How on earth could going from a dull brown to reddy-brown auburn make such a change? My skin looked as if it had more color and glow, my face looked sharper with my cheekbones more pronounced, and Bill, the sweetheart, was right. It made the slight green in my eyes look more apparent. So when Bill saw this, he stood behind me in the mirror, grinning, and then leaned down to my ear and muttered, “Pop.”
And I almost lost use of my legs. Bill was a seriously attractive man. He knew it, but he didn’t care about it, and he never—and I mean never—used it to his advantage. And that made me love him even more.
I loved my new color, and sitting on the bus this morning, I could definitely see men noticing my new ‘pop.’ When I felt eyes on me and caught a thirty-something-year-old man in a suit watching me, a blush lit my face. I dipped my chin to hide the furious pink of my cheeks and neck.
I still felt eyes on me though, and I felt them there from stop to stop. Curiosity got the better of me. I peeked up to find Mr. Suit smiling at me, and although my heart was racing, I smiled back, albeit nervously.
That was when he grinned, and something about that grin made my stomach flip. Mr. Suit looked a little like Quinn, only rather than being an explosion of perfect chaos, Mr. Suit had blue eyes matching the color of his tie, and his longish brown hair had been styled in an attractive business-do.
I liked it. So when I stood at the same time he did, and got off at the same stop as him, then almost walked into him as we made our way to the same building, my nerves had built up to the boiling point. I suddenly turned to face him as he held the door open for me, and then blurted out, “Are you following me?”
His chuckle washed over me, causing my skin to break out into goose bumps. “If I didn’t have work, I probably would be. But no.” His eyes narrowed teasingly. “I could ask you the same question.”
My cheeks heated so much that I thought they might melt. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little paranoid. This is my first day at Addison Limited.”
He blinked and his smile faltered for a second, but his eyes remained devoid. “Addison Limited? That’s level three. I’ll walk you up; it can be a little confusing if you don’t know your way around.”
I started to decline then thought better of it. I didn’t want to be late on my first day because I pulled up my big girl panties so high that I couldn’t see someone trying to do me a favor. Instead, I smiled through a sigh. “Thank you. The last thing I need right now is to be late. A first impression lasts, you know.”
He looked down at me, his brow creasing slightly as he muttered thoughtfully, “It sure does.”
We stepped into the elevator, and as he pressed the button, he held his hand out and uttered, “I’m Nicholas.”
Thankful for his help, I took his hand, shook it, and smiled. “Mia. Mia Bridgeton.”
He let go of my hand and we both looked straight ahead. Nicholas stated, “Pretty name for a pretty woman.”
My eyes widened. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. I was sure a ‘thank you’ would make him assume I was shallow and thought I was pretty, but if I said ‘oh, I’m not pretty,’ then he’d think I was fishing for compliments. So rather than respond, I simply smiled and swallowed hard.
The silence was deafening, even though Nicholas looked rather comfortable in it. I was so grateful when the doors opened that I stepped out of the elevator and into the reception area of Addison Ltd, turning to thank him and let him on his way. I was surprised when the woman at reception stood, looking wide-eyed at Nicholas. She sputtered, “M-Mr. Dietrich! I didn’t see your name in the book today.”
Nicholas smiled at her, but it was cold. When he muttered a flat, “That’s one of the perks of owning a business, Janet. You can come and go as you please,” my brain channeled Terry and yelled, ‘Shut up!’
Then I wanted to shout, ‘But you can’t own a successful business! You can’t be rich! You take the bus!’ but, of course, I didn’t. Instead, I did the best thing I could think of, which was keep my mouth shut.
Janet, also playing it smart, uttered a soft, “Of course, sir.”
Nicholas walked over to the door and held it open, waiting for me to walk through. I did, my feet carrying me quickly as I clutched my satchel for dear life. I followed him as he walked, nearly stepping on his heels every few steps, until he led me to a large office at the end of the hall. “Come on in, Mia.”
