Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Lifting her mug of coffee from the round patio table, Melinda blinked at me. “You’re dating Dane? Dane as in your boss Dane?”

The rusty wrought-iron patio chair creaked as I squirmed a little in my seat. “Yes.” I usually found it relaxing to sit in my foster parents’ backyard and listen to the sound of wood snapping in the firepit. Today? Not so much. Because I had to lie to them. I knew they’d be disappointed in me for being so unprofessional as to get involved with my boss, but I couldn’t tell them the truth.

I took a swig from my beer bottle, bracing myself for a “that’s not smart, you could jeopardize your job” lecture. I wouldn’t go on the defensive. Nope. Their concern would be well-warranted.

As if the dog sensed my tension, Ranger padded over to me. I stroked his short, coarse fur, becoming more and more uncomfortable as the silence dragged on.

I looked at Melinda just in time to see her shoot Wyatt a smug grin.

“Told you,” she taunted him.

I felt my brow crease. “What?”

Wyatt shrugged. “We’re not stupid, sweetheart. We worked out for ourselves that you two are interested in each other. I mean, you made it clear that he can be hell to work for at times, but you never once told us you were thinking of quitting.”

Melinda nodded. “When you first got the job, you told us not to get too excited; that he’d probably fire you after a week or so. Weeks went by, and you were still there. Those weeks turned into months, and those months turned into years. Unless there’s something I don’t know, he’s never threatened to fire you.”

“I’m good at my job,” I said.

“We don’t doubt that,” Wyatt assured me. “But we know our girl. We know you lose all tact if someone pushes your buttons hard enough. You can’t tell us there were times when you didn’t show him a little attitude.”

Okay, so I’d occasionally flipped him off or called him a rude asshole. But I’d come to learn that Dane wanted to have at least a few people who’d be honest with him; who’d see past the CEO title and not pussyfoot around him. Of course, if I’d ever showed him attitude in the presence of others, he’d have probably fired me on the spot.

“Wyatt said that you and Dane wouldn’t cross the platonic line,” added Melinda. “But I said it would happen eventually. There’s only so long you can fight what you feel for someone. So, who made the first move, you or him?”

I shook my head. “Oh no, I’m not giving you the ins and outs of how it all went down.” I’d tell them as few lies as possible. “But I will say that it’s serious.”

“Serious to you or to both of you?” she asked.

“To both of us.” I rubbed my arm as a cool breeze swept over my skin and rustled the dandelions and long grass. “I know you must be thinking it’s too soon for me to be sure of that—”

“No, sweetie, I’m not,” said Melinda. “You two have spent pretty much every day in each other’s company for the past four years. You might not have been sleeping together, but your relationship probably hasn’t been emotionally platonic for a while now. You’ve had a sort of workplace-partnership for a long time. If you care for each other, I can imagine it feels almost effortless for you to switch to a real partnership.” She squeezed my hand. “I’m happy for you, and I hope it works out.”

And now I felt awful. They were being so understanding and supportive, and I was being a big fat liar.

Standing, Wyatt grabbed some firewood from the pile and tossed it into the pit. “Have you told your dad yet?”

I sighed. “No. I will. I just … I worry he won’t take it well. He doesn’t like change.”

“Your happiness is important to him, though.” Retaking his seat, Wyatt grabbed his beer from the table. “He’ll be pleased for you if he thinks Dane makes you happy.”

“Yes, but if some part of Simon feels threatened or off-balance by my having a man in my life, I might find myself dealing with Deacon.”

“I’ve never come face to face with Deacon—he doesn’t seem interested in talking with me or Melinda. But from the things you’ve told me about him, I don’t believe he would hurt you.”

“He might try to hurt Dane, though.” Deacon in a rage wasn’t pretty. I’d seen him lash out at people and knock them down flat. “Then Simon, Freddie, and Maggie would be upset.”

