I tried to hide how impressed I was. I was used to hierarchies in LA. There, the happy hour invitees had been divvied up by rank. Only upper management this time, or maybe this team is invited, but not those two newest members. Or sometimes it was about who was willing to be on camera when they were going to a place that was filming a reality show. Never ever had the whole company been invited, and I doubted they even knew the names of the tangential workers like security and janitorial. Of course, Aiden was different. He’d never been impressed by rank or privilege. From my dad’s stories, he actively disdained it. My dad had first noticed him when another professor pointed him out and said, “That kid is going nowhere fast, and he’s doing it with an attitude.” “And he was right,” Aiden chimed in when my dad told the story. “You were always going somewhere,” my dad disagreed. “You just needed help finding which direction to start in.” “Yeah, because I was headed straight for jail
AIDEN If I could have fired Layla, I would have. Not because she didn’t fit right in with the Brand Development team, not because Maureen had even hinted that her job performance was anything less than stellar. No, it was solely because I couldn’t think when she was around. I started getting into the office early to get work done before she came in at nine. Somehow, I always knew precisely when she arrived, even with my door shut. The energy on the floor changed, became charged. I didn’t need to hear the tap of her high heels on the steps or hear her smoky laugh to know that the particles of the room had become electrified. When it happened, I gritted my teeth and put my Bose headphones on, using the pounding music of my disaffected teen years to drown out her presence. I couldn’t avoid her though. We weren’t a huge company, and I had a hand in everything. We found ourselves going into the same conference rooms or going for the pot of coffee at the same time all throughout the we
I shook my head at the memory but grinned in spite of myself. This was why Maureen was indispensable. She kept me focused on the most important things. I’d made enough money, for me. I owned my apartment in the city and ten acres of land a couple hours outside of it. My plan was to work for as long as it was still stimulating, and then quit as soon as my heart stopped beating fast with excitement at the next challenge. Then I’d sell the apartment and build on the land. Retire to the life that never seemed within my reach as a kid growing up in a bad part of town, where there was more trash on the ground than grass. Graffiti blooming everywhere instead of flowers. Some of my friends had fantasized about the sleek penthouses on Millionaire’s Row, but I just wanted space. It was ironic that I was thinking about space as I pulled my office door shut behind me and felt the telltale prickle go up the back of my spine. I knew Layla was on the floor even before I heard the sound of her foots
LAYLAImet Liv and Bran at a bar close to Cross Media twenty minutes after my baffling confrontation with Aiden. After he left, the heavy stairwell door thunking behind him, I’d sat down at my desk, overwhelmed. He had been so agitated. It had vibrated in his body, wound his voice up so tight it was nearly unrecognizable. And he hadn’t been able to tell me why. His answers were bullshit, and I didn’t need my minor in Psych to tell me that. Every woman knew that when a man looked at her like that, he either hated her or wanted her and couldn’t have her.And Aiden had no reason to hate me.Since both Liv and Bran knew my feelings for Aiden, I decided to put this situation before them. I wouldn’t put much stock in my little brother’s advice normally, but he had intuited what I thought I’d so carefully guarded. And Liv was sure to tell me to do the most sensible thing possible, which was exactly what I needed to hear right now.At the bar, over our first round of beers, I took a deep brea
Joe made a face. “No, thank you. Maureen made us do a movie night where we watched them all in a row. How many times has he said that his best friends have four legs?”“At least a dozen,” I admitted.“What about ‘we don’t choose them, they choose us’?”“More than a dozen.”“I swear to God–” Joe set down his beer and held his hands up, palms out, “–the first time he came in, he said with absolutely no hint of irony, ‘sometimes I wonder who saved who,’ while showing us pictures of his first cat.”“Isn’t that a bumper sticker?” I thought for sure I’d seen it slapped in a few back windows with silhouettes of cats and dogs bookending the words.“Yes, it is, so the fact he injected it into casual conversation like it just came to him–” Joe shook his head, too disgusted to finish his sentence.“It was gross,” Gloria agreed. “But like, his arms.”“What about them?” I studied them in the video. They were thick with muscle, but they were almosttoobig, like maybe he’d have trouble finding shirts
AIDENAndrew Gold was a great analyst. He was instrumental to the Market analysis team. But maybe I could fire him anyway.I toyed with the idea as, two rows ahead, he leaned in close to Layla’s ear to say something that made her shout with laughter. As always, the smoky timbre of it went straight to my groin. I’d never thought a laugh could be so sexy, but it was the way she threw her head back, the motion of that beautiful russet brown hair, the way her blue eyes closed as her cherry red lips curved. I wanted to make her laugh, then kiss her while her mouth was still wide open. Slip my tongue in and…“You’re not eating your hot dog,” Maureen said, offended. “I put the damn relish on just like you like it.”Maureen had stood in line for our hot dogs while I went halfway around the stadium in search of the beer we liked. So now, even though the hot dogs were on the company dime, she was pissed I wasn’t eating it. Sometimes, having Maureen as one of my closest friends was akin to havin
