Carlson
The booming smack of my fist hurls the heavy pad and Hawkes back a full step. Before he has time to recover my left arm is launching out in a crushing strike. The resounding thwack and Hawkes’s curse only fuels me as I propel my right fist into the cushioned target yet again. My leg flies up and connects with Hawkes’s swift block.
Rivers of sweat runs down my face, neck, and chest to soak my worn t-shirt. Nearly an hour of hard beating, and I’m still vibrating with frustrated energy.
“What the hell is wrong with you, man?” Hawkes drops the pads to shake off his arms. “You need to get laid or something?”
I wouldn’t mind a side of that from Suzette. “Quit bitchin’. The old ball and chain is turning you into a whiny dickhead.”
I’ve not heard from Suzette. She’s probably pissed off at me for getting into a scuffle at the party. Once with Hector and the second time with her. I don’t blame her. I still haven’t gotten over how I behaved like some jealous, reckless punk ass in front of her. To say I’m chagrinned would be putting it mildly. Embarrassed and downright ashamed would be more accurate.
I was worried about some drunken jackass misbehaving around Ma, but it was me who achieved it without a drop of liquor. Ma was understanding, though. I wasn’t a kid anymore, she said in the car on the way home, and didn’t need her to remind me. Growing up, Ma never raised a hand to me. Not once. Not even when I was spiraling out of control after Pops was gone. There was nothing she could’ve done. At the end, I was thrown in because some wannabe thugs were giving Ma a hard time, and I just lost it.
Some battles were worth the bruises.
Then she proceeded to lecture me about women. Rather, not having a woman yet. That was immediately followed by a strict directive to bring Suzette over for dinner. Or brunch. Or whatever. No excuses.
How is a woman supposed to know you’re serious about her, she rationalized, if you don’t make sure she gets to know your mother?
I know for a fact Suzette won’t have dinner with me. Brunch, on the other hand, might be a more promising option.
“The old ball and chain is the reason why I don’t need to go at the mats like my balls are on fire,” Hawkes counters, bringing me back to the present.
“That’s because Gemma has your balls.” With my teeth, I yank off the bind on the glove. “Speaking of which, where is Gemma?”
“Girls thing with Suzy.”
My illogical chest thumps at the mention of the name. “Strip club?” I growl.
The scowl was expected. “Fuck no. Getting their hair done or some shit.”
“Wait. How is it you’re here, I’m here, but Gemma is out? Doesn’t your psycho ass have her under twenty-four-hour watch?”
“Don’t remind me.” His glower can curl the mats. “Apparently, since you’re now COO and no longer the driver, you can’t be her guard either.”
I hate to say it, but… “I told you I shouldn’t be COO.”
“Yeah. Yeah. We all heard you the first fifty thousand times.” A few efficient tugs, and he has one glove on. “She won’t let me replace you either,” he gripes and holds out his other hand, fingers out. “Says she’s a big girl and doesn’t need a babysitter.”
“She’s got a point.” I begin wrapping up his fist. “Besides, she’s with Suzette.”
“So?”
“Suzette’s a good girl.”
When there’s no movement, I glance up to find him with a knowing smirk.
“You got it bad, bro.”
I shove his wadded knuckle away. “Get the fuck outta here.”
“Hey, I’m just merely making an observation.”
“All I said was she’s a good girl, which she is. How did you arrive at your radical conclusion?”
“It wasn’t what you said but how you said it.” He starts bounding in place, warming up. “’Member that chick… shit, can’t recall her name… you know, from that bar. The fake redhead with the…” He cups his gloves a foot from his pecs. “The one who took us to the back to—”
“What about her?” I interrupt before he can go into a detailed refresher I’d rather forget.
“What did you say about her when she invited us over again?
It’s my turn to glower. I know exactly what he’s getting at, but I’ve no intention of playing into it. “I didn’t say shit.”
“You said, ‘No use for bad girls. One and done. Only a good girl for me.’” White teeth flashes. “Something along those lines.”
I turn it around on him. “Does Gemma know about this chick?”
“Yup. It happened way before her. What does she care? She knows I’m not going to fuck around on her.”
“Bullshit,” I call his bluff. “You didn’t tell Gemma.”
“Sure did. I don’t hide things from her. Ask her.”
I take a warning step towards him. “She better not be sharing that shit with Suzette.”
“What? That we dipped our dicks in the same mouth… among other orifices.” He shrugs and switches to air punching. “Probably. Girls yak.”
It’s on now, I decide on the spot and snatch up my discarded gloves.
