“Yup, they were actually relieved because as it turned out, all of their merchandise hadn’t arrived.”
“And that’s rescheduled for next Tuesday?”
“Ten a.m.”
“Perfect. Oh, one sec, Shauna,” I blurted, surprised by the knock I heard at my front door.
Moving from my office down the hall to the door, I yelled, “Who is it?”
“FedEx! Delivery for Resha McDonald.”
I peered through the peephole and was satisfied when I saw the usual delivery guy at my door.
“Oh wow,” I exclaimed as I pulled open the door and saw a beautiful bouquet of pink and white lilies in a glass vase.
“Just need you to sign here.”
Grinning, I took the pen from John, my delivery guy, as my heart rate quickened. “I wonder who these are from,” I questioned out loud, picturing a certain six-foot-six, blond-haired, second generation Irishman, in spite of myself.
“Thanks, John,” I stated after giving him a tip.
He nodded his head and tossed me a friendly smile before heading in the direction of the elevator.
I closed my door with my foot and held the vase in one arm as I locked the door. Holding the vase out in front of me so I could admire the beautiful petals of the flowers, I headed back down the hall to my office.
“Look at those. And lilies are your favorite,” Shauna gushed.
“I know.”
“Who’re they from?”
“I dunno, let me check.” I sat the vase down, turning it a little to find the card. Spotting it, I plucked it from the middle of the bouquet and opened the cream-colored envelope.
I’m sorry about that awful encounter you had last week. I hope these lilies bring you some comfort.
-S
A cold chill ran down my spine, extending out to all four of my limbs.
“Shit!” I yelped when the feeling in my arms caused them to give out, nearly dropping the vase to the ground. Luckily, I stood close enough to the desk that the vase fell on it instead of the floor where it surely would’ve broken.
“Well, who’s it from?” Shauna questioned happily.
“What? Um, oh, uh, from that makeup brand I did a campaign with last month.”
“That was so sweet of them. For a second, I thought you had a secret admirer,” Shauna giggled.
“No, not that,” I mumbled, moving the vase as far away from me as possible. I’d throw them out as soon as I was off the call with Shauna.
“What else is on our agenda?” I questioned to speed this call along so I could be rid of the bouquet I’d thought was so beautiful just a few moments earlier.
“Let’s see, payment from that shoe brand you worked with months ago finally came in.”
I nodded, only half paying attention to Shauna. While I was able to maintain my end of the conversation, my mind still wondered who the hell was behind sending me those damn flowers.
“That’s it for the week. Talk next Monday?” Shauna finally said about thirty minutes later.
Nodding, I told Shauna good-bye before disconnecting the call. The next thing I knew, I was in the kitchen, tossing out the bouquet, but that didn’t feel complete enough. I didn’t want these flowers in my home, at all. So, I tied up the garbage bag I’d discarded the flowers and vase in, slipped my feet into my slippers, and headed out my front door, and down the hall to the trash shoot. Opening the door, I tossed the garbage bag down the shoot and heard it make a plopping sound as it landed in the huge trash holder at the bottom.
“Resha.”
I groaned inwardly as I spun around to see Jarvis, my neighbor, grinning in my direction. He looked as if he’d made a special diversion from unlocking his front door to move in my direction as soon as he saw me.
“Hey, Jarvis. How’s it going?” I mumbled, not wanting to come across rude.
“Better now that I’ve seen your beautiful face.”
My eyes widened in horror at his obvious yet oblivious attempt at flirtation. “Uh, okay. Well, hope you have a great day.” I tried to scurry past Jarvis but apparently that was a no-go because he stepped directly in front of me, blocking my pathway.
“Resha, I was wondering if you would like to go out to dinner sometime? Nothing too fancy, heck, maybe even at my place?” His dark brown eyes narrowed and he seemed to leer at me, awaiting my answer.
I began shaking my head almost instantly. “I’m sorry, Jarvis, but that wouldn’t be possible.”
“Why not?” He frowned.
Why the hell can’t he just take no for an answer? I glanced back over my shoulder, looking at the closed door of the trash room, and remembered the flowers.
“Jarvis, do you, uh, do you know what my favorite flowers are?”
He seemed stunned by my question. “Flowers, uh, roses, right? Every woman likes roses.”
I shook my head, almost feeling relieved. “Yeah, sure. Look, Jarvis, I’ve gotta go. Thanks for the invite but I won’t be taking you up on it.” Ever. “Enjoy your day.”
Stepping around Jarvis, I made a beeline for my door, thankful that I’d left it unlocked to easily move inside without having to insert my key. Relief flooded me once I was back inside of my own home, but not for long. Being around Jarvis always seemed to creep me out, but add to that whomever had been sending me strange emails and DMs now sent me something directly to my front door. They knew where I lived. And how did he know about the attack the previous week?
I hadn’t told anyone except for Destiny … hell, I hadn’t even told her. Connor had. My Aunt Donna wasn’t even aware, since I’d begged Destiny not to tell her.
I paced my living room floor, feeling super uneasy in my own home. The worst feeling one could imagine. I’d lived uneasy in the place I called home as a young child and it was something I never wanted to go back to.
