we obsess over work—and yes, doing exactly that is something that I'm guilty of myself, so I know how you feel. Listen, how about we get dinner? I was just about to head out to grab a bite to eat myself. How do you feel about Greek food?”
I smiled. “I love it,” I exclaimed, feeling an immediate flush of embarrassment at my bubbly enthusiasm.
He chuckled. “Excellent. That makes two of us. I just have a few things to finish up in my office. I'll call my driver and arrange for him to pick us up in half an hour downstair
s. Sound good?”
“Sure, sounds like a plan,” I responded.
***
“That was some of the best hummus I've ever had,” I said. “I can't believe I've never been to this place before.”
“It's great, isn't it? Hey, how about another glass of wine?” Asher asked as he poured himself a bit more of the dry red he pulled from the ice bucket next to our table.
I was definitely feeling the effects of the wine we'd already had. He was pouring from the second bottle of the night and it was almost empty. My head was starting to swim, and I sensed that it was affecting Asher, as well. His speech was sounding a bit slurred and his eyes were looking a tad glossy. He'd told me before we started dinner that he rarely drank alcohol, for health reasons, although I suspected it had more to do with the fact that he didn't like losing control and letting his defenses down. Aside from the occasional beer with Eddie, or going out with my friends every now and then, I wasn't much of a drinker myself—yet there we were, almost two bottles in.
The wine had just flowed quickly and easily. We'd been chatting non-stop since we'd arrived at the restaurant, and the conversation had flowed as smoothly as the wine had. It had been hard to decline every offer of a fresh glass, so when he offered me yet another refill, I took him up on it.
“Thank you,” I said politely. But I couldn't help letting out a giggle as he almost knocked the bottle over.
“Oops,” he said with a nervous laugh. “Nearly made a mess there!”
He filled my glass with the last of the second bottle. We raised our glasses and clinked them with a smile passing between us.
“To your future at Sinclair,” he said.
“To my future at Sinclair,” I repeated before taking a hefty swig of wine.
We continued to chat until our glasses were empty.
“Would you like—” he began, his eyes sparkling with a suggestive glint.
“I don’t think more wine is a good idea for me. I really need to get home,” I interrupted. I wasn’t sure wine was what he was about to suggest, but I wasn’t about to assume or open that door wider. “I'm exhausted.”
He nodded. “Yes. Less wine, more sleep. That's probably for the best.”
“We both have a lot of work to do tomorrow, and trying to get it done with a hangover will make for a pretty awful day. I think I've had about as much wine as I can handle.”
“Yes. I wouldn't want to miss my morning workouts, either.”
“Wait,” I slurred. “Did you say workouts? As in plural? You do more than one?”
“I'm up at 5:00 every morning. I’m in the gym for an hour, and then later in the morning, I train with a Muay Thai master.”
“Muay Thai?”
“Thai kickboxing. That's where this little souvenir came from,” he said, pointing at the bruise and mostly-healed cut on his cheekbone.
I'd been wondering how he'd got it, but hadn't mustered the courage to ask. “Oh. That sounds pretty intense.”
“It is. But that's the way I like it. I'm a man who likes to push himself, Lilah—in all fields of activity,” he informed me, his eye locked on mine.
“I see.” Heat flushed through me at the insinuation and the intensity of the connection between us.
“All right,” he said abruptly, “let me take care of the bill, and then I'll get my driver to pick us up. We'll drop you off at your place.”
“That sounds great, thanks.”
***
Thirty minutes later, Asher's Rolls-Royce pulled up outside my building. A tinge of regret crept through me at the thought that what had turned out to be a wonderful evening was coming to a close.
Asher and I had been talking and laughing endlessly. On the ride back from the restaurant, there had been a few moments where we'd stared a little too long into each other's eyes, only for one of us to break the moment with an awkward laugh, abrupt turn of the head, or hasty comment.
I wasn't sure what was going on, but I couldn't deny that I was enjoying it.
Asher's driver opened the door for us to get out of the car. When I did, I stumbled on the sidewalk and almost fell. I was definitely feeling more than a little intoxicated. I giggled and heard Asher chuckle behind me.
“Hey!” I exclaimed. “That’s not very gentlemanly of you! Laughing at a lady when she almost injures herself!”
“My apologies, m’lady. That's not what I was laughing at,” he said as he climbed out of the car. “Look down.”
I stared at the sidewalk, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. “I don't see anything funny down there.”
“No, not there. Here!” He pointed at his feet.
It took a few seconds for me to realize that his shoes were gone and he was standing on the sidewalk in his socks. I burst out laughing at the sight.