~~~~~
The first Monday of the new year and I’m already over it. I swear, corporate bozos meet about meetings, then meet about that too. By eleven, I’ve sat in on three of them and waiting on the fourth to begin. Guess that makes me a corporate bozo.
Tapping my pen against the table, I lean back in the leather chair, barely checking the urge to glower at the whole lot of them. We’re in the conference room where natural daylight streams through the walls of UV-coated glass. Jennifer the CFO, a blowhard who spends more time boasting about herself and belittling others than actually doing anything extraordinary, Sam Fraser, Director of Construction, and Kyle Lin, Head of Marketing and Suzette’s supervisor, are at the table, eyeing me and smirking at my scabbed lip and colorful knuckles. Thanks to Hawkes, I acquired a few more bruises since his little shindig.
Hawkes is late, as usual, not that any one of these clowns would dare point it out to him besides me. Knowing him, he’s probably still in his office having a quickie with Gemma. Lucky asshole.
The fourth meeting of the day, and no one has thought to bring in any food.
Maybe there’s enough time for me to mosey on a couple of floors down to the kitchen near Suzette. It’s better stocked with snacks I like.
If I happen to catch her at her desk, well, that’s just coincidence.
I have to admit, being COO definitely has its advantages. Other than meetings about meetings, it’s really not that bad. Surveying jobsites, witnessing concrete, steel, and wood transform communities with imposing structures, brings back memories of the early days at HC. There’s a certain satisfaction to getting work done that I know has a greater impact.
When the door opens, I don’t bother looking over. It’s about fucking time Hawkes makes an appearance.
The gut-punch scent crooks its beckoning finger at me. Unconsciously my attention is sucked in, my gaze falling on the newcomer.
My eyes take over my face at the sight before me.
It’s Suzette… but not Suzette.
Large, shiny curls bounce in her normally straight dark hair. They’re all over the place and bobs with every step she gains like unbound tits on her head. It’s hair gone wild.
Her face is… I don’t know what she did. Her lids have these colors on them, somehow enhancing her gorgeous eyes even more. Her puffy lips are smeared with glossy red stuff. Cosmetics. A face designed to grab a man’s attention. And his dick’s.
And that skirt. Mercy.
Black and red. Knee-length. Perfectly appropriate for the office and hugs her shapely ass in eyepopping invitation. The sweater above it looks soft and infinitely touchable, cupping her tits like a devoted lover.
Someone must’ve turned up the heat, because sweat is starting to bead like a motherfucker on my forehead. My eyes are so bombarded with sensory overload that they don’t know what to savor first.
“Excuse me,” she says at large as she breezes right by me to the other side of the long table, hips swaying temptingly. She tilts down by Kyle and sets something in front of him. The fall of wild curls curtain one pale cheek. “Here’s the profile you wanted for the meeting.”
Kyle’s gaze is riveted to her sensual lips. His tongue flicks out before he says, “Thanks, Suzy.”
A warning sound rumbles low in my throat.
“Good morning, Suzy.” Sam sends a pleased grin across the table. “It’s so nice to see a fresh face first thing in the morning.”
“It’s eleven-fifteen,” I snap.
“Thank you, Sam,” Suzette replies as though I hadn’t pointed out we have a dipshit at the table. “It’s good to see you.” She’s all mysterious smiles and seductive gestures. “I just came to drop off the file for Kyle. Have a good meeting.”
Eager beaver Sam surges to his feet. “Let me get the door for you.” He hustles around. “By the way, I like your shoes,” he comments as he walks a glowing Suzette out.
Fuck me, he went for the shoes.
Dead man walking right there.
Sporting a ghastly cut above his brow from our impromptu training, Hawkes finally treks in with a stupid grin on his face, looking utterly dazed and relaxed.
Yup, asshole got laid.
“Let’s get the meeting started,” he announces without an apology for making us wait while his dick gets its groove before taking a seat. “What’ve you got for us, Kyle?”
I sigh and whip out my phone to tap out a quick text.
Zip it.
While Kyle starts on his practiced yapping, Hawkes glances at the brief alert on his smartwatch. A frown mars his brow and his baffled gaze darts over to me.
I look pointedly at his lap. Even his pants are grinning.
A wasted long hour of my life later…
“We’ve got that lunch meeting with Jessalyn Garcia,” Hawkes reminds me as we file out of the conference room after the others left. “We should get going.”
“She’s your attorney. I don’t see why I have to be there.”
