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Carter
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I lift the drink to my mouth and smile at my friend when he cracks not only a rare joke, but a rare smile. Lincoln Silverstone is such a serious dude, but he’s also a good friend.
“Who knew you were such a funny guy?” I ask, lightly punching Lincoln in the arm.
He looks down at his arm, then back to me. He almost looks confused. “I’m not. I heard that joke at our Christmas party last year. Everyone laughed so I tucked it away for when I was at a social event and there was a lull in conversation.”
Did I mention Lincoln is also very blunt? No real gray areas with him. He says what he means and means what he says. I fucking love it.
“Well, did you find it funny yourself?” our other friend, Declan Kelley, asks.
Lincoln ponders the question and then shakes his head. “No, not really.”
I chuckle. Typical Lincoln.
“Well, I thought it was fucking hilarious,” Declan says, shooting back the last of his scotch. He signals the server for another. I think he just wants to talk to her again.
The country club has the best looking employees, from the restaurant bar, where we are now enjoying post-game cocktails, to the lifeguards at the pool and the cabana girls. I move my gaze out of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the golf course. The sky’s as blue as ever with a smattering of thick, pure white clouds, making the green of the course look almost neon. Lincoln and Declan had both kicked my ass by the 18th hole, but I didn’t care. Playing golf on a warm, sunny Sunday afternoon with the backdrop of the mountains is just about as close to heaven as it’ll get for me. I hate winter for the simple fact that I can’t golf. Having snow and ice on the course is a real drag.
“Another one, honey?” the server asks Declan. He looks at her tits spilling out of her low-cut shirt a little longer than appropriate, then smiles up at her. “Yes, ma’am.”
She giggles a little and I resist an eyeroll. Then, she looks at Lincoln, then me. “You two good?”
I drain my glass and lift it slightly. “I’ll take another. And could you bring us that big cheese and meat platter thing as well?”
She winks at me. “The Big Putter Charcuterie? You got it.”
Lincoln puts his hand over his still-full glass and shakes his head. “I’m good.”
She beams a smile and flounces off while we watch her in her short white skirt. For some reason, the servers all dress like they’re going to a tennis match. Kind of goes with the country club vibe and of course none of us are complaining.
After she walks away, Declan lifts his glass and asks, “So, where’s the club at this month?”
He is, of course, speaking about the rotating sex club—the Mile High Rooms. Thankfully he had enough couth to keep his voice down when he asked.
I shake my head. “Not sure. Jim sends me the info around the first of the month.”
“I hope the Cate twins are there this time. Wish I could reserve them in advance,” Declan says, a far-off look on his face.
“Twins, huh?” Lincoln asks. “Not sure I’ve had two at once.”
“You’d remember, bro,” Declan replies. “These girls are something else. Who’s your favorite?” he asks him.
Lincoln shakes his head. “I don’t utilize the club any longer.” He holds up his left hand. “Married now.”
“I know, I meant before,” Declan says.
“I didn’t go that often. Just every once in a while when I wasn’t in the mood to socialize or deal with women who wanted a date, make small talk, and all of that before getting into bed. Women in general are exhausting.”
Declan and I both laugh. I raise my glass. “You got that right.”
We clink our glasses together. I look at Lincoln. “You guys happy, though? I’ve only met your wife a couple of times. Quinn, right?”
He nods. “Yes, very happy. She’s so easygoing and doesn’t make me talk when I don’t want to. Lord knows that woman always has something to say, so she’s made friends with my brother’s wife and also my cousin’s wife. They’re always gabbing on the phone about the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard. It honestly baffles me how they don’t get worn out.”
We laugh again.
Declan says, “Women don’t ever get tired of talking, man. Especially if it’s gossip. They live for that shit.”
“Well, you should hear her when she gets on the phone with her family down in Alabama. Jeez, they might as well be speaking another language.”
We all chuckle.
“You’re full of comedy today, Linc. I love it.”
“What about kids?” Declan asks. “Gonna have any?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “We agreed two years together before we try. So next year sometime.”
“Practicing is always fun, though,” I say with a wink.
He furrows his brow, then realization dawns. He gifts us with another rare smile. “Absolutely.”
The cute server returns and sets down our charcuterie and some small plates. “Need anything else, just holler!”
We thank her and I immediately grab for some prosciutto and gouda, piling it on a cracker.
Declan grabs a few olives, asparagus, and salami. “This shit is so damn bougie but I love it.”