“Where on Earth are your shoes?” I exclaimed, still laughing.
“Back in the restaurant, I think!” he said with a grin.
“Why would your shoes be at the restaurant?” I asked between fits of laughter.
“I took them off under the table. They weren’t very comfy. They were brand new, so they hadn’t been broken in. They’d really been kinda uncomfortable all day. I sort of remember taking them off. Guess I forgot to put them back on!”
We both burst into a bout of laughter.
“Would you like to take my shoes, sir?” asked the driver.
“No, no, Alfred,” replied Asher. “I'll walk this fine young lady to the lobby in my socks. I’ll be all right.”
Again, we both burst out laughing. Asher, however, quickly put on a serious face and then held his arm out for me to take.
“Come on, I'll walk you to the lobby,” he said in an uncharacteristically gentle tone of voice.
I slipped my arm through his and immediately felt hot energy passing from his skin to mine. He placed his other hand on mine with a gentle tightness that sent a shiver of subtle pleasure down my spine as we walked.
I leaned in and whispered, “Did you just call your driver Alfred?”
A broad smile grew across Asher’s face. “I did.”
“Hmmm,” I offered with a grin.
“You want to know if I’m Batman, don’t you?”
I chuckled. “Nope.”
“No?” he looked genuinely surprised. “Why not? Everyone asks that when they learn my driver’s name. It’s why I hired him.” He offered a smug smile.
“If you’re Batman, then the less I know, the better,” I said matter-of-factly.
“Smart girl,” he replied.
We reached the entrance to my building and paused at the doorway.
“Thank you for dinner,” I said as I turned to face him.
“You are more than welcome. I had a really great time with you tonight,” Asher said.
“As did I.”
Our eyes met, and I found myself moving closer to him.
“Do you . . . think we had a bit too much wine?” I whispered.
“Maybe. But I’m feeling pretty good right now,” his words were soft as he shifted closer to me. Slowly, his fingertips slid up my arm and his hands each came to rest on either side of my face. I didn't resist, I didn't want to resist. Every fiber of my being wanted him to kiss me at that moment.
Moments later, his supple lips covered mine. As the kiss deepened, I could have sworn I felt lights exploding behind my eyes. With one hand, he ran his fingers through my hair. The other eased down and wrapped around my waist, pulling our bodies together. I rose on tiptoes so I could wrap my arms around his broad, strong shoulders. His kiss was tender but passionate, melting my resolve. Deep down, I knew it was a bad idea to be kissing this beautiful man, but the heat of his mouth on mine was more than I was able to pull away from.
Eventually, our lips parted and we simply stood with our arms around each other, foreheads touching, both breathing heavily. We stared into each other's eyes for a while, smoldering heat still passing between us. I knew I had to step in and cool things off before anything
else happened that we’d both regret. I broke the silence.
“I . . . uh . . . Wow,” I said, somewhat awkwardly.
“Yeah,” he said, taking a step back, breaking the bond our bodies had formed. “I didn't, uh, I didn't plan on that happening.”
“I'd better get upstairs,” I said as I disengaged completely from our embrace. “We've got a long day tomorrow, and I need a decent night's sleep.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.” His body language shifted quickly the moment I stepped away from him.
“Thank you again for a lovely evening, Asher. It was fun. I'll see you at the office tomorrow.”
“Yes, of course,” he said, looking like a guilty kid who’d stolen candy from a jar he wasn’t supposed to have his hand in.
It was adorable, really. So much so, before I realized what I was doing, I leaned in abruptly and kissed him again, but made sure to pull back before it became as intense as the previous one.
“Thanks again,” I said with a smile. And with that, I turned quickly on my heels and hurried into my building, leaving Asher standing on the sidewalk grinning in his socks.
Chapter Five
Asher
I woke up at 5:00 a.m., as I always did, but getting out of bed was a lot more difficult than it normally was. My mouth felt dry and a dull pain throbbed in my head. As I heaved myself out of bed, a wave of nausea threatened my system.
Hangovers: my main reason for avoiding alcohol. I staggered across my bedroom to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face to try to rouse myself from the foggy haze I felt trapped in.
Another wave of nausea hit me, but it seemed to pass quickly. I started to feel better after I splashed a bit more water on my face and brushed my teeth. I knew that a green smoothie would sort me out and make me feel better as well, so I buzzed my chef and told him that I needed one stat.
Make no mistake, I had no regrets about all of the wine I drank the night before. I'd had a wonderful evening with Lilah.
