It was a dream living space, but it was clear the two-bedroom, two bath condo was just that—a living space. Nikki was right. My partner seriously needed to get laid, but I was pretty sure if I suggested anything like that to him on the heels of my latest fuckup, I’d be the one getting punched in the face.
Digging around in the freezer, I fished out a bottle of Belvedere and poured two fingers into a crystal tumbler. There wasn’t much food in the condo, so I called for take out. Not only was I tired, I was hangry—hungry and angry.
I felt conned. I felt trapped. My food-deprived brain plotted out all sorts of scenarios. What if Star was a plant from some angry client I’d sent away? Some client who knew my weakness for hot blondes and blow jobs.
Or possibly she was a setup by Nikki intended for Derek, and I’d unwittingly intercepted her. No way. Nikki was smarter than that, whatever my senior partner said. He’d never fall for it. That thought made me fucking pissed at myself all over again. It would be the first thing he said.
Once I’d eaten a boatload of sushi, I was thinking a little clearer. Yes, I’d screwed up. It was a slow day, and I’d been thinking with my dick instead of my brain. And it was biting me in the ass. Now I needed to figure out a way to smooth this over that didn’t involve us getting sued for sexual harassment or me having to take out a restraining order against some jealous ex-husband. If he even was her ex. My instincts told me they were still together. Where were my instincts around one o’clock this afternoon?
Standing, I went back to the windows and looked out at the darkness, broken by streetlights, cars, and smaller businesses. How had I ended up here? I’d left Chicago determined to change how I did things, but my anger at Stacy had left me out of control. It was a dangerous place to be; out of control in my line of work was a career killer. I was the watcher, the thinker. The closer. And here I was committing frat-boy fuckups with would-be porn stars. Something had to give.
My phone vibrated in my hand, and I was so distracted, I looked at it. Kenny. Don’t beat yourself up, Bingley. I’ve seen you. You’ve got that dangerously sweet charm.
Allowing myself a momentary reprieve from the self-flagellation, I thought of Kenny and me. Being with her was really nice. For one night I’d felt calm.
If only she wasn’t such a kid. I shook my head. Her circumstance had morphed all my feelings into nothing more than big-brother protectiveness.
I was actually just awarding myself King Dumbass. I texted back.
You are a dumbass. But you’re not the king. And Darcy is more understanding than he first appears.
Her intuition made me laugh. Thanks.
Warmth filled my chest, even if it was the warmth I usually reserved for relatives like my little sister. Kenny was special. And all I could do now was wait.
Chapter 7 – Back in the Desert
Watching the anger rise in Derek’s face reminded me of the day I decided he could probably be one scary-assed motherfucker if he wanted to be. I was absolutely correct in that assessment. Not only did his blue eyes turn dark navy, but his brow lowered in a way that had my muscles tensing, preparing to take the hit. It was going to hurt like hell, too. I’d seen him work out.
“You did what?” His voice was quiet, way more controlled than I’d expected.
My stomach was tight. “I made a mistake.”
“A mistake?” He let out his breath and turned, looking through the windows of his apartment at the bright Sunday afternoon. “A mistake is Nikki sending my car to LaGuardia instead of JFK. This is more than a mistake.”
The comparison made me wince. I’d spent the weekend at his place, worked out on his Bowflex, lounged by the rooftop pool, watched his 110-inch flatscreen, tried to get my head straight. The more I’d thought about what happened, the more it didn’t make sense that Star would go from zero to on my dick unless she had an agenda. Sure, I’d grown used to panties flying at my command, but this felt contrived.
“What do you think about it possibly being a setup?” It sounded even more ridiculous when I said it out loud, and even if it was a setup, it didn’t change the fact that I’d slept with a subordinate. On her first day in the office.
As if remembering something, Derek turned and went to the hall, grabbing his briefcase. “With what possible motive?” He was distracted as he walked past me. I couldn’t imagine what he was looking for—unless he had standard resignation papers on hand.
“That’s the part I can’t figure out.” I exhaled, leaning against his leather couch. “But I swear, I was only planning to have lunch with her then go home. I’d gotten your email.”
“Instead, you decided to jeopardize the reputation of our agency—my reputation—to satisfy your dick.” Again I winced as he dropped the folder on the table. “You’re going to Scottsdale. Leaving Tuesday morning. Take Monday off.”
I nodded, expecting as much.
“Perfect timing,” he growled. “I just picked up a huge multi-agency phishing scam targeting seniors. I need you on this. Instead, I’ve got to figure out if we’re going to be sued for sexual harassment. Or if some asshole’s going to show up at the office waving a gun.”
My frown deepened. I still couldn’t believe I’d been so careless. “I guess it’s too late to apologize.”
“Skip it,” he said, picking up his phone. “I’ll call Susan and see if the girl’s reported anything.”
“Who’s Susan?”
“My aunt.” He walked back to the dining area. “She runs the temp agency.”
That one sentence made my setup theory DOA. Derek’s aunt would not be party to a setup. I watched as he listened and then put his phone down. “She’s not answering. I’ll follow up with her tomorrow. You get packing.”