I don’t know where I fit into it all.
It would seem my name had been placed around the middle. There was some entitled jock who they thought would shine brighter because he had a good last name and came from a well-to-do family. The rest of us didn’t stand a chance.
Still, it’s why I’m standing outside the elevator at seven in the morning, carrying sixty files in my arms, holding them tight against my chest. Glancing at my reflection in the metal doors, for a brief moment I allow myself to think about him. The man who had completely blown my world apart.
He’d given me a night to remember, and when I was alone in my bed, staring up at my ceiling, I allowed myself a chance to dream. To think of his hands as they held me. We’d fucked more than once. He’d surprised me by how many times he wanted to go. The way he held me in place, putting me on my knees or back, or making me take him, to stare into his eyes as he filled me.
I’d been raw for days.
Walking had been a problem, but seeing as I had to take care of Kerry, I’d not allowed myself to dwell.
Walking, talking, pretending everything was fine, I’d gone about my business until I got to this moment.
The memories are all I have left.
Dating isn’t part of my life.
Kerry and now work fill my world.
I’d cut my hair though.
Every chance he got, he’d run his fingers through it, gripping the length tight, driving me wild and making me just fall apart from the pleasure I could have at his fingertips.
Tapping my foot on the floor, I wonder if the stairs will be easier. Whoever is keeping the elevator is at the underground parking level. They are probably talking and keeping the door open.
Just as I’m about to turn to walk the stairs, the elevator starts to move. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t wait now.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see I’m the only one waiting.
The door pings open, drawing my attention. Turning around, I step onto the elevator, not staring at the other three people inside because it would show my impatience and I love my job.
Not causing any waves is part of the job.
“Top for me.”
The man presses the button, and away we go.
Lifting my head up, I gasp as I see him. His blue eyes are staring right back at me. The man that I sold my virginity to. The man I wasn’t going to see ever again is standing in the elevator with me.
My cheeks heat as my heart races. Holding onto the files with a death grip, I try, and probably fail, to look calm and collected.
This is a nightmare.
Malcolm didn’t tell me what to do if I was ever to come face to face with the man.
Please move. Please move. I need to get out of here.
My palms are sweaty.
The elevator stops three floors from where I need to be.
The doors open, and as I’m about to step out to make my escape, he catches my arm, stopping me. No one looks back as I’m trapped.
There is no way I could scream or draw attention to myself.
This job pays well. It would allow me to make a damn good life for me and my sister. Ruining all of that by screaming about a potential client wouldn’t allow that.
“You don’t need to run off.”
His grip tightens around my arm, pulling me back.
In the next second, he reaches out, pressing the stop button, and we stop still.
I watch as he goes to the panel of the elevator and suddenly flicks a button.
Being in small, confined spaces is a real problem for me. A few seconds as I go from one floor to another is fine, but right now I’m panicking.
He turns back toward me, and I keep hold of the files.
“Now isn’t this a surprise? What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I work here.”
His gaze looks at the files then back at me. His eyes seem to narrow as he stares at my hair.
Shit, suddenly getting it cut doesn’t seem like a good idea.
“Since when, what?”
“How long have you worked here?”
“A month. I’m part of the college dropout program.” I hate saying that. It’s like admitting failure.
“You’ve been here a month?”
“What’s your name?”
“I don’t have to tell you that.”
It was the wrong thing to say as he advances toward me. Still keeping hold of my files, I stare right back at him. His hands move out to trap me in the corner of the elevator. We’ve stopped, and I’m guessing he’s turned the security camera off, so no one knows I’m here.
Tilting my head back to look at him, I wait.
His lips are pressed into a smirk.
“My name, angel, is Chase Dunce.” He pauses, clearly giving me a few seconds to realize that he’s the boss. “Yeah, I see. Now, tell me your name.”