Authors: Clara Bayard
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
My mouth hung open with shock for a long moment. "Sam?"
He had on reflective sunglasses that hid his dark eyes, but his regal nose and wide jaw were familiar. As was the hair that curled over his ears and down to his neck, a little wild and very sexy.
"Carly, are you following me around town trying to push me over?" His arms wrapped around me in a tight hug that nearly lifted me off of my feet. "You could have just called."
The tiny moment of being close to him again warmed me and I inhaled his scent. "What are you doing here? Aside from taking up the whole sidewalk with your big body."
"As I recall," he murmured into my ear before releasing me, "You're kind of a fan of my big…everything."
I blushed and smacked him lightly on the arm, wincing as my sore palm hit his jacket. "Ouch."
Sam grabbed my hand and looked at it. "What happened? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just took a little tumble earlier."
"Do you need a bandage?"
"No, I'm fine. Really. Um, what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing." His gaze raked over me and I almost panted. The heat and desire in him pushed everything else to the back of my mind.
"I'm uh, just running an errand. I work a couple of blocks from here."
"Ah."
"What about you?"
"Oh, I am meeting someone. This is the closest parking space I could find."
"Yeah, it's busy down here all day."
"Yeah."
It pinged in my mind that he was being evasive, but maybe I was projecting. I certainly wasn't going to tell the hot guy who'd shown me hours of sexual pleasure that I was headed to the police station to report my part in what I though could be a big crime. Not exactly sexy.
"Well, I'm glad I ran into you. Or rather, you ran into me. Again."
"You are?"
"Yeah. I meant to call you yesterday but I got busy. I was thinking we should go out. On an actual date."
I smiled. "I'd like that."
He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. "I would too. Are you free tomorrow night?"
"Yes." I'd expected him to schedule something for next weekend, but was silently pleased that he didn't want to wait that long. I didn't either.
"You sure? Don't need to check a calendar or something?"
"No. My social schedule isn't that full."
"Okay. Dinner? I'll pick you up at seven."
"Sounds good."
"Great."
We stood there staring at each other for a while. It was a weird situation, setting up a first date with someone you've already had sex with. But looking at him, I was all in. Friday night he'd been in regular guy club gear, nice jeans and a tight shirt. On the street he was wearing a light jacket over black slacks and a button-down shirt. The collar was open and I could see a tiny strip of chest hair that reminded me of how it felt to run my hands through it.
"Um… I guess I should go then," I finally said.
"Yeah." He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I closed my eyes for a second as his lips touched my skin, enjoying the contact. "See you tomorrow."
"Yup." I didn't move.
"God, I wish I didn't have to go," he said. "You look so good right now."
I knew he was lying. My hair was a tangled mess and my clothes were dirty and mussed from the fall and bike ride. But it was sweet anyway, so I smiled. "See you later, Sam."
"Absolutely." He cupped my shoulder in one big hand for a second and then walked down the street towards the police station and whatever his actual destination was. I watched him go for a little while, but the warmth and excitement from our conversation faded as his wide back retreated in the distance.
Completely thrown, I realized I wasn't in any condition to talk to the cops or anyone else just yet. If I went in looking and feeling like I did they'd either lock me up or laugh me out of the building. I needed time to think and prepare. I realized I was stalling, but seeing Sam reminded me that I had a lot to lose if I handled things wrong. After casting one last glance over my shoulder I walked back up the block to the bus stop and waited for a ride home.
The next day at work I was as jumpy as a cat. Every time the door opened or the phone rang I freaked out. I'd barely slept the night before, turning the situation over and over in my mind, trying to find a perfect solution that didn't exist. My nerves were completely shot by the time Mitchell showed up, but I managed to at least act as if everything was okay.
"Good morning," I said, getting up to fetch him a cup of coffee like always.
"Anything important happening right now?"
"No. But…there is something I want to talk to you about."
"Fine. Bring my coffee back to my office and give me an hour. I'll let you know when I'm ready." With that he stomped down the hallway and slammed his door. Even for The Slug that was rude.
