Stripped (2 page)

“I feel awful about leaving you in a bind, Maddy.”

“Stop.” She squeezed Racheal’s arm in a gentle but firm way. “It’s okay. You do so much for me when you don’t have to do anything.”

“You pay me to do it.”

Madison sent her a “really?” look. “I pay you shit and you know it.”

She bit her bottom lip, the guilt still evident on her face. “Can you really work something out?”

“Yes.” Probably not, but she sent Racheal a reassuring, confident smile anyway.

Racheal gave her a hard squeeze. “Thank you.” She pulled back. “What time do you have to leave?”

She glanced at the clock. “I have about two hours. I’ll spend some time with the kids, get them fed and I’ll bring them over to you around eight o’clock.”

After Racheal left, Madison took the defrosted meat out of the fridge and started making their staple Wednesday night meal: spaghetti. It was a quick, cheap meal that she could make in about thirty minutes and not take too much time from the kids.

A beeping of a watch came from the living room at the same time as Madison’s phone started to chirp. The sound of her daughter running towards the kitchen caused Madison to smile. Faith raced up to the counter, while Madison poured her a glass of water. Faith popped open the pill box marked with the correct time and date, tapped the pill into her palm then popped it into her mouth. Madison handed her the water.

“You’re doing really well about taking the meds on your own.”

Faith grinned. “It’s the watch. I’m hungry. How much longer?”

“Fifteen minutes or so. Why don’t you and your brother go wash up?”

She ran from the kitchen. Madison turned back to the boiling pot of water and started snapping the pasta in half. She hoped this medication worked. This was the second prescription they had tried to get her daughter’s seizures under control. She’d only been on it for a week. Not long enough to really take effect yet, but Madison had noticed Faith was still having the petit mals fairly often, even if her daughter wasn’t aware of it.

The medical bills were stacking up too. Thankfully, her insurance at Sutherland Investments would kick in this week. Jaxon Sutherland might be the king of the douchbags, but he did give his employees one hell of an insurance policy. While she’d always kept some sort of insurance, the policies had never been this good. With the multiple tests, MRI’s, EEGs her daughter had had over the last year to get diagnosed with epilepsy, she was up to her eyeballs in medical bills, deductibles and co-payments.

Madison was still surprised she’d gotten the job, though she knew she hadn’t been hired based on her resume. Jaxon had liked what he saw, and she’d played the “I’m hot, but don’t know it” role to perfection during the interview.
That
was why she’d gotten the job. She didn’t care. It wasn’t the first time she’d used her body to make a living and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. If he liked watching her, she’d give him a show.

“Mommy!” her son screamed from the bathroom.

One of those screams that sent shivers down a parent’s spine. She instantly dropped the spoon onto the floor, raced out of the kitchen and the few feet into the bathroom. Faith was flat on her back on the linoleum floor, arms bent tight to her chest as her entire body convulsed.

“Shit!” She had the mind to look at the clock on the counter before dropping beside her daughter. They kept a clock in every room for moments like these.

She carefully turned her daughter on her side and unbuttoned the top button of her shirt.

“Sissy hit her head,” her son sobbed as he watched his sister shake on the floor.

“It’ll be okay, Noah,” she soothed while keeping a close eye on the clock. One minute. “You know sissy has these from time-to-time. They look a lot scarier than they are for her, remember?”

He gave a jerky nod.

Two minutes. Come on. Come on. Her daughter continued to jerk. She felt so helpless when Faith had a grand mal. There was literally nothing she could do for her daughter other than turn her on her side, loosen her clothes, watch that she continued to breathe…and watch the clock.

Three minutes.

She tugged her phone out of her pocket. It would be another long night at the hospital.

CHAPTER TWO

Madison stared at her computer screen. The goal was to get the numbers listed on the piece of paper on her desk typed into a spreadsheet. Something that normally took her a few minutes tops. This morning, however, she’d been attempting to do the easy task for almost half an hour. One of two things kept happening: she either zoned out or she forgot the number as soon as she read it.

God, she was dead tired. Barely an hour of sleep would do that, she guessed. Not that she got much sleep on Wednesday nights to begin with, but she usually averaged enough to get her through most of Thursday without feeling like she couldn’t speak coherently. Unlike right now and it was barely eleven.

She’d been at the hospital with Faith until four-thirty this morning. The doctors had released her after running a few tests and finding nothing to be concerned about from the grand mal or the bump to the head.

The sleep-deprived part of her had almost won the “call in sick” battle. Fortunately, the responsible part started internally tallying her budget. A missed shift at the club and a hundred dollar E.R. copay meant she was in the red big time. Since she was still under the thirty day probation period here at Sutherland Investments, she didn’t have sick time. There was no way she could afford to lose two shifts of pay.

She kept her fingers crossed that one of the girls would give up her shift so Madison could make up the money. If one of them did, getting through today would be nothing like getting through tomorrow. But she’d do it.