Melinda let out a long breath. “The situation breaks my heart, you know.”

I nodded. “Yeah, mine, too.”

“Does Dane know about it?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I’ll tell him at some point. It’s just such a hard situation to properly explain. And then questions will follow that won’t be fun to answer.”

Just then, the sound of a door shutting came from inside the house.

“Oh, that’s probably Heather and Junior,” said Melinda. “She called earlier to say she might visit.”

I kept my groan of annoyance to myself. I knew it pained Melinda and Wyatt that Heather and I didn’t see eye to eye. I wished, for their sake, that I could make it happen. But even if too much hadn’t gone on between us, Heather would never be interested in us having a sisterly relationship.

I’d never quite worked out why she hated me so much. Maybe it was simply that all her parents’ attention had been focused on her until I came along. I was the first child they’d fostered, and Heather had made me feel unwelcome from second one.

Okay, that was an understatement. She’d been an epic bitch who’d loved to sneakily bully and terrorize me.

She’d knocked me around, forced dog food in my mouth, bit me hard enough to mark, and pulled a knife on me several times. That wasn’t even the worst of it.

When Melinda and Wyatt finally learned of it all, they’d been both horrified and devastated. They’d also cracked down hard on Heather. Their punishments hadn’t been physical, but they’d been highly effective. The abuse had then stopped, but she’d continued with her bitchy ways.

Even now as an adult, Heather did petty and mean shit like flirt with my boyfriends, cause drama on my birthdays, or make belittling comments to me. She had a pathological need to feel superior to everyone else, particularly me.

Maybe she was just a fucking crank—I was pretty open to that theory. I mean, surely it wasn’t normal to get a perverse joy out of causing drama and destruction; it was like it made Heather feel powerful.

I knew Melinda and Wyatt blamed themselves and often wondered where they went wrong with her. I hated that. They were good people, and they deserved better.

Junior came rushing out onto the deck, smiling wide. “Grandma!”

“Hey, mister.” Melinda helped him climb onto her lap. “I’ve missed you.” She pressed several kisses to his face, making him chuckle.

I smiled. “Hi, kiddo.”

He gave me a shy wave, knowing better than to give me any affection in front of his mother—Heather didn’t like it. I’d hug him when she wasn’t looking.

He was always dressed in expensive designer clothes, much like Heather herself. In some ways, she treated him like a doll. An accessory, even. But at least she wasn’t cruel to him. She fed him and kept him clean, which was more than my mother had done for me.

Strolling onto the deck like it was a catwalk, Heather gave me a long look but said nothing. Turning to her mother, she flicked her glossy brown hair over her shoulder. “Mom, I was hoping you and Dad could watch Junior for me for a few hours. I have a date.”

“Of course we will,” replied Melinda.

“We love having our little guy with us,” added Wyatt.

It wasn’t nice that she dumped Junior on them so often, but it was better for the kid that he was around people who’d openly show him love. I’d never once seen Heather kiss or hug him.

“Tell me about this man you’re seeing,” Melinda said to her.

Heather’s red-painted lips curved. “I met him at a bar last week. His name’s Thad Drummond. He’s an attorney. Lives near the marina. You’d like him. I was originally going to meet up with him last night but, well … he had to rearrange.”

Probably because the guy’s wife wanted his company. I’d never met him, but I knew he was married. How? Single men held no appeal for Heather. She was only ever attracted to a man if he was taken. Once he’d left his wife, Heather lost interest in him and soon after moved on. But not before said man had lavished her with expensive gifts.

Her eyes darted to me. “Maybe I could ask him if he has a brother for you. You’ve been single for too long. You shouldn’t give up just because you’ve so far struggled to hold a man.”

“Heather,” drawled Wyatt. It was a warning.

She widened her eyes. “What? I’m just saying.”

“As it happens, Vienna has a man,” Melinda cut in. She squeezed my hand. “I’m real pleased for you, sweetheart.”