He closed the door behind us then sat, motioning for me to do the same. “So I think you’ve gathered by now that I am Nicholas Dietrich, owner of Addison Ltd.”
I nodded gently, but said nothing. Why was it only now that I was feeling intimidated? When he was just Nicholas, I still felt nerves, but not nearly this bad.
He leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m not often at the office. I prefer to work from home. There are too many distractions here. I hire people to do work for me, but when I sit in this office, it’s as though people think that’s an invitation to come in every five minutes to show me what they’ve done and ask if the work they’ve done is ‘okay.’”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you need me to check your work every five minutes, I’m assuming it’s not okay. That’s a really good way to get fired here. So here’s my first tip to you, Mia: Have confidence in your work and stick by it when others rip it apart. My second tip is: Hold your head up high. Pretend you’re a badass, the best at what you do, because if you don’t…” his eyes drift over me, looking me up and down, “…you’re going to get eaten up for breakfast.”
My voice small, I mumbled, “I am the best at what I do.”
He smiled then. “That’s the spirit.”
I choked down a laugh and explained, “No, I mean…I am the best. Of this year, anyway. I came top of my class. Every class.”
His eyes widened as his mouth pulled down. “Impressive.” Then he conceded, “And I should probably know that already. Alas, I don’t do the hiring.”
Feeling bold, I pointed out, “Of course not. You have someone to do that for you. You probably have assistants for your assistants.”
A cocky smile played on his face and he opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off with, “Why were you taking a bus this morning?”
His smile fell. And just as I tried to apologize for prying, the door to the office flew open and a blonde, rail-thin woman came rushing in, her high heels clicking with every step. Fury sparkled in her eyes. “We had a deal, Nick. You work from home; I work here at the office.”
A cool smile graced his face. “Good morning, Addison. How lovely to see you.”
His polite demeanor only seemed to fuel her fire. She hissed, “I want you gone by lunch, or I’m calling my lawyer.”
I remained silent, locked in an awkward bubble between the obvious animosity between the two. And then she was gone.
With his eyes fixed on the door, his jaw worked. “You want to know why I had to catch the bus this morning? Because my charming ex-wife, as you just met, claimed she needed my cars in conjunction with her alimony.” His eyes met mine. “That’s right. Not car, but cars.”
“I see.” But I didn’t see. I had no idea what the hell I was getting myself into working at Addison Ltd.
At the look on my face, his lip twitched. “Don’t worry. It’s not always that eventful working here. I swear.”
Even though I told myself I should leave it alone, my mouth opened and words spewed forth. “You work with your ex-wife? That must be tough.” Then I winced. “I’m sorry; this is none of my business.”
He nodded. “You’re right. It isn’t. But it’s nothing you won’t hear as part of office gossip.”
My face gentled. I wanted to tell him I wouldn’t listen to the gossip, but that seemed unlikely. So rather than say that, I asked another personal question. “Why does she hate you so much?”
He paused a moment, thinking of what to say. His face wore no expression, none whatsoever, when he uttered a very clinical, “Because I cheated
on her.”
And that was how I met my boss.
My apartment welcomed me home with open doors. Well, not really, but if an apartment could hug a person, mine would be hugging me right now. I loved my place. It was small and bare, but it was mine.
I was tired as hell, but the day had improved with every hour that passed. I met two colleagues I would be working closely with, Ella and Pip. Ella was a short, plump woman who wore the tallest of heels and rocked a massive head of curls, while Pip was a middle-aged man with smile lines around his eyes and salt-and-pepper hair. They were both sweet and welcoming, and funny too.
I had a feeling the pros of working at Addison Ltd would surely outweigh the cons.
The shower called my name, and when I undressed and stood under the hot spray, tension I hadn’t realized was there washed away. I was left feeling calm, happy, and positive about my job choice.