LAYLAAiden’s mouth seared mine, and I only had a moment to thinkfinally!before my mind went blank. Only a moment to feel triumphant excitement before burning heat took its place. I’d deliberately avoided touching him up until the moment his control finally broke, but now I wrapped myself around him. I’d imagined doing so a hundred times, but my imagination hadn’t even brought me close to how good it felt to feel his hard chest against my breasts, the long, lean lines of his body bowing over me, the stubble on his chin scraping tantalizingly over the soft skin of my cheeks.I couldn’t decide where to put my hands–his broad chest, the muscular shoulders underneath his Red Sox t-shirt, or around the back of his neck where I could feel the ends of his hair. His hands were banded around my waist, his long fingers wrapped around my back, his thumbs on the waistband of my shorts.I don’t know how long we stood there, our bodies locked together, our mouths moving furiously over each other, c
AIDENOn Saturday mornings, I typically picked up doughnuts and coffee and drove over to my old neighborhood to spend some quality time with my little brother. He wasn’t related to me by blood. I’d hooked up with this mentor program a few years ago when I was profiled in a few local papers as a local boy made good.They’d paired me up with Carl O’Donoghue, a local boy determined to make bad. He made sure I knew that the doughnuts were the only reason he waited for me on the front steps of his run down rowhouse every Saturday morning. He called me big bro like he was spitting it between his teeth. Maureen gave me shit about bringing doughnuts instead of something with actual nutritional value, but Carl had a stomach curdling habit that involved chewing tobacco for breakfast, so I figured doughnuts were a step up.This morning, he was sitting on the bottom step, looking rough and hard and about as tough as a couple of matchsticks. An ulcerous splinter. He glared at me when I pulled up a
Whitney“What is it?”I whisper into my pillow.The doorbell ring continues. Ever since Dad found out about me and Maddox, he’s been trying way too hard to parent.I have to tell him to stop with these visits. He can text like a normal person, or call like a boomer. But, unannounced visits? Those are too much.I haven’t felt like seeing anyone, anyway. Ever since Maddox broke up with me, I’ve been holing up in my home whenever I get a chance. It’s like his exit from my life turned off a light inside of me, one I’m not sure when will flick on again. I miss him so much.I rush to the bathroom, brush my teeth then splash some water on my face. The doorbell rings again, but I take my time putting my hair in a ponytail. What could be so important?Dad has already apologized for butting in my business and twisting Maddox’s arm to break up with me. While I still think that was a mistake, it was one I understood. He wanted what he thought was best for me. Fine, I get it.What I don’t get is ho
MaddoxI’m goingthrough the latest reports when Charles walks into my office. Ever since the day we talked in the conference room, a week ago, things have been crazy.The post went up and it had enough engagement for a few different local gossip sites to contact me about it, but I followed Whitney’s recommendation and ignored them. Today my restaurant is full, and the manager on duty told me last night the club had to hire last minute extra security to handle the high traffic.Whitney was right.Dan Walters hasn’t released any statement, because the bastard knows if he says something to try to sound like the wronged party, I can tell the media the truth. A scumbag like him has more skeletons in his closet than he cares to admit, I bet.So everyone wins.Well, not everyone.I haven’t seen Whitney. I’ve communicated via Astrid, but every day that goes by makes me more aware of the big mistake I’ve made.I got divorced once, and even though it was the right decision, it still broke me. B
Maddox“What do you mean we need to talk?” I ask Astrid, who’s standing in front of me, in the middle of my office.“Something came up and I just wanted to make everyone aware and come up with a plan. So I have Whitney and Charles at the conference room, and if you can join us that’ll be great.”“Huh, okay.” It’s been two days since I last saw Whitney, and seeing her so soon makes my heart flip in my chest.Then the realization her father will be there with us is like a glacial bucket of water poured all over me, without any warning. In the last day, Astrid texted me a couple of times about stuff related to posts, and I had to control myself not to ask how Whitney was doing.I was a jerk.I was a prick.In the end, though, the right decisions are the hard ones.Doesn’t feel right in my heart, or even in my head if I’m being honest. But it felt right to her father, a man I’ve always admired and who’s been there for me. Besides, what if he has a point? Just because I want her and she wa