“And who is this man?” asked Heather, her gaze hard.

“His name is Dane Davenport,” said Melinda. “I have to say, I love the name Dane. I’m really looking forward to meeting him.”

“Wait, are you talking about her boss?” Heather looked at me. “You’re dating your boss?”

“Yes,” I said before sipping my drink.

“And here I was thinking you were smart.” Heather snorted. “Sleeping with your boss is a sure-fire way to eventually lose your job.”

“Not if they have serious feelings for each other, which they do,” said Melinda. “Perhaps you could try being happy for her.”

Heather’s eyes flared. She drew a long breath through her nose and then shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t worry, I won’t be trunk. I mean, drunk.”

I narrowed my eyes. She’d said “trunk” on purpose, knowing the memories the word could spark—memories I quickly shoved back into their mental drawer.

“Heather,” snapped Wyatt.

Smirking, the bitch swanned back into the house and then left.

The tension slipped from my shoulders and I took another swig of my drink. There was seriously a special place in hell reserved for that woman. “Junior, where are my cuddles?” After I’d spent a good few minutes talking with and making a fuss of him, I watched as he crawled into his tent at the back of the yard.

Melinda rested her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry about Heather, sweetheart.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” I told her. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Before the woman could insist that she was somehow at fault for Heather being the way she was, I added, “On another note, you should know that the dog’s trying to dig his way under the fence again.”

Wyatt cursed and stood. “Ranger, we’ve talked about this.”

It really was astonishing how many women tried wrangling their way into Dane’s office to either see or lie in wait for him. They’d probably wait naked—I’d never know for sure, because I never allowed them to go inside. No one entered his office unless he was there and okayed it. But the attractive, scantily dressed redhead in front of me just was not getting that.

Candace sighed. “I only need a minute of his time.”

What people didn’t seem to realize was that pretty much every minute of Dane’s day was accounted for. He often went from meeting to meeting—some were internal, some were external, some were short, others went on for hours. Such was the life of many CEOs.

I always kept an hour of his day free in case there were any last-minute fires to put out or he needed a little “me” time to reflect. Today, there had been no fires, and he’d declared that he wanted to spend his free hour “undisturbed.”

“If you’d like to leave a message, I will pass it on to Mr. Davenport,” I said.

She gestured at his office. “Oh, come on, he’s right there.”

“He made it clear to me that he wasn’t to be disturbed.”

Her mouth curved into a confident, sultry smile. “Trust me, he’ll want to see me.”

Ugh. “Then I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to hear that you left him a message, and he’ll get straight back to you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You know, Hope warned me that you might stop me from seeing him. She said she had a feeling that you want him all to yourself. Like you’d have a chance with him.” Candace rested both hands on my desk. “I’ve tried to be nice about this, but I’m just about done with you. Go and tell him I’m here, and do it now, or I’ll have you fired.”

Oh, how original. “You’ll have me fired?”

“I’m one of his sister-in-law’s best friends. What do you think he’s going to say if I tell him that you were being such a rude little bitch to me?”

I leaned toward her and pitched my voice low. “I think the real question is … what are you going to say when people ask why security guards dragged you out of o-Verve? You think I won’t call them? I will. I do it, like, all the time. Seriously, this sort of shit happens so often they have this drill down to a science. You can become familiar with this drill, or you can leave a message for Mr. Davenport and go. I’ll let you choose.”

Twin flags of red stained her cheeks. “You are one snobby little whore.”

“‘Snobby’ is a little harsh.”

“I could ruin you in a hot second and—”

“I don’t know why you’re here,” a voice cut in, calm yet dark with menace. “I also don’t care. Get out of my building, or I’ll have security put you out.”

I briefly glanced over my shoulder at Dane. He was walking toward my desk, his eyes hard and flinty on Candace.

“Dane,” she breathed, losing every ounce of bluster. She forced a smile. “I just came by to say hi—”

“You heard what I said.” His tone was silky smooth but carried a chill.