Ella and Pip threw me into the deep end right away and I loved them for it. We were working on planning a ‘desperate and dateless’ ball hosted by the number one radio station in the city. And while I stayed back and watched how Ella and Pip worked together, whenever I felt I had something to add, they listened and took my advice on board. I was part of a team. And that felt good.
Throwing on a pair of panties and my tattered nightshirt, I slipped into bed and turned on the TV. I absentmindedly watched a reality show about rich housewives, but kept looking at my cell sitting on the bedside table. A few minutes of doing this and rolling my eyes, I snatched up my phone, pressed a few buttons, and held it to my ear.
“Maya?” I forgot about my racing heart the second I heard his surprised voice.
“Hi,” I uttered, then added quickly, “shoot, you’re probably busy. I’m sorry! I’ll just—”
But I was cut off with an amused, “Trying to get rid of me already?” He sighed dramatically. “Just my luck.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the dejected tone of his voice. “No, I just…I should’ve sent you a text first to check that you were free.”
“So now that I’m on the line, why don’t you ask me if I’m free?”
I smiled but rolled my eyes, asking a deadpan, “Are you free, Quinn?”
He chuckled and stated, “You know what I like about you? You’ve got fire hidden under your sweet side. And yes, I’m free for another couple of hours. How was your day, Maya?”
Mia! I wanted to yell. My name is Mia!
Playing with the stitching on my comforter, I admitted, “It was great. I started a new job today.”
I heard rustling on the other line, as if Quinn got comfortable to listen to me. “Really? That’s cool. Tell me about it.”
And, smiling, I did. For the next hour, I had a real conversation with Matt Quinn. It was everything I hoped it would be…and that scared the crap out of me.
Chapter Thirteen
Quinn
When Maya called, I was stunned. Well, more like pleasantly surprised. I had been avoiding her since my night with Belinda, which was not her fault. It was mine. Using Maya’s name when with a client hadn’t been planned, but while it was happening, I enjoyed it. After it was over, I felt dirty.
If only she knew. She wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole.
Her soft voice held a high amount of amusement in it when she explained her day’s adventures. “…and then this gorgeous blonde comes barging into the office so hard I thought the door would fly off the hinges, and she lays into him…right in front of me!”
Eyes wide, I muttered, “No way.”
I could almost see the expression on her non-existent face. “Yes! But wait, it gets more awkward.”
I groaned and rubbed my hand down my face. “This can’t be real. You’re making this up.”
She burst into laughter and yelled through it, “I swear it’s true! I swear on your giant mangina!”
Scowling, I grabbed my cock through my jeans, mentally telling it to block its ears. “Hey, now! We talked about this. I do not want that word associated with my penis. He’s sensitive.”
When her laughter gentled to a mild chuckle, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Quinn. But I really do love that word. Anyways, so she leaves and my boss explains that was his ex-wife, and the reason he had to take the bus was because she got his cars as part of the divorce settlement. So then I asked why she hates him so much and…”
I choked on a laugh. “Why would you even ask that?”
Maya smothered down a giggle. “God, I don’t even know. I’m socially awkward. You should know this, so I’ll tell you…I don’t really have a filter. But that’s beside the point! He answered me.”
This girl was killing me. “Oh, man, you’re a socially awkward woman who asks inappropriate questions, and your bus-taking boss is an over-sharer. Geez. You’re a match made in heaven.”
“I know, right?” She gentled her voice to a whisper, as if she was telling me a secret. “He told me he cheated on her!”
“What. The. Fuck?” That was all I could manage. Where the hell was Maya working to have this much drama on day one?
Sounding excited and pleased with her story-telling abilities, she stated a happy, “I know!” Then she sighed contently. “I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.”
I smiled with affection, even though she couldn’t see it. “You’re adorable.”
She paused a moment, and I thought she would end the call, but instead she replied with, “You don’t know that. I could be a total troll.”
I nodded. “You could, but I don’t think you are. Are you?” Yes, I was digging for more information on this unknown woman who had occupied my mind for the last week. I needed to know more.