She took a long gulp of her energy drink—her second of the day along with three cups of coffee. The excess in caffeine had given her the shakes but had done jack shit for waking her up.

Thankfully, Mr. Sutherland had been MIA this morning, so she hadn’t had to deal with his constantly empty coffee mug. Yes, she’d been hired to be his assistant. But every time that jerk called her into his office to make him a cup of coffee and then took it with a dismissive nod, she wished she’d poured the scalding hot liquid in his lap instead.

A soft chime came from the vicinity of the floor underneath her desk. Her purse! Worried that it may be Racheal trying to get ahold of her, she snatched it up and dug inside until she found her phone. After a grand mal, Faith usually slept most of the next day. The seizures took everything out of her. Madison hated that she was at work and not cuddled up with her daughter in bed, but she had no other choice right now.

Thankfully, the text wasn’t from Racheal. It was a missed text from Jasmine.
You can work for me tonight, Lorelei. Adam said it was okay.

She quickly sent a message back thanking Jasmine as she blinked at the burning pricks that had suddenly attacked the back of her eyes. Why was she so disappointed? To top everything else off, she would miss all her shifts this weekend and next week too. She
had
to work tonight. If she didn’t, she’d truly be fucked by the end of the month when her rent came due.

Despite her best efforts, a single tear leaked out and ran down her cheek. She angrily swiped it away. Damn it. This was one of those go to the bathroom and cry days. Though she didn’t have time for that either. Maybe she’d allow herself a self-pity meltdown tonight while she showered as she got ready to leave for work, again.

Masculine laughter sounded down the hall, shocking her out of her weak moment. She tossed her phone back in her purse and wiped her face with her fingers, making sure no moisture remained.

“That was one hell of a gala you threw last night, Mica.” Mr. Sutherland’s voice was closer now, just a few feet outside her cubicle, which was right outside his office. “The crostini was amazing. From the wine to entertainment, I can tell you spared no expense, which is my kind of party.”

Had the man ever had to order off the dollar menu? Madison rolled her eyes, thankful for the distraction of her boss. Right now, she’d rather be annoyed with his spoiled comments than wallowing in her financial worries.

There was a moment of silence before her boss laughed again. “Oh, I never kiss and tell.”

Which socialite had he taken out last night? Victoria? Whitney? Natalie? There was a list of them a mile long. She should know. Apparently one of her job descriptions was scheduling limo pick-ups and romantic dinners at overpriced restaurants. All the women he went out with came from prestigious well-established families. Which wasn’t shocking since he was a Sutherland. The man had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

When she heard the soft click of his door, she waited. Three. Two. One.

“Miss Walker. Coffee,” came the demand she heard about fifteen times a day.

Closing her eyes, she clenched her jaw. Did he have someone to wipe his ass for him when he took a shit too? Shoving back her chair, she shot to her feet and strode the few feet to his office. As she opened the door, her anger spiked at the way he was leaned back in his expensive leather office chair, still laughing into his phone.

The man took everything in life for granted.

From what she’d learned about him and his background, he came from a huge oil tycoon family out of Texas. He’d had everything handed to him since he was born.

She stormed over to the space-aged contraption he called a coffee maker. It had taken ten tries her first day to get used to the stupid thing and make him the perfect cup. At least now, she could make the single cup, put in the exact amount of hazelnut creamer and a pinch of sugar within a few minutes.

As she waited for the cup to brew, she glanced over her shoulder at her boss. He’d hung up with whoever he’d been talking to and was looking at his computer now.

What a waste of good-looks.

And Jaxon Sutherland was eye-candy galore, reminding her very much of Alexander Skarsgard, minus the Swedish accent. The man filled out a suit with his broad shoulders and trim waist. Today he wore a dark gray pinstripe and a tie with a lighter smoky gray dress shirt and looked fine as hell. She’d unfortunately found herself wondering what lay beneath the expensive fabric a time or two.

Of course then he’d open his mouth and the fantasy was ruined.

If he’d just shut up so her mind could continue going down Naughty Lane. With two kids and two jobs, her social life was non-existent. She couldn’t remember the last date she’d been on…and sex? What the hell was that?

Dragging her gaze away, she removed the coffee cup then headed for his desk. As she handed it to him, he glanced up and their eyes met. As always, her insides ignited in an insane amount of fluttering considering who was in front of her. She blamed her constant reaction on the icy blue of his eyes. She’d never seen a color quite like it, almost like a robin’s egg.

As usual, he took the cup with a nod and turned back to his computer. She clenched her hands into fists and spun around. Jackass. What really pissed her off was noticing things like his stupid eyes and how good he looked in a suit. The man was nothing more than a spoiled brat. At some point, her disdain for him should outweigh his looks. So far, that hadn’t happened.

Just as she was halfway across the room, he said, “Miss Walker?”

She stopped herself from heaving a frustrated sigh and looked over her shoulder back at him, eyebrow raised in question.

He lifted the cup up, and without looking away from his computer screen, he said, “Thank you.”