“She’s one of HC’s attorneys, and you need to be there because it’s your ass on the line, not mine.” His voice lowers so as not to be overheard. “That motherfucker has already lawyered up.”
“I barely touched the pussy ass,” I grumbled.
“That’s not what he’s claiming.”
“There must’ve been a hundred witnesses. He walked out of that party on fully functional legs.” Never mind that he was hobbling. He should really look into yoga to help him out. “So what does he want?”
Hawkes’s gaze slides to me. “What else?”
“He’s just pissed because he got his skinny ass handed to him in front of people he works with. He doesn’t deserve a payout, man, not after what he did.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you, but what you just said? Let’s keep that between us.” He gestures at the steel door near the elevators. “Let’s take the stairs. I need to stop by Gemma’s, then we can go.”
“I can’t believe that guy has the nerve to show his face in the office.” Our heavy steps echo on the metal treads as we descend two floors. “He wants to act like nothing happened while he’s at work, then hide behind his lawyer. I thought he was a decent guy. Played b-ball with him. Now this shit?”
“Were you expecting him to resign?” he asks sardonically. “Not likely. He’s suing the company he works for while still collecting a paycheck, that’s the way of it.”
My feet halt fleetingly. “He’s going after HC?”
Hawkes nods grimly. “Yup. Claims it was a company party, therefore, the company is liable.”
“That’s bullshit.” My fists flex, wishing I can plow them into his scheming face again. “He’s got balls, I’ll give him that.”
“His lawyer got balls, not him. It’s a good thing juvenile court records are sealed, or you know they’d use it against us.”
“Those records were destroyed,” I point out. “If he wants to go there, then let him bring it.”
We push through the door and my gaze instinctively veers towards Suzette’s desk.
It’s vacant.
It is lunchtime. She’s probably outside at her usual spot, I decide as we make our way down the hall to Procurement. We have to pass by IT to get there, but fortunately for Hector, he’s nowhere in sight.
Gemma’s giggle can be heard before we get to the department. Just as we round the corner, she’s striding out.
With Suzette.
And all her just-got-fucked-so-good-it-coiled-my-hair.
At the sight of her fiancé, Gemma’s whole face lights up even more. “Hi, baby. Or, ur, Mr. Hawkes.”
I can’t help the derisive snort. “The cat’s out of the bag, Gem. The whole company knows about you two, considering the engagement announcement last month.”
Suzette doesn’t look at me. She’s staring at Gemma, at Hawkes, at her fingernails, at the wall, anywhere but me.
Is she that upset with me?
Hawkes extracts something out of his pocket, lifts Gemma’s hand, and slides her ring back on her finger. “You left it on my desk.”
No one wants to know how that happened.
“Thanks.” She actually flushes.
Not letting go of her hand now that he has it, Hawkes glimpses between her and Suzette. “Where are you ladies off to?”
“Lunch,” Suzette responds with a polite smile at Hawkes. At least he gets one. “The taco truck down the street. It’s really good.”
“I like tacos,” I all but spell out the hint.
Hawkes slants me an exasperated look. “You’re not going.”
I’m affronted. “Why not?”
“One: no one invited you. Two: we have a lunch meeting.”
“We can meet at the taco truck.”
“You want to have a meeting with the attorney at a taco truck?” He says that like he thinks I’ve lost my mind.
“What’s wrong with that?” Good food. I get to gawk at Suzette. Can’t beat that.
Hawkes cuts a look to Gemma like he needs her female intervention.
Gemma merely shrugs.
Suzette is back to staring at the blank wall.
He sighs as though it’s not worth an explanation. “We need to go.”
“We’ll bring some tacos back for you,” Gemma offers helpfully. “You like carnitas, right?”
Suzette’s eyes dart to me but quickly bounces away.
“He doesn’t need tacos, Gemmy. We’re going to Il Pasto Fresco,” Hawkes reasons. “He’ll order the grilled Tuscan steak like he always does there. You and Suzy go enjoy your lunch.”
“I like tacos,” I mutter again, but no one is paying me any attention, least of all Suzette.
With covert touches, Hawkes and Gemma say goodbye without words. I watch Suzette tail Gemma without so much as a backwards glance my way.
“She’s deliberately giving me the cold shoulder,” I grumble as soon as they’re gone.
That earns me a frown from Hawkes. “Gemma?”
“No, asshole. Suzette.” How the hell am I supposed to invite her over for brunch with Ma if she won’t even look at me?
“Thought you didn’t care? Let’s go. We’re late.”
“I care,” I assert, but he’s already down the hall.
His echoing chuckles tell me he heard anyway.