Resisting Redemption

by Amabel Daniels

  Now? He wanted to stand up for her pathetic honor now? As if she were the stellar employee. How hard had she insisted on propriety on that couch, hmm? Not at all? How could she have against such a virile and irresistible man as Grant?

  “Grant,” she said, holding up a hand as she searched for her bag, “seriously, it’s okay. We had a lapse of judgement. I don’t hold it against you.”

  She froze and then spun to face him. “Don’t assume, uh, I didn’t…” Walk of shame? This was the slow sinking in quicksand of humiliation. “I didn’t intend…”

  In two rushed strides, he was in her face. “Lapse of judgement? That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.” Leaning closer, he poked at his chest with a harsh snort. “And believe me, I’ve heard it all. From all kinds of pieces of shit. Don’t lie to me. Don’t you dare belittle or dismiss what we have because of that bitch’s ranting.”

  “What we have?” Roxie rolled her eyes and continued away from him, crouching to her neglected carry-on on the floor. “We have a working arrangement,” she said over her shoulder.

  In a spontaneous flight, she was scooped in his arms and immediately pinned to the couch. His lips were insistent on hers as his hands cradled her face. She gripped him closer and moaned into his kisses. Gentle, slow, and patient brushes of his lips replaced the red-hot hungry demands of kisses. It was too short of heaven. Breaking away, he pecked one last kiss on her chin.

  “We do have a working arrangement,” he said. “And we also have this.”

  Roxie licked her lips, nodding. “True.”

  “And you call this a lapse of judgement?” He quirked a brow.

  She closed her eyes, not trusting herself to refrain from pulling him back down to her. “What should I call this?”

  When he didn’t reply, she stilled her palms from running up and down his chiseled chest. She peeked a glance at him, unprepared to face his still expression of…nothing. Shock? Fear? Guilt? Any or all of them could have caused his speechlessness. When he lowered his gaze to the floor, she squinted. Hurt? She’d hurt him? How? By not declaring he was indeed sexier than sin? Because she wasn’t a more enthusiastic fuck buddy?

  Sue me. If the conditions were any different—if she’d happened to simply meet him one day—there would have been next to no hesitations. But it wasn’t the suggestion of a bruised ego or battered self-esteem she suspected she was witnessing him cover up. Instead, it signaled something of a deeper pain, a personal loss.

  On the coffee table his phone rang. With a sigh, he pushed up and off her, reaching for the device. Saved by the bell…again. Usually loathsome devices, the smartphones were diligent in preventing continuations of messes that morning.

  “Hello?” Grant answered and stalked off, heading in the direction of his opened bag.

  Relieved to be rightfully distracted from Grant’s affection, she lowered to her own carry-on and rummaged for clothes.

  Guess I didn’t need that second room reserved after all. A cringe twisted her face.

  “Shit!” Grant’s hand fished and rooted through his belongings at a faster pace. “Yeah, yes. Thanks, man. We’ll get the next flight. Do not let them start without me.”

  He hung up and let his phone fall to the bag as he shucked off his flannel pants and then hopped on one foot, shoving on new pants.

  Okay, they’d shared some…intimacy on the couch. But Roxie wasn’t immodest enough to simply surrender all and change in front of him.

  “Hurry! Let’s go,” he said as he nearly fell hustling his pants on. “We’re late. We’re beyond fucking late.”

  Roxie spun to check the time on the wall and her eyes could have fallen out of their sockets. No way in hell… Their flight left ten minutes ago. Yes. They truly were beyond effing tardy. Her alarm was set to wake them an hour and a half before check-in. Sure they were preoccupied. They’d made out on the couch for forty-five minutes?

  Heat slid up her skin and she fumbled with her clothes.

  “Shit,” she said under her breath. Modesty no longer mattered, haste did. Pulling a clean shirt over her old one, she rushed to get dressed in a funky frantic dance.

  “How the heck…?” A wince left her lips as she wrangled her bra on under her new shirt.