Candace’s face fell. “Why are you upset with me? I only wanted to see you. She wouldn’t let me! Did you know she stops people from seeing you?”

Unreal. “It’s sort of my job at times.”

Dane took another step forward. “You don’t get to come here and speak to my PA like shit.”

“I didn’t—”

“You called her a whore,” he whispered, but there was enough venom in his tone to make the redhead flinch. “An insult to Vienna is something I won’t tolerate.”

Candace gave him a beseeching look. “Dane.”

“A few calls, Candace. It would take only a few calls from me to have your carefully constructed world fall apart. Your drug habit would be unearthed. The affair you’re having with your father’s business partner would be outed. A very specific kink you like to hide would be made public.”

Her eyes bulged. “No. No, you can’t.”

“I can. I will. Unless you apologize to Vienna and get the fuck out of my building.”

Candace turned to me and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I am.”

No, she wasn’t. She was simply sorry that he’d overheard her.

With all the dignity that she could muster, Candace hurried over to the elevator.

Dane glanced down at me and said, “My office.”

I followed him inside the large space and closed the door. “Does she really have a drug habit?”

“Yes.” Dane settled in his leather chair. “She’s been doing cocaine since she was fourteen.”

“How do you know that? How do you know all that stuff about her?”

“We have a few mutual acquaintances who like to talk.”

“She was super confident that you’d want to see her.” Which made me wonder if they’d slept together.

“No, I haven’t had sex with her.”

I almost gaped. “I never said you did.”

“But you were wondering.”

See, he was a goddamn warlock.

“Despite Hope’s strange belief that her friend and I have slept together, we haven’t. Candace has made plenty of offers, but I don’t go for ‘clingy and desperate.’”

“I’m not so sure she’s received that message yet.”

“After what just happened, she won’t be back.” His gaze swept over my face. “Are you all right?”

“Fine. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Hope’s not going to be happy when she hears the story from Candace. That was a test.”

I blinked. “A test?”

“Hope urged her friend to come here. Her theory was probably that if I turned Candace away, there was a high chance that I was dating you.”

I nodded. “Ah.”

“Not only did I turn her away—something I would have done anyway, because I don’t like her—I threatened to ruin her purely for insulting you. Hope will see that act of protectiveness as a definite sign that you and I are seeing each other.”

I folded my arms and shrugged one shoulder. “You overdid it.”

His brows snapped together. “I, what?”

“You threatened to expose all her dirty laundry to the world.”

“And I wasn’t kidding.”

“She called me an ugly name, that’s all.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’d never tolerate a verbal attack on someone who belonged to me.”

I tilted my head. “You’d truly be prepared to ruin someone’s reputation just for offending your girlfriend?”

He leaned back in his chair. “What do you think?”

I looked at him for a long moment. “I think you’re a ruthless, unforgiving bastard who’d catapult anyone that crossed you into a boundless mountain of shit.”

He nodded. “Then there you go.”

Our second date was much like our first—all subtle touches and quiet conversation. Again, people looked and whispered. Again, I did my best to ignore it. Again, Dane paid me such intense attention that, honestly, it was like his world revolved around me.

One couple actually approached us, said hello to Dane, and asked him to introduce me. When he referred to me as his PA, they smiled … as if it was code for something else.

On the upside, the food was freaking divine.

Either someone from our building had been at the restaurant that night or they knew someone who had, because word quickly got around o-Verve that Dane and I went on a date—something I learned from Hanna, when she came to my desk, asking why I was seen having a meal with Dane.

“Are you guys dating? Please tell me you guys are dating,” she’d said, her hands clasped, looking far too excited.

I’d vaguely replied, “Dane doesn’t date.”

“According to my source, you were not dressed for a meeting. You were wearing a fuck-me dress, you had your hair down, and there was a lot of careful touching going on.”

