Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love) (18 page)

He pulled up
and parked in front of her rundown, poorly lit apartment complex. Man, this
place looked ready-ordered for crime. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

Dawn grimaced.
“Thank you. Last night, some creep attacked my friend before she could enter the
building.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she
kicked him in the balls and got inside before he recovered.”

“She call the
cops?”

“No, she just packed
up and left this morning. The guy probably just wanted to steal her purse, but
with the serial rapist out there, she decided to move home to New Jersey.”

“I got a
friend on the force. They’re closing in on him. He’ll be caught soon.”

“The sooner,
the better,” she muttered.

While Dawn
liked to play the tough girl, he sensed her friend’s attack had rattled her
cage as well. He got out of the car, triggered the locks, and walked around to her
side. Before he could open her door, something caught his attention. Noting a
man in the shadows near a large oak, he used their bar hand signals to tell her
they had trouble on the right and to wait.

Leaving her
safe inside the limo, he unlatched the safety on his gun holster and walked
directly to the guy. As he came closer, the hairs on the back of his neck rose.
The man exuded rage and anger. Ragged red streaks ran down his left cheek.

“You the
rapist?” Sam asked in a casual tone one might ask if someone is a clerk in a
store.

“Beat it,
pervert, I don’t do men.”

“Just women,
huh?”

“I’m not telling
you again, beat it.”

“Looks like
one of them tried to scratch your eyes out?” Sam smiled as he tapped his own
left cheek.

“Last
warning,” the guy growled.

“Or what?”

Silver flashed
as the man pushed off the tree and came at him. An instant later, the man
screamed in pain over his broken nose as he lay face down on the sidewalk.

Using plastic
ties Sam kept in his jacket to confine the occasional out-of-control bar
customer, he secured the guy. Pulling out his phone, he stepped away. “Joey,
Sam. You want to pick up some trash? He might be the Brooklyn Rapist…No. I’m
serious...Then put on a dark suit so you look like a limo driver and come on
over. I don’t want the credit. He’s underneath the tree with a broken nose. He
didn’t get a good look at me, so just let him see your face and you’ll be a
hero.”

After hanging
up the phone, Sam returned to his limo and opened her door. “Sorry. Thought I
saw some guy by the tree and wanted to scare him off before I let you out.”

By the grip on
his arm, and the speed of their ‘walk’ to her door, he knew she hadn’t bought
his story.

When she
unlocked her door, he came in to check it out. After a brief look around the
one and a half room dive, he declared, “No unwanted tenants, unless cockroaches
count.”

Dawn rolled
her eyes. “They are
so
unwanted, but I can’t get rid of them.”

“Try moving to
a better place. That should help.”

She chuckled.
“I can barely afford this dump.” She stood in the middle of her single room and
stared at him. “I really appreciate you walking me to my door.”

He heard a
‘but it’s time to leave’ coming. “In return, perhaps you can offer me a
coffee…drinkable coffee.” He shivered as he recalled the cup at the bar.

She stared at
him. “Fair enough, but then you have to go. I just got a second job, and I have
to be at work at ten.”

“Lucky you.” A
yawn burst from his tire body. “I have to drive Master Trent to his office at
six in the morning, even though it’s only two freakin’ blocks from his
penthouse.”

With a soft
moan, she meet his gaze. “Man, I’d love to live two blocks from my job.”

“When the home
is a penthouse and the job is CEO, the pleasure of a short walk to work is lost
upon the recipient of good fortune. He goes nuts if I’m not there to drive him.

She led him to
the couch. “Sit. Your coffee will be ready in two.”

Angry screams
erupted in the hallway and someone crashed against Dawn’s door. Sam stood and
drew his gun.

“Jesus!” Dawn
yelped. “Put that away! It’s just my neighbors.”

He ignored her
until he heard the fighting move further down the hall. Finally, he holstered
his gun.

Storming
toward him, she hissed, “Are you crazy, carrying a gun?”

“I have a
license.”

“Why?” She
snared both his hands and stepped in close.

They both said
“Master Trent” in unison. Dawn chuckled and pressed her forehead against his.
“You have the strangest life.”

Her enticing
bottom lip hovered only inches away, taunting him to nibble. He shifted his
head and leaned forward, only seconds from capturing it, when the coffee beeped
and Dawn stepped back.

“Coffee’s
ready,” she declared with the nervous energy of a rabbit in flight.

Sam collapsed
on the couch. He’d get no sex tonight.

She brought
him a cup and sat in the chair across from his to watch him drink it.