  “I’m sorry,” Grant said as he chucked his plain white undershirt off. “I shouldn’t have pushed and just taken”—his voice was muffled as he yanked on a new shirt—“liberty to just—”

  “Hey. Takes two to tango. You didn’t take anything from me. You gave to me. And I kissed you first.” She flopped back to the couch, pushing her shorts off. “Never mind. We’re late. Blame me. I’m always the late one.”

  Dressed in a skirt, she tucked her blouse in and dropped to her knees, shoving all her things in her carry-on.

  “We missed our goddamn flight.” Grant continued to gripe as he sat on the coffee table and put on a sock, the other of the pair at the corner of his mouth. “All because—”

  “Grant! Drop it.” She couldn’t take any more dragging through it.

  “Please accept my apology.”

  She held on to his shoulder as she stepped around him, fetching and shoving his garments into his bag. “No. It was an awesome way to wake up. But it’s over.”

  And never happening again. How greedy of me. Didn’t even have a chance to pay back the favor.

  “I mean sorry for missing our flight. I know you’re anxious to get back to Lucy. I promised it was a simple night away for business. And I’m a man of my word.”

  She grinned as she rushed to the table cluttered with their paperwork. His laptop in his case, hers in hers. Documents, notepads, pens, highlighters, she swooped them in her arms in an untidy heap and forced the jumble into her tote. “We missed a flight. Not the end of the world. We’ll get the next one out.”

  When he didn’t grovel with more apologies, she continued. “And blame it on me. Really.” Shame tried to surface in her fretful mind, but she slammed a lid on it. “I clearly couldn’t resist.”

  A snort sounded behind her. “You couldn’t? Wait ’til next time to see who gives in first.”

  Next time? Cocky much? Don’t think so, boss. “Uh huh.”

  “That was only the tip of the iceberg of my desires.”

  “Well, then I guess we should thank Tara for interrupting. Otherwise we’d never get out of Florida.”

  Finished with the fastest and worst packing job ever, she slipped her laptop bag strap over one shoulder, the bulky, mismanaged tote on the other, and slipped her feet in her sandals. Grant collected the carry-ons and other miscellaneous belongings as he opened the door.

  Even if they couldn’t agree on who was responsible for missing their flight, they could be in sync with hustling their asses to the airport.

  And she had to bet he was right. Their kind of heat had the degree of long-roasted embers, slow-burning and searing without pause. If Tara hadn’t called, she would have endeavored to give Grant a taste of the euphoria he’d bestowed upon her. As she caught her breath in the elevator on the ride down to the hotel lobby, she fought a smile as Grant let their bags thump to the floor. Buttoning his shirt, another thought triggered her.

  Why had Tara called?

  Grant nodded at her. “What? What’s on your mind?”

  “Wondering why she called.”

  His ex had become too fond of pestering Roxie. Calling, leaving messages, texting, emailing. All forms of passive communication. Fortunately, she and Grant were too busy to stay available in person at the offices. They were always either on the go at meetings, or glued to conversations on their phones. The lack of physical availability wasn’t intended as a means to avoid Tara at the offices, but it sure as heck helped.

  He shrugged. “You said she’s been bugging you.”

  True. And he’d checked out the emails and messages on her phone himself.

  “Does she know we’re out of town?”

  “If she hadn’t before, she does now,” Grant said. “That w
as Chris calling me the second time. She went to Walter, the chairman—”

  “Her uncle?”

  “Yes, she approached him, demanding we have a collective meeting about Ben’s case. Appears she’s feeling left out.”

  Roxie dropped her jaw and grimaced. “It’s not her case anymore. Ben pretty much ditched her counsel.”

  “Correct. But then again, she’s the chairman’s niece. And she’s well-practiced at pulling stunts like this.”

  Roxie shook her head, following him out of the elevator. How he managed to stay married to her…

  “You check out, I get the car?” he proposed. She nodded, not even looking at him as he took her two bags.

  Striding for the lobby desk, she maintained her focus on her phone. First, reserve the next flight out. Second—she pursed her lips. Missed call from Jaydon? And Sophia. Sophia seldom ever called without leaving a message. Had something happened?

  “How can I help you, miss?” the receptionist said.

  After she stated her intent to check them out of their—his—room and absentmindedly accepted at the extra charges for the late check-out, she killed the few minutes’ wait scrolling through the rest of the alerts on her phone.