Her mouth popped open. Like literally fell open. Words eluded her for a moment, then she strung together, “Uh, y-you’re welcome, Mr. Sutherland.”

As she turned back toward the door, a small smile came to her lips. Maybe he was teachable after all.

***

See? He could be nice.

Miss Walker’s lecture from yesterday had bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Though he really didn’t give a flying flip if he hurt someone’s feelings, that disapproving look she’d given him had bugged him—all goddamn night. So much so, he hadn’t even enjoyed Victoria’s attention. He ended up leaving the gala and taking her home early—much to his surprise, and her disappointment.

Why did he care so much about what Miss Walker thought? She wasn’t anything more than a secretary to him. Hell, she hadn’t even worked for him that long.

Maybe it was because he was Jaxon Sutherland. He wasn’t used to anyone looking at him with disapproval. Disdain maybe, fear sure, envy definitely, but open disapproval…never.

It didn’t sit well with him. Made him antsy. A feeling he wasn’t comfortable with.

So if it’d made her feel better to be thanked from time to time, what would it hurt? Nothing, really. She was a great employee. He’d hate to lose her over something as trivial as niceties.

Besides, hearing her obvious surprise at the gesture had been worth it. She had some kind of ill-conceived notion about him. Some of that was his fault from the way he conducted business. But she didn’t know a damn thing about him outside of this office. And it irked the shit out of him that she’d set her mind on the type of person he was without really knowing him.

His phone rang, knocking him out of his sour thoughts. Seeing that it was one of his negotiators, Ben, he quickly answered it, hoping for good news.

“Talk to me,” he greeted.

“He won’t budge.”

Giving a frustrated sigh, Jaxon tunneled his fingers through his hair, then knotted a handful of it at the crown of his head. “Fuck. Did you up the offer?”

“I did exactly what you told me to do. He told me to get the fuck out of his club before,” Ben paused. “Jaxon, he actually picked up a shotgun and said, ‘before I introduce you to my boom-stick’.”

Boom-stick.
Jaxon chuckled, appreciating the Army of Darkness reference. If he didn’t want the land the club sat on, he thought he might actually like the ornery Adam McDaniel.

“I’ll go down there myself.”

“I’m telling you this guy isn’t going to budge.”

“Everyone has their price. We haven’t found his sweet spot yet. Ten minutes with him and I’ll know exactly what he wants.”

“Whatever you say, boss. Good luck.”

As he hung up, he lifted his mug to his mouth and realized it was empty. Already.

“Miss Walker,” he said as he pressed the intercom button.

Why did he keep doing that? Before he’d hired her, he’d always made his own coffee. At first, it was because he enjoyed the stunning view. But the novelty of that should have worn off within a few days. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t surrounded by gorgeous women. He was. Daily. There was something about her that he didn’t get tired of looking at. Even though he knew getting his coffee for him irritated the hell out of her.

When she stepped into the room, he kept his attention on the computer screen and held out his mug, refusing to glance at her. He didn’t care for the weird sensations that went off inside him any time they made eye contact. The stimulating current of attraction he had to this woman beat any he’d felt before.

It spooked the shit out of him.

As she took the mug, her floral perfume hit his nose and his body came to life in a buzz of energy. His grip on his mouse tightened. So much for not looking at her. Just her scent did him in. Fucking great. Maybe he should indulge in a little office affair. This off-limit rule he’d made for himself was making her a greater temptation. If he got her out of his system, then maybe he’d get his shit together. And he’d never had a woman refuse him yet.

She had her back to him as she made his coffee, so he turned his attention away from the screen and on her. Today she wore a light blue silky blouse tucked into black dress slacks. The spikes of her black high heels peeked out from the hem of her pants. She always wore heels. Tall ones. Sexy ones. Different ones. More than once he’d envisioned her in nothing but them.

As usual, her hair was up in a bun. Not once had she worn it down. How long was it? Did it barely brush her shoulders or cascade down to mid-back? Everything about this woman called to his primal instinct to fuck. Right here. On this desk. Bent over it. Underneath it. Anywhere. Everywhere.

When she turned toward him with a steaming cup, he quickly locked his eyes back on the computer screen. The last thing he needed was her catching him staring at her like some starving animal.

“Will there be anything else, Mr. Sutherland?” she asked.

Hearing the unexpected husky timbre of her voice instantly brought his gaze up to her. For a split second, their eyes met and his chest tightened. Then he noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Not that the fatigued look was anything new. He’d picked up a pattern with her. At the beginning of the week, she seemed to have a lot more energy. But something happened as the days wore on, and by Thursday, she always seemed a little out of it.

She appeared dead on her feet today, more than usual.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, and could’ve bitten his tongue off as soon as the question was out of his mouth.

If her blinking was any indication, she was just as surprised by his inquiry. “Yes. Why?”

He was already in this deep, he might as well jump all in. “Quite frankly, you look like an extra on The Walking Dead.”