“Aren’t you
having one?”

She wrapped
herself with her arms. “No, I need to get to sleep.”

“Right.” He
sighed.

“You should
get some sleep too.”

His head flopped
against the back of the couch and he stared up at her water-stained ceiling.
“I’m dead tired, but I’ve got a two hour drive ahead of me.”

“Two hours?”
Her voice held both pity and doubt, as if she didn’t believe him.

He closed his
eyes. “I’ll try to make it in one.” The couch dip beside him.

“Where are you
driving to?”

“Master
Trent’s Long Island Estate. The job comes with free room and board.”

“But you said
you have to be back in the city at six.”

“Good point.
Think anyone would complain if I slept in the limo?”

“Yeah, I
would.”

“Et tu
Brutus?”

She pulled the
coffee from his hands then cupped the back of his head, lifting it so she could
look into his eyes. “You can stay here if you want.”

He studied her
worried eyes. “Thank you.”

She hurried
from the room, no doubt wishing to wash certain parts of her body and shave her
legs.

His mental
high fives ended when she returned a minute later with a pillow and two sheets.

The limo would
be more comfortable than this couch. As she set the items on the couch, he
pulled her next to him.

Guarded eyes
warned him not to even bother, so he didn’t. “I have a proposition.”

With a heavy
sigh, she said, “Sam, I don’t think this is a good idea. You’re in a really
strange place right now.”

Pressing two
fingers against that delicious bottom lip, he continued, “We both need sleep.
Would you mind if I shared your bed? No sex. Just let me hold you so I can
sleep.”

Her eyes
rounded, losing their guarded look. A faint smile pushed up the corners of her mouth.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

He nodded.

The phone
buzzed inside his vest. Probably Joey wishing to thank him for the collar. He
could leave a message; Sam needed to snag a bed for the night.

“Okay,” she
softly said and led him to her tiny closet of a bedroom.

To make her feel
safe, he undressed while she puttered in her bathroom, placed his gun beneath
the mattress, and took the right side of the bed.

He intended to
cuddle with her when she returned, but she took too long.

* * * *

Sam woke to
the faint beep of his watch. To turn it off, he had to work around Dawn,
snuggled tight against him.

A disgruntled
groan rumbled from the blonde beauty who wore the sexiest teddy he’d ever seen.
Certainly not something she’d wear unless ‘no’ really meant ‘yes.’ He tested
his theory by running his hand down her hip. She rolled onto her back,
spreading her legs so his hand had access to the ‘yes’ zone.

Most women
looked considerably worse in the morning than they did when he took them home.
However, Dawn appeared even more enticing with her bedroom hair and a slight
flush to her cheeks. Testing the waters further, he slipped his hand deeper
between her legs. Her hips arched upward.

“What time is
it?” her groggy voice asked.

“Five-ten.”

“Do you have
time?” Her hungry eyes met his. God, he liked her current honesty. No
pretending to be asleep, no uncertainty as to what she wanted.

“Yeah. Master
Trent’s going to have to walk or call a cab. I’ve got something more important
to do.”

She rewarded
him with a beautiful smile. He covered her body and devoured that delicious
bottom lip.

“Where’s Sam?”
Trent asked his butler as Carrie and he finished breakfast.

Mars blinked
once then replied, “He’s not here, sir.”

“Did he go
back to Long Island?” His driver had the sense of a chicken at times.

“No, I called
there. However, he did leave me a text message this morning. I fear you will
need to take a hired car to work, sir.”

Trent set down
his fork. “Why, what did he say?”

Carrie laughed
as read a text on her phone. “He says ‘take a taxi or walk.’” She smiled. “I
vote walk.”

Trent pulled
the phone from her hand and read the message. The fool didn’t even give a
reason why he couldn’t do his job.

Standing,
Carrie retrieved and put away her phone.

Trent gripped her
arm before she could leave the table. “Hold on. Where are you going?”

“To your room
to change into my tennis shoes.”

God save him!
“We can’t walk. Someone will see me with this thing on my nose.”

She laughed at
his protest. “Well, at least you have a nose. Do you have a hat and
sunglasses?”

If he admitted
he did, she’d insist on walking…in tennis shoes. “No.”

Instead of
taking him at his word and giving up her preposterous suggestion, she turned to
Mars. “Does Trent have any hats and sunglasses?”

Trent shook
his head when the man looked his way.

“No miss. All
his, dare I say, stylish gangster hats are at the cleaners.”