I dumped the usual tooth-ache inducing amount of sugar into his coffee and stirred it, wondering how to approach him. I knew I couldn't come right out and accuse him of being involved in selling drugs. But maybe there was a way to find out what he did know without being so obvious.
With a derisive snort I rolled my eyes at myself. "Yeah right. Because you're Veronica Mars and Nancy Drew all of the sudden?"
The fact was, I had no idea what I'd gotten into and the only people I could turn to were the police. I delivered The Slug's coffee and went back to my desk, but got very little accomplished.
Finally, Mitchell yelled through his door for me to come back there. Why he couldn't use the intercom button that was three inches from his hand I've never understood, but he never did.
I switched the phones over and went back, chewing on my lower lip relentlessly. I knocked on the door and pushed it open.
"Sit down and shut the door, Carly."
I did, perching on the end of the metal folding chair that serves as his "guest seat."
"Before you start justifying your behavior, just tell me what happened yesterday."
"I…Well, I was in early, as you requested. Dr. Kent called to check in on his pick-up because Darius was running late. I tried to find him, but-"
"Stop. I don't give a shit about some flakey bike messenger. Tell me why this office was locked up tight all day."
"What?" I'd been so busy rattling off the little speech I'd practiced that I forgot to actually listen to what he said. "Oh. The two things are related."
He sighed and pursed his slimy little lips. "Fine. Go on."
I gulped. "So, like I said, I was trying to hunt down Darius but I couldn't. And Dr. Kent seemed kind of impatient. I didn't want to lose an important customer so I told him I'd take care of it."
"And did you?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"Well no one else was here so I borrowed one of the bikes and made the delivery myself."
He shot to his feet, face going bright red. "You what?"
"I picked up the package and delivered it. A little late, but that was better than nothing."
I couldn't tell what the look on Mitchell's face meant, but it wasn't good. A vein in his forehead pulsed and I shrank back instinctively.
As if he'd just noticed he was standing, Mitchell looked down at his desk and then sat back down, but his face was still the color of a ripe tomato. "Okay. Then what?"
"When I got back I um…didn't feel well. So after some of the guys came in I asked them to cover the phones and went home sick. I'm sorry and I know I should have called you, but I…"
I held up my hands and looked at him. My god, he was furious. I could practically see the noxious waves of anger coming off of him.
"Do you have any idea what you've done, Carly?"
"Yes. No. I mean I'm sorry. I wasn't sure how to handle it and I did the best I could."
"You're not a delivery girl. You're the office girl."
"I know. It will never happen again. I can try to come up with a system when there's a situation like this. Maybe a policy for some of the guys to be on-call? I'll figure something out."
"Damn it, I don't give a shit about that right now. If that package hadn't made it I'd be ruined, do you understand that?"
"Yes," I whispered, even though I knew he didn't really need me to respond.
"There are…uh..." he paused as if searching for the right words, "Insurance considerations here. If you can't be more responsible I'll have to reconsider your place at this company."
"Yes, sir. I understand."
"Good." He cleared his throat a couple of times. "Now, go back to work. I have things to do."
I stood up and nodded before heading back out to my desk on shaky legs. When I sat down I noticed the phone assigned to Darius was still in its charger, which meant he still hadn't come in.
Trying to put the confrontation with Mitchell behind me I opened the day's schedule. All of the runs normally assigned to Darius had been portioned out to the other guys. That was weird. If he was sick or quit why hadn't Mitchell mentioned it?
I was about to go ask him when an idea flared in the back of my mind, growing bigger and bigger. The Slug's overreaction, Darius's mysterious disappearance. It had to be related to the drugs, the timing was too coincidental. Which meant my boss
was
involved. And he knew what package I'd accidentally delivered. But he didn't know about my fall or that I'd seen the contents of the delivery, so he had no reason to suspect I knew what he was up to. Or so I hoped.