“Same. Don’t tell Quinn I eat this,” Lincoln comments, piling his plate as well. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”
We continue talking about sports, our golf game, and women.
It’s been a good distraction since I can think of nothing else except Taryn Andrews showing up on Monday morning and how I’m not going to get any work done from this point forward knowing her tight little ass is in the same building for eight hours a day, five days a week.
Maybe I really should start considering that remote work-from-home thing Jeff tried to pitch to me last month.
***
“Come in,” I call out when there’s a knock on my office door.
Briana pops her head in. “Ms. Andrews is here.”
I get up from my seat. I’d tried my damnedest to keep busy all morning to keep my mind off of her first day. She’d arrived promptly at eight, but was busy with HR. Now, it’s time for the CEO to greet her.
I look down, straighten my red tie, and take a quick glance at my reflection in the framed photo of a map of Colorado on my wall, making sure I don’t have a hair out of place.
“You look great, c’mon, boss,” Briana says, biting back a smirk.
“Thanks,” I grumble. “Just want to make sure she knows who’s boss.”
She laughs. “Everyone around here knows who’s boss.”
Taryn waits with Lisa next to her desk in HR. I put on a professional smile but try to hide a real one when I see how breathtaking she looks in a fitted black dress that hugs her curves and some short heels. A little red belt is around her small waist, making her look like an hourglass. I don’t let my gaze linger on her body or pretty face as I shake her hand.
“Welcome to Lockwood Tech. We’re very excited to have you.”
She dips her head with a smile. She looks nervous and nothing like she did at our impromptu dinner and drinks the other night. “Thank you.”
Lisa gives her a short tour of our small office with me trailing behind. I say hello to a few employees, as I rarely leave my office, and once she’s met everyone and shown her cubicle inside the IT department, I make my way back to my office.
“Um, Mr. Lockwood...?”
I turn around. Lisa is already making her way back to HR in front of me, but she stops and we both turn around at Taryn’s question.
I ignore Lisa and say, “Yes, Ms. Andrews? Is there something you need?”
She glances at Lisa, then at me and her cheeks turn a slight shade of pink. “Can I have a word with you privately?”
“Absolutely. Follow me to my office.”
I decide to completely ignore Lisa before she can—
“Do you have additional questions?” Lisa asks, of course butting in.
“No, ma’am. Just wanted to talk to Mr. Lockwood for like five minutes,” Taryn answers.
Lisa glances at me, then back to her. “Do you need me to be there?”
Lady, you’re skating on thin ice...
Taryn shakes her head. “No, I’m good. Thank you, though.”
God, she acts like I’m some dangerous predator who’s going to assault Taryn in my office. It was one slipup with one secretary years ago. Lisa needs to get over it, and I have half a mind to call her into my office after I meet with Taryn to tell her so.
I open the door and gesture for her to enter without even remotely touching her, and then look Lisa in the eye as I close the door, removing her judgy glare from my view.
“What’s up?” I ask with my hands in my pockets so I keep them to myself.
“I just wanted to thank you again for the job. This building is beautiful and I already love my desk and cubicle.”
I bite back a smile. “Okay. Well, I hope you like the work. And your coworkers.”
“I know I will. And I also wanted to say...” She trails off but I patiently wait, still with my hands in my slacks pockets.
My eyes hold hers and the heated confidence in them is starting to turn me on, but I refuse to break eye contact.
“...I hope things won’t be weird with us working together. That’s all.”
“Well, Taryn, I didn’t even think of that,” I lie to make her feel better. “But I promise, no weirdness.”
“What’s going to happen when Eric gets out? Will you guys be friends? Because then I’ll be seeing you outside of work...”
I close the distance between us, taking my hands from my pockets and placing one on her forearm. “I think you’re overthinking this. Let’s just let things progress naturally. If you start to feel uncomfortable working here, you can leave, no hard feelings. Okay?”
She visibly relaxes. “Okay. Thank you.”
I realize I’m still touching her, so I remove my hand. “Anything else?”
She shakes her head. “No, that was it. I feel better now.”
I lightly chuckle. “Good. Now get your ass to work.” My fingers twitch because I’d love so badly to follow it up with a nice, firm smack to her backside for emphasis. But of course, I don’t.
Her eyes widen but a smile tips her lips when she sees the mischief in my gaze and my own smile.
She offers me a weak salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”
She disappears through the door and closes it behind her. I rarely drink at work, but I sneak half a measure of scotch from the credenza and stand in front of my floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the Denver Metro with a fantastic view of the mountains. The Silverstone brothers really made a great decision when they purchased this building. They have to be making a fortune on the rent, too.