I’d sighed and said, “It wasn’t a fuck-me dress.”

“Is he a good kisser?”

“How would I know?”

Hanna had pouted. “Fine. Be that way. But I’m watching you two from here on out.”

When I later told Dane about it, he’d seemed pleased that word of our “secret relationship” was beginning to spread around the teams. I wasn’t so pleased, because eventually I’d have to deal with sneers and people accusing me of sleeping with my boss to get a raise or something. But I’d known in advance that it would happen, I’d metaphorically signed up for it, and I’d deal with it when the time came.

As the days went on, though, the workforce seemed mostly excited at the idea that “Dane’s fallen for one of our own” instead of a socialite, heiress, or model. Oh, there was some general pettiness from a few women, but I’d expected that. I’d overlook it so long as they didn’t start mouthing off. Hopefully people’s fear of Dane would keep them on their best behavior.

When Saturday came around, he and I went on a third date. It was basically just a repeat of the previous two—posh restaurant, small but possessive touches, lots of eyes on us.

At work Monday morning, it was business as usual. I’d originally worried that the fake-dating lark would in some way bleed over onto our workplace dynamics, but it seemed that we both managed to compartmentalize everything just fine.

I was halfway through the process of sending some outbound emails when the office phone rang. Honestly, it rang so many times throughout the day, there’d been occasions when I’d woken at night, convinced I could hear it.

I lifted the receiver and said, “Good morning, you’ve rea—”

“Dane Davenport?” a familiar voice clipped. “That’s the guy you’re seeing? Dane Davenport?”

I balled up my hand. “I’m working, Owen.”

“For a guy you’re also dating, right?”

“What gave you that idea?” I asked airily.

“My boss saw you both having dinner on Saturday night. He said you looked real cozy.”

“Dane and I often attend business dinners together.”

“Don’t try to blow me off, Vee. Jesus, I can’t believe you’re with Davenport. It doesn’t make sense. You’d never be so unprofessional as to sleep with your boss.”

No, I wouldn’t. I’d simply have fun imagining it. Lots and lots of fun.

“He doesn’t do relationships, Vee. Maybe he’ll offer you a fling, but that’s it. You’re worth more. If he doesn’t see that, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“And you do?”

He sighed. “No. I let you down. But don’t you think we’ve both paid for my mistake long enough?”

I frowned. “You seem to have this insane idea that I’ve been holding a candle for you all these years.”

“You loved me, Vee. You loved me enough to wear my ring. I think a part of you still does, even though you might not want to.”

“You’re wrong. Even if I wasn’t happy with someone else, I wouldn’t go back to you. Not ever. Don’t call me again.” I placed down the receiver.

“Problem?” a voice asked from behind.

My pulse spiked, but I managed not to jump. Slowly turning to face Dane, I folded my arms. “Just Owen.”

Dane twisted his mouth and then tipped his chin toward his office. Only once I’d followed him inside and closed the door did he speak again. “What did he want?”

“He called to ask if you’re the guy I told him I was seeing,” I replied. “His boss saw us together on Saturday, apparently.”

“And?”

“I didn’t confirm or deny we’re dating, but Owen seems sure we are. He doesn’t believe you’re serious about me, though. He thinks you’d only want a fling. He also can’t make sense of me doing something as unprofessional as sleeping with my boss.”

“Hmm.” Dane leaned back against his desk. “We’re going on another date this weekend.”

“Another restaurant?” I asked.

“No. This time, you’re going as my plus-one to a charity ball. Not as my PA, as my official date.”

I lifted my brows. “So, we’re ‘coming out,’ so to speak?”

“Yes. People at the event will ask questions, especially my brothers. We’ll tell them that we’ve been a couple for a few months. I don’t want them thinking we’re idly dating. I want them to believe this is serious. So make sure you put on your best acting hat on Saturday at the gala—we’ll have a hell of a show to put on.”