Making a decision, I called down to the front desk of my building.
“Yes, Ms. McDonald,” the receptionist answered. Every resident had their name and number programmed to come up when we called downstairs.
“Yes, could you please have all deliverymen removed from my ‘allow’ list. I’d like a call from the front desk to come down if I have anymore deliveries.”
“Sure thing. Anything else I can do for you today?”
“No, that’s it. Thank you.”
Hanging up the phone, I felt a little easier. My building was secure and had cameras just about everywhere, except the garage, which was the building’s worst kept secret. Management insisted they were working to fix that problem as soon as possible.
I re-entered my office and sat down to do some work but what I ended up doing was picking up the phone and dialing Kayla’s phone number. I knew she was working at the women’s shelter that morning.
“Hey, Resha? Everything okay? How are you feeling?”
I pulled the phone from my ear, looking at it because of the concern I heard in Kayla’s voice. “Feeling?”
“Yeah, we heard what happened the other night. I chose not to call because Destiny said you were taking some time off to rest and get better.”
I gritted my teeth at my cousin, but to Kayla I said, “I’m feeling much better. Just a little bruising. Nothing to get worked up about. Listen, I wanted to ask you if you knew the address, for uh, Connor’s company, TKO Supplements.” I squeezed my eyes shut, proud of myself for getting the words out.
“Uh, yeah, I think I have it in my phone. Hang on a sec.”
I paused and waited a few heartbeats.
“Here it is. You have a pen?”
“In my hand.”
“The address is …” she rattled off the address and phone number of the office where Connor ran his company out of.
I was surprised to be familiar with the street the building was on. It was only a few blocks over from my home.
“Thank you.”
“Not a problem. Why didn’t you ask Destiny? I’m sure she knew this information as well.”
I stopped short, my m
outh hanging open as I searched my brain for an explanation. “You know, I didn’t even think to ask her. I know Connor and Joshua are such good friends so I figured you would know the information off-hand.”
“You do?”
“Do what?”
“Know how close Joshua and Connor are?”
Again, I was caught off-guard by the question. “Uh, yeah, well, I mean, he was at your daughter’s birthday party. So, I figured … Destiny told me that Joshua doesn’t particularly like having anyone he doesn’t consider family over to his home. And aside from his brothers, parents, and your family, the only non-relatives there were Connor and his other friend, Damon, and his wife, Sandra, and their daughter, Monique. But um … thanks for the info.”
I clasped my hand over my mouth to keep me from talking so damn much. I was starting to sound guilty to my own ears. And I hadn’t even done anything wrong. Sure, the truth was, I knew Destiny likely had the information for Connor that I sought out, especially since he’d obviously been in communication with her to tell her of my attack, but I just didn’t want to ask her.
“You’re welcome. Hey, we’ll see you again soon down here at the shelter, right?”
“Yes, I think I’m scheduled to be there in another two weeks. I wish I could give more time, but—”
“No, please, don’t apologize. We appreciate every minute of your time that you’re able to give us. The ladies all agree on that.”
“Thanks, Kayla. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”
I hung up the phone and moved to my bedroom to change into a pair of my favorite skinny jeans, my suede, cognac-colored thigh-high boots, and an off-the-shoulder black sweater. Thankfully, I’d already done my makeup earlier that morning to take a few headshots of myself. I quickly curled the weave I still wore, making a mental note of the next time I would need to go back to my beautician to get it redone, grabbed my bag, peacoat, and the paper I’d written the information Kayla had given me. I was out the door less than twenty minutes after getting off the phone with her.
I needed something to take my mind off of the events of that morning and heading over to see Connor seemed like the next logical move. Why? I had no idea but I wasn’t going to question it.
****
Connor
“Mr. O’Brien, there’s a Resha McDonald here to see you.”
My head immediately perked up from my desk. “Thanks, Layla. I’ll be right out.” I disconnected the call and frowned, wondering what Resha was doing here at my office, and pissed off that she made her way to me, before I was able to make my way to see her. Ever since getting back in town, it’d been one thing after another. I was getting two and three calls a day from the people over at Jersey’s to discuss operations for my products, dates when my supplements would be available, calls from their lawyers needing me to sign waivers, and all types of shit. That just for my TKO Products. It didn’t include the business I still had to carry out for the gyms, laundromats, and gas stations I owned or partially owned around the city. All before taking care of the Underground fights in and outside of Williamsport.
I was busy, but I still kept myself informed on what was happening with Resha. I didn’t even care that Joshua would call and give me shit whenever I spoke with Tyler to ask him what was happening with Resha. I’d all but insisted he make that nurse he hired stay for an additional twenty-four hours, offering to pay for it myself. He turned that offer down, obviously, but also made sure the nurse stayed until Resha was given the all clear.
I watched her coming down the hallway before she was able to see me. Her cinnamon skin glowed, in spite of the fact that the left side of her face was still swollen. Though, her makeup covered much of the remaining bruising without looking too caked on.