I have to admit I’m glad Taryn and I had this little talk. I don’t think I’m going to be good at not flirting with her—it’s just natural when I’m around her—but perhaps we can ease into a good working relationship, and if we see each other outside of work, so be it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Taryn
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My brain hurts. I forgot how much crap you have to shove into your noggin when you’re learning a new job. It’s not just the work either. Remembering people’s names. Passwords to what feels like a hundred different programs. Constantly getting interrupted to help people with computer problems. At least this place has help tickets like the law firm did—this program is just much more efficient and automatically sorts them by time, date, and priority.
It doesn’t seem like they’re going to be teaching me app development anytime soon. I’m doing the gopher work. Like help tickets and fixing software bugs. Installing hardware and software. Basically the same shit I was doing at the law firm. But I’m the new person and they had let the stuff fall by the wayside—I get it. But Jeff assured me once that stuff is caught up, I can start learning new things.
Things with Carter have been... okay. Seeing him as the boss is a massive turn-on. He takes zero shit from anyone but he’s also not a dick to his employees. However, because I know him so well, I can tell who he likes and doesn’t like. He definitely isn’t fond of Lisa, the HR lady, and I don’t blame him. She’s sort of mothering and smothering and has her nose all up in everyone’s shit. I saw the look she gave him when I asked to speak to him privately. She acted like he might do something inappropriate with me and I didn’t like it. Though, I have to wonder why she would think that.
It’s the end of my first week, and I’m more than happy to get out of here. I’m meeting Christa and our other friend Lauryn for dinner and drinks, and I absolutely need it.
I load into the elevator and as it’s closing, I see a large hand push open the doors. I follow the arm up to the face to see Carter.
“Sorry! I just hate waiting for it to go all the way down then all the way back up,” he says with a smile.
“Understandable,” I reply. I again hit the lobby floor button, even though it’s already illuminated, since I’m awkward like that, and watch the numbers on the screen count down.
Being alone with him in here is weird. And giving me romance novel vibes. Secretly making out with my boss in the elevator while no one’s watching.
Is it hot in here?
I glance at my boss.
“So, how was your first week?” he asks as if he’s desperate to break the horrid silence.
“It was awesome. Jeff’s a great boss. Very patient. And had plenty to keep me busy.”
Jeff is my direct supervisor, which means he assigns my workload and does my yearly employee performance evaluations.
“Well, he’s been begging me to hire another person for months. So you can thank him for the opening,” he says rather dryly and impersonal.
“Oh... okay. I will then,” I say with a forced smile.
He doesn’t reply and we ride the rest of the way in heavy silence.
Finally, the elevator reaches 1, then L, indicating the lobby. I can’t wait to get out of here. It’s oppressive and stuffy and the awkwardness is just so damn weird.
God, I need a drink.
“Enjoy your weekend,” he says curtly as he exits the elevator.
“You too. Sir.”
I doubt he heard me, he was walking so fast.
Out of curiosity, I watch as he exits through the front doors of the massive building. I see him stand under the building’s awning. An older man gets out of the car, pops open an umbrella since our normal afternoon rain has really picked up, and heads over to Carter, putting the umbrella over his head and then ushers him into a waiting black town car.
Seriously? He has a driver and can’t be bothered to carry his own umbrella?
Carter, you’re a tool.
I shake my head and walk to the separate set of elevators that take people down to the parking garage.
Vodka is definitely in order tonight. Wine is not going to cut it.
***
Dinner and drinks are great, but we collectively decide we need to go dancing after. To expel some of the week’s stress.
It’s a great decision, too. Both Christa and Lauryn are beside me on the dance floor, shaking their butts to Pitbull rapping through the massive speakers set around the place.
I flinch a little when I feel warm hands come up behind me and land on my hips. I crane my head around to see a tall guy with dark skin and a very nice smile looking down at me. He’s moving in sync with the rhythm, and my body, and I grin up at him.
“Well, hello there,” I say, very tipsy at this point and loving the attention.
“Hey, you sexy thang. I love your moves,” he says in my ear, still gripping me from behind, my backside swaying with his front side.
“Fireball!” I scream, along with the whole club, in unison with Pitbull.
He chuckles and turns me around, gripping my hips as we sway to the upbeat tune. I look over at my friends who are having an equally good time with equally sexy men dancing and touching them.
“What’s your name?” he asks me.
“Taryn, you?”
“Hi, Karen. I’m Deke.”
