Squinting at a man who barely acknowledged her glare, Natasha asked, “So, I could stay at DGI if I want?”
“Yes . . . if you want,” he said, bright with enthusiasm. “As a clerk. But between you and me, we’ve seen better clerks.”
No argument there.
Taking a moment of silence to think it through, she wondered more about Rip Van Winkle and his mysterious sidekick. “So, you two are close?”
“Not as close as the two of you were tonight.” Paco glanced at her. “So I assume.” Rolling the car to a stop, he said, “This is you. I’ll get your door.”
As he helped her out, she again cursed him for being a smoking-hot gentleman wrapped in a rainbow.
“You’re on the fifth floor,” he said, as if she didn’t know. “When you get up there, wave down so I know you got home safe.” His attention fixed to his cell, he essentially dismissed her.
A few steps toward her building, Natasha started the slow temptation of overthinking things. “Why did he do this?”
Does he like me?
Keeping his eyes glued to a text his thumbs feverishly tapped out, Paco answered. “It doesn’t matter. You’re never going to see him again. Besides, he’s Alex Drake. Why the hell does he do anything?” With a stern glance at her, he left her with a warning. “Figuring him out is a waste of time. I stopped trying to get inside the head of that bastard a long time ago.”
He resumed his texting. Begrudgingly, she went inside.
Waving down to Paco, Natasha was disappointed that he didn’t wave back before getting in his big yellow beast and driving away. Seeing him again probably wasn’t happening either.
Emptiness making her lethargic, she shuffled toward her favorite puffy pink chaise and plopped down. Her Bitch, You Wish You Were Me notepad had a fuchsia pen holding it open to her list.
Grasping the pen between her fingers, she finished off the x in Alex’s name by scrolling two half circles over the top, transforming the letter into a two-tailed heart.
A second later, she took her time thinking through the evening. Sure, he was handsome and charming in a God’s gift to women, assholish sort of way. Her nose scrunched as she marked through his name, and after another thought, Grant Evans as well.
That’s better.
Meditating through a long inhale, Natasha circled number two on her list. “Davis R. Black,” she said under her breath. Reading the word Chicago next to Black Technologies made her frown.
It wasn’t her favorite city. And the guy had to be the biggest geek alive, making his money in some sort of lame military technology. Positive at least one room in his house had to be filled with Star Trek crap and dorky magician stuff, she blew out a longwinded sigh.
It was late. And she had a long day ahead of her.
She chucked the DGI folder in the trash before making her way to a bed crowded with pink faux fur pillows and a sheer white canopy net. “Mrs. Natasha Black. Beats the hell out of Mrs. Pompous Womanizing Asshole.”
15
Charity
Charity had been in only one executive office before—Paco’s—and it was magnificent. By comparison, Alex’s was twice the size but sparse, with clean lines and a contemporary look that said little about his personality or personal life.
Paco gave her the warm feeling of family, but she knew he carried that air with him wherever he went. Alex Drake was another story, a mystery wrapped in a ten-thousand-dollar suit and a well-crafted smile that probably lingered long after the sentiment behind it had gone. A self-appointed guardian of the woman he barely noticed.
It was the strangest feeling—wanting to make them proud. Make him proud.
In a cream-colored vintage chiffon dress that cost next to nothing, Charity felt a definite step up from her usual embarrassingly casual look. This one nailed old Hollywood to a tee. The couture lines fit her like a glove, clinging to all her curves without making her look cheap.
On her way to his office, she floated through the building like she belonged there, hoping her walk was coming off as elegant and classy. But no matter what she wore or how she cleaned up, the CEO scarcely noticed the difference, never changing his demeanor.
One way or another, I’m getting your attention. At least for half a second.
“This view is mesmerizing,” she said, staring off into the distant lights twinkling in Central Park.
Busy clicking away at a keyboard at his desk, Alex mindlessly acknowledged her statement with, “Mm-hmm.”
While they waited on Paco’s arrival, Charity found that aimlessly gazing off at the city couldn’t hold her interest. She’d much rather watch Alex.
He was so engrossed in his work, staring at him didn’t seem nearly as intrusive as it might have. Watching him, she wondered if he ever looked at a woman with as much passion and fondness as he did for his computer screen. Like a ten-year-old with a video game, it probably took a lot to tear him away.
Curious, Charity moved closer, wanting to check out whatever captured his attention. Holding back a giggle, she learned he really was playing a video game. Of some sort.
“What is that?”
“Huh? Oh, this? It’s a cryptographic simulator with a built-in algorithm to increase difficulty and shift statistical probability with each successive achievement level.” When she hit him with a blank stare, he translated. “It helps me learn codebreaking by increasing the difficulty each time I get it right.”
“Oh. Cool.” In a geeky spy sort of way.
Without another glance, he shut down the mishmash of patterns displayed across his screen. Turning his attention to his cell resting on the massive desk, he said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. It looks like Paco should be up here in a minute.”
In a single, swift move, Charity hiked her skirt high and straddled the unsuspecting billionaire.
Protectively folding his arms over his chest as a barrier, Alex arched a stern brow. “Didn’t we already have a talk about this?”
Gleeful, Charity nestled herself into his crotch. “We did. But I just want to fuck with Paco a little.”
At the telltale sound of two abrupt knocks, Alex conformed to Paco’s new terms for entering the office at night, shouting, “Come in.”
On cue, she began riding him like a mechanical bull set to high, while he casually wove his fingers behind his head.
Grinning from ear to ear, Alex said nonchalantly, “Hey, Paco.”
In an exaggerated defensive move, apparently terrified the vision would instantly turn him to stone, Paco slammed his eyes shut and covered them with his hand. “Dammit! Why the hell would you tell me to come in?”
Alex shrugged. “It wasn’t my idea.”
Hesitantly, Paco spread his fingers just wide enough to see Charity dislodge herself from Alex’s lap.
Straightening her elegant dress, she giggled. “I couldn’t resist. And Alex was a good sport, though it felt a little like I was assaulting an unsuspecting priest. You know, Paco, for as tanned as you are, you blush easily.”
He heaved out a sigh. “Hey, I’m just glad to see you weren’t really scraping the bottom of the barrel.”
Alex brushed off the insult. “Nope. She’s not that desperate.”