My first instinct was to run. Grab my purse and just get the hell out of there. But that would only make Mitchell suspicious. I thought about calling Anna, but I didn't want to drag her into this mess. Besides, I knew she'd tell me to forget about the job and the cops and just leave. She'd say nothing mattered more than my safety, which was true – to a point. Every minute I didn't report what I saw things got worse for me.
Another panic attack was brewing in me and I had to stop it. Had to find time to calmly decide what to do. Everything would be fine if I could just settle down enough to think.
But this was not a day for calm or thinking. Within minutes I was so busy I barely had time to eat lunch and get bathroom breaks. It seemed the changes The Slug made to the schedule had messed everyone up, and a huge accident downtown was just making it worse. We were a guy down and twice as busy as a regular Tuesday.
I spent the rest of the day on the phone, trying to keep deliveries on track and customers happy. Mitchell, of course, was no help at all. On the rare occasions he emerged from his office, he pointedly ignored my pleas for assistance and went on doing whatever the hell he was doing. Two trips to the storage room, a nice long cigarette break and a series of long phone calls were all I noticed, but he must have accomplished something.
By the time the day was over I felt completely drained. I was halfway home on the bus when I remembered my date with Sam. I had to cancel. This was not the time to be going out to dinner. But in the selfish part of me, I didn't want to cancel. I wanted to go out with a hot guy and forget about all of my troubles. Besides, I wasn't going to make any decisions that night anyway. Might as well have a good time while I still could.
Thoroughly convinced, I got showered and changed quickly, and was sitting in my nicest dress and heels when Sam buzzed my apartment. I asked if he wanted to come up, but he said we had a reservation to meet.
I went down and climbed into his car, the black sedan he'd been standing next to when I saw him yesterday.
"You look great," he said as I settled in and buckled my seatbelt.
"So do you." That was an understatement. He was stunning in a dark suit and no tie. His hair was slicked back and the spicy scent of his aftershave filled the car. I was really happy I'd gone all out in a deep red dress that showed off my cleavage, cinched in my waist and flared to make my curves look sexy instead of bulky.
We made somewhat awkward small-talk on the way to the restaurant. It was weird getting to know someone you've already had sex with. But Sam was funny and did more than his share of carrying the conversation.
So many heads turned as we walked through the restaurant to our table that I peeked over my shoulder to see if someone famous was coming in after us. But no, they were just staring at Sam. And I couldn't blame them. His long, sinuous stride reminded me of a lion, all grace and power.
He put his hand on the small of my back as he slid past me to sit in the chair against the wall. I'd been hoping to sit there myself for the people-watching possibilities, but it wasn't important.
By the time we settled in, my nerves were completely jangled. I practically screamed "Yes" when the waiter asked if we wanted a drink while we looked over the menus. A little alcohol was exactly what I needed to chill the hell out before I bolted.
Sam cocked his head to the side and eyed me. "You look terrified."
I snorted. "I am. But pretend you can't tell, okay?"
"Not a chance." He bumped my leg with his under the table. "What's wrong?"
"It's not you, I swear. You're perfect. Which is part of the problem."
"Why?"
"Well, I'm a mess. And you're so perfect you even notice I'm a mess and try to help."
"Ah, I see. Well, I will try to ignore your feelings. Is that better?"
A genuine smile spread across my face. "Much. Thanks."
"Good. Now, what else is wrong?"
"What happened to ignoring my feelings?"
He smiled slyly. "I lied. Tell me."
"It's nothing. Just a really bad day."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No. Fuck, no." I cringed at my word choice and hung my head. "God, I am such a loser right now. You'd think I was some rube who's never been in a nice restaurant before."
Sam chuckled. "I don't care. And I don't want you to be anyone besides who you are. Besides," he continued, voice lowered. "I like when you talk dirty."
I bit my lower lip as a bolt of heat went through me.
"Mmm. Mission accomplished," Sam said.
"What?"
"Got you to stop thinking about your problems, didn't I?"
"Yes," I admitted. "I'm thinking about something very different now."