  Finished with checking out, she met Grant outside. He’d just pulled up under the awning and she entered the rental car, still reading her phone.

  “I’ve got a hunch why Tara might be worked up,” she said.

  “Because she can imply we spent the night together?”

  “Well, uh, besides that. Wayne’s causing a heck of chaos online. Posted last night about meeting with members of Josh’s case. Hints at the case reopening. Said he’s being questioned about his involvement in Josh’s life.”

  Grant groaned as he drove to the airport. “We don’t need him exaggerating anything.”

  “Still trying to mooch some fame and press off Josh’s name, it seems.”

  Of course the police weren’t re-opening anything. The DA had pressed charges and Ben was waiting in jail for trial because of them. Leave it to Wayne to blab about it on all forms of social media as though some hot new development was changing the game.

  “Mentioned Kylie, Jaydon. Even Dave.” She slid her finger along the screen, summarizing the outburst of news overnight. “Couple headlines popped up. CNN. People. Guess he got tongues wagging, all right. Jaydon called me at some time too. Maybe he’s curious about this soundbite.”

  Grant shook his head.

  “Maybe Tara went crying to her uncle because she’s missing out on all this celebrity name-dropping. Not her case anymore and she regrets it.”

  “I doubt she regrets it. Have you already forgotten about her sucking off the DA?”

  Scorn and bitterness laced his tone and she wished she could comfort him. He was caught, in too many ways, like an unwilling contestant on Jerry Springer in his own workplace.

  “Anyway. That’s what Chris called for. Got word of this impromptu meeting and he knew we weren’t in town. He’ll hold them off from starting without us.”

  “I got us the next flight out.”

  “Perfect. He said Walter is in court right now, so we should make it just in time.”

  Once they arrived at the airport and deposited the rental at the lot, they boarded and settled in their seats. Just before she tucked her phone into her tote prior to takeoff, Roxie recalled Sophia’s call. Maybe she’d simply wanted to say good morning.

  After three dials, Sophia answered. Or tried to. It could have been an actress on a cough suppressant commercial who had hijacked her body.

  “H-lo?” Roxie winced and held the phone from her ear at the coarse hacking coughs from the other end.

  “Sophia? You okay?” Brilliant question, Rox.

  “Been better. You back in Atlanta yet?”

  “No. There was a…snafu with the flight.” She avoided Grant’s raised brows at her side. “We’re about to take off now.”

  “I’ve got to get to the doctor. My throat. Lungs. I can’t stop coughing.”

  “How long has it been going on?”

  “This morning. Tickled a bit last night when I went to bed.”

  “Temperature? Headache? Any discharge?” Roxie asked, unable to disregard her medical training.

  Grant nudged her elbow. “Lucy?”

  She shook her head.

  Sophia sounded off some chest-rattling sounds before she could answer. “No and no. Well, headache a bit from the coughing now. Some discharge, but not much blood. I’m terrified to get close to Lucy.”

  Not much blood? Soph…Roxie gnawed on her lip. “Where is she?”

  “Pack-n-play. In the living room. Playing and babbling and sipping milk. I’ve got the monitor up so I can watch her, but I refuse to be in the room. Covering my face with a towel when I gotta tend to her. Don’t want to give her anything.”

  Roxie nodded, pointless because Sophia couldn’t see her. She had to get Lucy and take Sophia to the doctor.

  “I don’t know what else to do,” Sophia said.

  Ditto. Guilt and fear clashed. On one hand, Roxie felt like the worst semi-relative for burdening Sophia with the responsibility of babysitting Lucy. She, as Lucy’s mother, should have that role. And on the other, she worried about her daughter contacting a communicable respiratory ailment. There was no winning.

  “I’ll, I’ll figure something out. Just take it easy. Don’t worry. We’ll land in an hour or so. I’ll call you as soon as we’re back.” She drummed her fingers on her thigh. “I’ll… I’ve got this. In the meantime, drink water. Call the clinic. And just keep an eye on her via the monitor.”

  “Ma’am—” a flight attendant neared them.