“You look better than the last time I saw ya,” I grunted as I entered the lobby of my office. Leaning my elbow against Layla’s front desk, I let my eyes travel over Resha’s body as she rose from the chair. I especially appreciated the skintight jeans she wore along with the thigh-high boots she wore over them. Suddenly, I wanted to ask if she had more than one pair of these sort of boots but I’d have to save that question until we had some privacy.
“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” she returned.
Dipping my head, I lifted my brows on a smirk. “Take it however you want. Layla, hold my calls.” I jutted my head for Resha to follow me down the hall to my office, shutting the door behind us as she entered.
I watched her from behind as she glanced around at fighting plaques and pictures of me with Buddy and a number of other prominent people in the fighting world.
She stopped short at one of the pictures on my oakwood desk, raising it. “I know him,” she remarked, facing me with a wrinkle in her brow.
Moving closer, I took the picture from her hand. I didn’t miss the tingle that occurred in my hand when my fingers brushed over hers. And I know I saw Resha’s breath hitch ever so slightly, informing me that she felt the same thing.
“Mark.”
“He works for Aaron Townsend, right? I think I’ve seen him at the women’s shelter a time or two.”
I nodded. “He’s my kid brother.”
“No way.” Taking the picture from my hand, she studied it for a moment. “I see he got all the looks in the family.”
I chuckled and moved in closer behind her, trapping her body between mine and the desk. Turning, she lifted her face. That vein in her neck was already beating rapidly. I let my gaze linger there before brushing my fingers across the skin that covered the vein. A tiny gasp escaped her lips.
“Your words say one thing but your body says something entirely different, a stór.”
“What does that mean?”
“What?”
“A stór.”
I blinked, not even realizing I’d used the Irish term of endearment.
“You used it in New York, too.”
I was sure I had. The word seemed to fall from my lips easily when speaking with her. Never had that happened before.
“It’s an Irish term. What’re you doing here?” Stepping back, I placed the picture frame in its original place on my desk.
“You need help.”
My head popped up and my gaze moved to Resha. “Care to elaborate?”
Her lips spread into a knowing smile, and I swear to fucking God I had to fight my own mind to shake loose the image of sliding my cock in between those lips.
“Yes. You need help bad,” she emphasized. “I was looking over your social media pages and it doesn’t look good.”
I groaned. “Not you too.”
“Oh, so I’m not the first one who’s mentioned how crappy your social media marketing is?”
“First one today. And no one has said crappy.”
“But I’m guessing you’ve been told that your social media marketing could use some help, am I correct?”
I frowned.
“Thought so. Anyway, that’s where I come in. I’m a social media pro. Literally.”
“I’ve seen your blog.”
A perfectly arched eyebrow raised and those coffee-colored eyes widened in interest. “Never would’ve mistaken you for having an interest in a plus size fashion blog.”
“Haha,” I intoned with a deadpan expression.
She giggled, which did some funny shit to the inside of my chest.
“Don’t think I’ll forget about you checking out my blog. Anyway … as I said, I was perusing through your posts and I see where you need some major improvement. And I’m willing to help you out. As a thank you.”
I furrowed my brows. “Thank you?”
She nodded. “Yeah, for helping me out and all.”
My scowl deepened. “I already told you, I don’t need a thank you for that shit.”
“Yeah, you don’t need but what if I need it?”
Again, my expression was one of confusion.
She pushed out a heavy breath and bit her bottom lip, appearing as if she didn’t want to reveal what she
was about to say. “Look, I just don’t like owing anyone anything. It’s not how I like to live my life. And what you did for me the other week, though it may not have been a big deal to you, was a big deal to me. Even though you went behind my back and ratted me out to my cousin.” She pointed a finger at my chest, trying to seem angry.
“And I’d do it again, too.”
She rolled those big eyes of hers, and I happened to remember a very similar expression on her face as she rode my cock in New York.
“I’m sure you would. Anyway, it would mean a lot to me if you’d let me help you out.”
“You don’t owe me shit.” I moved in even closer, leaving hardly enough room between our bodies for air to pass through. “But maybe there is something you can do for me,” I growled by her ear, not knowing where my comment had even come from.
A small moan pushed past her lips. My hands dropped to her waist and my fingers crawled underneath the sweater she wore, feeling the soft flesh of her belly. Lowering my head, I nuzzled the space between her neck and shoulder.
“I-I’m celibate.”
I let out a laugh against her skin. “A stór, you haven’t been celibate since the moment you took all nine and a half inches of my cock in New York,” I growled in her ear.
The goosebumps that rose along her skin were a direct response to my words and my hands still prodding her abdomen.
Her resistance was apparent so I made a decision.
“Fine. I’ll take you up on your offer.” I pushed back to stare down at her but kept my hands locked around her waist.
“You will?”
Nodding, I responded, “You seem to know more about this social media shit than I do. My brother and this new company I’m working with have been up my ass about paying more attention to my analytics and whatnot. You think you could help me with that?”
“Of course. I already came up with some ideas on where to start on my way over here. I was also thinking …” By the way she trailed off, I already knew I wasn’t going to like the next words that came out of her mouth. “We’ll need to do a photoshoot.”
That didn’t seem too bad. Maybe I’d begun overreacting.
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