Her smile came through in her teasing voice. “I guess you’ll find out on Sunday. Please excuse the big, hairy wart on my nose. I’m seeing a specialist about it.”
I grinned. “That’s okay. I can shave it for you. You know? If that’s your thing.”
She chuckled then added in a husky voice, “Ooh, stop it. You’re turning me on.”
My brow creased. I was curious, and that was never a good thing. I told myself the question I was about to ask was purely for professional reasons. That Maya would be my client, and in order to do my job, I needed the facts.
I was lying to myself.
“What turns you on, Maya?” I heard her squeak, and mentally scolded myself for being so blunt. Before she could say goodbye and hang up, I went on, “Listen, this is just us talking, remember? We’re friends, aren’t we? If it helps, I can tell you what turns me on?”
I was hoping that would work.
I was right. It did.
In a small, anxious voice, she uttered slowly, “O-okay. A question for a question, right? You tell me and I’ll tell you.”
Yeah, that’s right. Come to Papa.
Sitting up against the headboard of my bed, I cleared my throat and started, “Okay, good.” Then I thought hard. “Let’s see. Well, I really love watching a woman eat. Especially if it’s something sweet.”
Sounding breathless, she waited for me to continue, but I simply smirked. She asked a hushed, “What else?”
Gotcha.
I shook my head and tsked. “No. That’s not how this works. What if I tell you all I’ve got then you decide you don’t want to tell me anything? For insurance sake, I ask that we reveal one thing at a time.” She made a growling noise and I tried to hide my laughter, but was doing a pretty crappy job of it. “C’mon, Maya. Let me in. Give me a damn inch, woman!”
She sighed and I could her the frustration in her voice. My heart panged at how real that frustration sounded. “You’re just going to make fun of me.”
I sobered in an instant. “Really? You think I’d do that?”
Then she just sounded sad. “No. But you’ll be thinking about it.”
Something about this girl had me wanting to protect her, and it sparked something inside of me I’d never experienced before. “I don’t know who made you feel like this or why, but I swe
ar to God, if you told me who they were, I’d track down every single one of those assholes and feed them my fist.”
O-kay…‘cause that wasn’t creepy or anything.
Her silence told me she thought my passionate statement was as weird as I thought it was. But then she spoke. “Wow. That was probably the nicest empty threat anyone has ever made for me.”
I wanted to tell her the threat wasn’t empty, but instead rubbed the back of my heating neck as I muttered a partially embarrassed, “Yeah, well, I’m a little protective of my friends.”
She coughed then blurted out, “I really like watching a man’s throat work when he drinks. Especially if he’s really thirsty.”
My brows rose. Who knew something so simple could be a turn on for a woman? In order to keep our conversation moving along, I told her, “I love the dimples on a woman’s lower back. You know? Just above the butt? Love ‘em.”
She admitted, “I love a man’s smile. Not the fake ones to be pleasant with company, but the real ones that come after they’ve laughed hard.”
I smiled then. A real one. “I love when a woman wears white underwear.”
As if she’d said it without thinking, she muttered a husky, “I’m wearing white underwear.” Then she added a mortified, groaned, “Oh, tell me I didn’t just say that, Quinn.” I took that as permission to laugh. She uttered, “See? Can’t take me anywhere.”
I shushed her then ordered, “Don’t think you’ll distract me with your feminine wiles. Save your sex sorcery for our meeting, wench. C’mon, give me another one.”
She puffed out a breath. “Yeah, yeah.” Then she paused a moment, taking a second before responding quietly, “You know that thing you have? That trail of hair from your belly button to your…um…yeah.” She whispered, “I really like that.”
That pleased me a whole fucking lot. I looked down at the evident bulge in my jeans. I needed to calm the fuck down. I barely choked out, “Good. That’s good. I think we’ve made progress today, Maya. You did good.”