  Roxie nodded at her, acknowledging the polite mandate to shut her phone off.

  “Okay?” Roxie asked.

  “’Course, girl. Safe flight.” Sophia hung up with the trailing barks of coughing.

  Grant gripped Roxie’s still-drumming fingers and squeezed. “Talk to me.”

  Was that a demand? Just because he’d brought her a much-needed and exquisite orgasm this morning, he had the authority to insist on barging in her life?

  She faced him, ready with a retort and defensive quip, but there was no use. Taking in the serious lines on his face, he expressed something that could only be explained as concern.

  “Sophia. She’s got…” Roxie sighed and shook her head. “Maybe a cold? Virus? Coughing up mucus and blood.”

  “Lucy too?”

  Roxie shook her head. “No. Not yet. Fingers crossed. She’s in the other room and Soph’s limiting her contact with her out of fear of contaminating her. She used to smoke. A lot. Well, all kinds of recreational drugs.” Roxie rubbed at her temples. “She lived on communes back in the day, before she moved back with Hazel and Rory. Classic hippie. She’s had respiratory issues before. But this is sudden.”

  There was no way out of it. She had to get Lucy. Send Sophia for urgent medical attention. Then find a daycare center or something. Acid churned in her stomach. She couldn’t return to the offices with Grant and simply work. “I can’t—”

  “You can,” he said.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.” At least let me explain how I’ll fail you as your assistant before you judge me.

  “Go get Lucy. You can bring her to the office.”

  “Bring her?”

  “Yes. She won’t be in the way. You can’t leave her with Sophia.”

  She crossed her arms. “Bring Lucy to the office.”

  Grant rubbed the pad of his thumb on her knuckle. “She’s been there for a little bit before.”

  For part of the day, sure, and that had been an easy afternoon. Not the day of a shitstorm brewed by his pissed-off ex-wife and a too-chatty movie star. Marcus was due to come talk to them. Grant had three hours blocked off for discussing Josh’s finances. She needed to call Jaydon back. There was the whole sordid love-affair-tryst between Wayne and Kylie to study. Then they still n
eeded to plan for reviewing… Ugh. No, today was shaping up to be an exceptionally stressful and hectic one.

  “Yeah, bring her to this dreadful meeting. That will go well,” she said.

  He shook his head. “We land. I’ll go to the meeting. You take my car and get Lucy, drive Sophia to her doctor. Bring enough materials to keep Lucy happy at my office, and we’ll work from there.”

  When she opened her mouth to argue, he rushed on. “We can do this. All our meetings are at the firm. You’ve said before she’s a good baby.”

  We. Not ‘you’. Or ‘I’. ‘We’ was starting to sound natural when it came to her and Grant.

  “I’m not so sure I want Lucy in the vicinity of Tara.”

  He heaved a heavy exhalation of air. “She will not come near us. Worst case, if hell breaks loose, I’ll call my sister to help.”

  What, as a babysitter? A woman she didn’t know and should somehow automatically trust with her daughter?

  “She’s been an ER nurse for years, nearly complete with training as an EMT. Kel can handle Lucy like a pro.”

  Roxie groaned. It was unavoidable. Sophia couldn’t be her only rock. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

  “Is this that crap about you proving you can do your job again? Save it, Rox. I need your help with this. I need your help, period. If you’re worried about Lucy, then I’m worried about you—and her. If I’m worried about you, I’m not able to help Ben. Cause and effect. Let me help.”

  Please don’t let me fall completely in love with you. I can’t be that stupid.

  She nodded and squeezed his hand in return. “Okay. You tough out the meeting, I get Lucy. Then we work.”

  Grant seemed to release tension in one long exhale of air.

  “Wait. Shouldn’t I be at this meeting?” Uncomfortable, she fidgeted with her hair. “I mean, if Tara’s on some rampage and spouts off about fraternizing with employees—”

  His bark of laughter cut through the air. “Then what grounds does she have to stand on? Walter might be her uncle, but he’s aware of her infidelities, particularly with Stuart.” He gripped her thigh. “I can handle Tara. She has no room to talk and our personal lives are not her business. End of story.”