Common, annoying mistake. “It’s Taryn. With a T, like Tom,” I yell in his ear.
“Oh, sorry, girl.”
I just laugh. “You’re a good dancer.”
“You too!”
Another song comes on and we dance for a while. I’m getting sweaty and my buzz is wearing off. I need water, another drink, and a trip to the bathroom. Once a slow song starts, I tell Deke I had a good time and excuse myself.
My friends do the same and I point to the bathroom sign, where they follow me.
It’s of course packed in here, all the other ladies having the same idea.
“Damn, that was good exercise,” I say with a laugh as I use a paper towel to blot my face while I wait for a stall to open up.
“I got that guy’s number,” Lauryn brags, holding up her phone and wiggling it.
I smile at her. “Nice! He was so cute.”
“What about you?” Christa asks me. “He was hot. Get a number?”
I shake my head. “No. I really don’t want to talk to anyone right now. I need to get my shit together.”
“I get it, girl,” she says, patting me on the back and reaching around me for a paper towel.
After we all relieve ourselves and wash our hands, we head back out into the club area. I order a vodka soda with a lime and buy my friends their fruity cocktails. We sip them slowly and look around. Then, a very popular hip-hop song comes on and we suck down what’s left of our drinks, scream, and head to the dance floor to do it all over again.
***
“Thanks!” I say a little too loud to the Uber driver as he drops me off in front of my condo. I hiccup and climb the stone steps, then realize I haven’t gotten my keys out and ready.
“Shit,” I mumble, setting my purse down the railing at the end of the outdoor hallway that will lead to my door, and fish around until I find my keys. It feels like everything is happening in slow motion.
I head to my condo and stop fast when I see a man standing against my turquoise-painted door, his arms folded across his chest.
“Who the hell are you, and what the hell do you want?” I slur and clumsily fidget with my keys until I have the small pink pepper spray cannister in my hand. I hold it out front and aim it at the guy.
“Fuck, Taryn, put that away. It’s just me.”
My eyes widen when I see Carter step into the light.
“What are you doing here?” I snap. I shoulder-barge my way past him. “Get out of my way. I need the bathroom.”
“You’re drunk,” he says flatly.
“Thanks, captain obvious. Nothing gets past you, does it?” I snort at my stupid joke.
Then, I burst into laughter, thinking I really am hilarious, and put my keys in front of my face, trying to locate the door key.
Carter snatches the entire keyring from me.
“Hey!” I protest.
“Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, putting the key in the door and opening it. He grabs me by my upper arm and manhandles me into the condo, closes the door, then locks it. “Go to the bathroom and change. You smell.”
“Hey!” I protest. “I do not.”
Carter narrows his eyes at me, and just the way he looks at me has me obeying immediately.
After using the bathroom but not changing, I stumble out into the living room.
Carter hands me a bottle of water. “Drink,” he demands.
I look at him, then the bottle, then crack it open and start gulping.
“Slow down or you’ll puke.”
“I’m not a puker,” I protest. Then, I make a gagging noise.
Crap.
He goes into my tiny kitchen, fumbles around in the drawers and cabinets, and comes back with a white bottle and a big silver bowl. He opens the bottle, shakes out two pills, and hands them to me. “Swallow.”
I take them, then grin up at him. “Why, yes, I do.”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head at my foolishness. “I’m serious, Taryn. Take the Tylenol, now. You’ll thank me in the morning.”
“Fine, bossy.” I do as he says, and then he hands me the mixing bowl. “Don’t puke on your furniture. Trust me, it’s a bitch to remove and it’ll smell for weeks.”
“I’m a bitch to remove,” I say, laughing.
He shakes his head again. “You shouldn’t drink so much, you know. Was your week that bad?”
I look up at him, glad the nausea has passed. “What are you even doing here?”
“I’m helping you,” he replies.
“Helping me? Hah!” I get up, now feeling kind of angry. I poke him in the chest. “You fucked me, took my V-card, then left me! Now you wanna help?”
Wow, that came out of nowhere.
His face registers shock. “I thought I apologized for that.”
“Well, you didn’t. And while we’re being honest and forth... forth... righting... forthcoming! Yeah, that’s the word. You couldn’t even be bothered to come to my mom’s funeral! You need to leave!” I point dramatically to the door.
“I... I was there, Taryn. I was... giving you space,” he says almost too low for me to hear.
My eyebrows practically hit my hairline. “What did you say?”
He walks to the door, opens it, and says, “Lock the door behind me and go to bed. Goodnight, Taryn.”