Touché! Mars
hated his hats, declaring they possessed a decided threatening quality to them.
Which was exactly why Trent liked them. He’d hoped if his hats threatened
people, he wouldn’t have to.

“Sunglasses?”
She persisted. “He must have sunglasses, and don’t tell me they went to the
cleaners to visit the hats?”

Mars’ eyes
rounded at her suggestion. “I would never suggest such a thing,” he stated with
clear agitation.

The absurd
image of his sunglasses visiting his hats, with Mars looking on in horror,
caused Trent to laugh heartedly.

When he
sobered, he discovered Carrie had snuck off. Annoyed how everyone abandoned
him, he called Sam. After four rings it went to messenger. “Sam, this is your
employer, the person you are supposed to drive about. It is not acceptable for
you to take time off without my approval. However, I will overlook your
unacceptable behavior if you arrive here in five minutes” He looked up at Mars.
“I want my driver. Make it happen.”

Mars nodded
and left the room.

Hopefully, to
call Sam, but with his employees nothing was certain.

Carrie
returned, wearing her ugly tennis shoes. He closed his eyes, so he wouldn’t
have to look at the monstrosities. “What’s on our agenda today?”

“Well, I’ve
called the company who installed our door. They regret it broke your nose.”

“Not as much
as I do,” he muttered.

Patting his
arm, she added, “They’ve promised to fix it this morning.”

He snorted.
“Meaning they’ll get around to it sometime next week. What else?”

“I planned for
us to call Mr. Marshall the moment he gets in. I’m going to start calling his
private number at seven.”

Trent tensed
and held firm to her hand. “How do you have his private number?”

She leaned in
and whispered in his ear. “The card he gave you listed it.”

Trent relaxed.
“And why are we calling him?” He held his hand out to silence her. “I remember.
He has to provide us free advice until he does his job.”

Carrie
sparkled with delight as she nodded. Either a good night’s sleep, the lack of a
long commute, or the fact they’d slept snuggled together had his EA happier
than he’d ever seen her.

He rather
hoped their snuggling had brought about the improvement.

“Also, I need
to verify that Chris, our ‘test-taking’ employee, returned and worked last
night,” she added.

He shook his
head. “He probably spent his evening celebrating his passing grade on the test.
And he won’t be in today because he’s looking for a new job.”

Carrie snorted
and shook her head. “Do you know how hard it is to find a fulltime job that
meshes with a fulltime school schedule?”

While he did
not hold her responsible for his worthless employees, her acceptance of the
situation made him want to yell. He forced a calm response, so she wouldn’t
know how infuriating he found her response. “Are you saying my company is
unique in offering this opportunity?”

She grimaced
and then focused on Mars, no doubt wishing to change the topic. “Mars, what is
your real name?”

The butler
stared at her with his expressionless face. “Mars.”

“No, your
real
real name?”

The smallest
furrow of his brow appeared for a second. “Marston.”

Carrie must
have noticed as well.

“Oh, so you
prefer Mars.”

“Yes, miss.”

“Do you know
what the other butler’s real name is?”

Mars sighed
heavily and looked at Trent, evidently wanting him to put a stop to this
interrogation. Instead, Trent shrugged, letting the man know he was on his own.

His fierce
gaze locked onto Carrie. “His ‘
real
real’ name is Martin.”

“Oh.” She
paused and then braved another question. “Does he prefer Mars as well?”

“I couldn’t
say, miss. You will have to ask him.”

Trent chuckled
as he watched Carrie give up her plan to give his butlers their true names. She
looked up and grinned then resumed reading her iPhone. She lost her smile soon
after. “I have to walk to work and check things out. You should stay here.”

All his
disaster alarms went off at once. “I’m going with you.”

“No, I’ll be
fine.” She stood and pointed to her ghastly tennis shoes. “I should be back in
an hour or two.”

When Carrie
ran off without him, Trent knew whatever she’d read on her phone was something
so awful, she didn’t dare tell him.

He stood and
turned to Mars. “Find Sam, tell him to go directly to the office and bring his
gun.”

Mars blinked
three times, an all time record of shock. “You cannot shoot employees, sir. The
police will arrest you, and believe me when I say this, you would not do well
in the prison system.”

“Stop telling
me things I know and locate Sam. Something’s happened.” He checked himself in
one of his many wall mirrors, cringing at the ugly white bandage marring his
good looks. He didn’t care what he looked like, his gut told him he needed to
save Carrie. “And bring me a hat and sunglasses, I’m going to work!”