WhitneyThe insistent doorbell ring startles me out of sleep.Yawning, I swing a leg over the other, dragging my way out of the bed.I probably got maybe two hours of sleep. It took me forever to close my eyes last night, after the heartbreak Maddox put me through. I was restless, fidgety, and devastated. All the words he told me about falling for me meant nothing.If he was really invested, he wouldn’t use the first obstacle to dip out.It was my dad, but what else could it have been? Would he have used just a different excuse later on?A part of me wants to believe he has strong feelings for me, butdoesn’t wantto have them. He acted like he succumbed to it, but maybe he’s still fighting it. This isn’t a fight I can do for him.I’m aware of my love. But his? He has to own it.Sighing, I run into the bathroom, wash my eyes quickly. They’re still a bit puffy from all the late-night crying, but the doorbell keeps reminding me there’s someone out there who’s probably not a mail carrier d
She fishes her phone from her pocket. “Do you want to schedule a post about hmmm, the pictures you were tagged on?”“No. I couldn’t care less at this point. I wasn’t doing anything illegal. I was on a date with my boyfriend.”She puts her phone back in her pocket, then looks at me with a flicker of surprise in her blue eyes. “Boyfriend? Thisisa soap opera. I usually don’t enjoy them, but it’s different when you know the main characters.”I roll my eyes. I bet I’d enjoy it too if I wasn’t one of the main characters. “Talk to you tomorrow, Astrid,” I say, and turn around. I beeline to his table, shoulders straight and heart pumping its way up my throat.“Whitney,” he says when I slide into the booth and sit across from him.“What happened with Dan?” I ask, the professional in me not wanting personal things to take priority. Even if my nerves are pulsing through invisible knots right now. I keep my hand under the table, tapping my fingers on my lap, fidgeting.A flash of anger sparks in
WhitneyI walk into the club,and the first thing I see is Astrid on the corner. Why didn’t she text me back?I dash over to her, my gaze scanning for signs of Dan and Maddox, but because there are a few more patrons than usual, and I can’t find either. Thank goodness for Astrid’s hair color and bold fashion choices making her easy to find in a crowd.“What’s up?” I ask her.She peels her gaze from her phone then tilts her head at me. “Did you see your dad as you walked in? He just left.”My dad? I thought he was with his team on the opposite side of the property. Busy. “No.”“Maybe he took the other exit… the emergency one that leads right out of the hotel.”My shoulders sag. Shit. Does my dad already know? I thought I’d buy some time, at least a couple of hours until he found out. I need to get to Maddox first, before Dad talks to him. Or maybe I’m too late already. Apprehension sweeps over me. I stand in front of her, finding it hard to sit, my body restless. “What’s going on?”“Wel
He’s a coward.Anger rises in me again, and I reach my drink and take it to my lips.I’m enjoying it when I see Charles walk up to me. He’s told me he’d be working with his team until late on a small gathering they’re throwing the next day for people of the trade. I wave at him, and he comes to my table with a determined expression, and long strides like he knows what he’s looking for. Who he’s looking for.My gut clenches. Something isn’t right.Was Dan an ass to him too, on the way back? Did Dan say anything bad about Whitney?Or did a bastard like me do something bad to Whitney?Like fuck her, again and again? I feel color draining from my face, and when Charles gets on the table with a disappointed look on his face, I already know it.“You jerk! I trusted you all those years. My daughter, really?” Charles says, flushed.My throat is dry and tight.Somehow he found out, and denying it will only make him angrier.Guilt crawls its way into my chest, and it’s hard to breathe. How can I
Maddox“And this is where guests and locals come for drinks and music,” I say, gesturing as we emerge into the club. I see quite a few more patrons than the past few weeks, which shows me that Whitney’s efforts have worked. We’ve had more visitors and increased sales. Always a plus.I’d be a lot happier if it weren’t for the company.My body is still stiff, as I had to go through an entire dinner with Dan Walters who happens to be almost as annoying as he is misogynistic. I guess it’s been a while since I last sat through a meal with the guy. We’re not friends, and I’ve met him in social events and basically small talked.I want to give him the benefit of the doubt and say maybe the reason why he’s been talking about women nonstop and not under the best light is because of his divorce. Maybe he’s broken, and feels more powerful if he’s bragging about all the pussy he’s getting.But the cynical part of me knows better.This guy is a certified douchebag, and I hope Astrid can get a good
WhitneyI strideinto the hotel lobby.Right now, Dan Walters the politician should be having dinner with Maddox. Maybe dinner is already over and they’re touring the hotel. Astrid is there in the club, ready to snap a couple of pictures as planned, and then send it to a gossip columnist friend of ours.If this was another client, I wouldn’t be here. My presence isn’t required since Astrid is here, as per her text.But I am shamelessly using every excuse in the book to be around Maddox, to see him more often, to spend more time with him.Ever since our ax throwing date, I can’t stop thinking about how far we’ve come. From him avoiding me for years to hinting about having children together one day. Who would have thought?A ball of joy rolls inside me, like a bowling ball running down the lane. Striking out.I add a little bit more pep to my step, and my goal is to pass by the restaurant and see them without introducing myself. But before I make it there, I almost bump into them, with b