Chapter 17
Seventeen
@lucybradee: Roller skates, fanny packs, and glow sticks, oh my! #companymorale
I huff an amused laugh at the photo Lucy recently uploaded on Iconic. Apparently, there’s a way to make a private folder that no one can see without a password—which she left on my desk along with a note that said:
In case you get bored and want to see what you’re missing out on.
Missing out, indeed.
In the photo, Lucy and Anna are wearing neon-colored spandex bodysuits with different-colored leggings and leg warmers. Both women have their hair pulled up in ponytails with sweatbands and an obscene amount of glowing jewelry.
Lifting my second tumbler of whiskey of the evening to my lips, I swipe my thumb and scroll through the photos that have been uploaded so far.
It wasn’t even a thought to go tonight, even if the idea of being able to sneak Lucy away into a dark corner was tempting.
But image after image has me rethinking my decision.
It’s bad form to attend these types of events. Morale parties are for employees, not their bosses. However, the fact that nearly everyone there right now is holding a drink makes my protective instincts kick in.
What if she drinks too much?
What if someone tries to take advantage of her?
I can hear her response to my agonizing internal questions. Okay, Daddy.
My palm twitches.
Another swipe shows a photo of some guy with his arms wrapped around both Lucy and Anna. Both women are leaning in to kiss his cheek, and Lucy’s bright pink lipstick has left a mark on his skin.
“Put the phone down, Lawson. You’re going to drive yourself crazy,” I mutter to myself.
Darkening the screen, I toss my cell on a pile of file folders and pull up my email. I need a distraction, and even though it’s the start of the weekend, working seems like the best choice.
Not even a few minutes go by before my phone lights up, and an image of Jules appears on my screen. Sighing, I slide the answer tab over. “Yes?”
“Well, that’s no way to greet your best friend, now is it?” she sarcastically chides, clearly on speakerphone.
“I’m his best friend,” Cameron argues. Apparently, this is a three-way call .
“Yes, well, the question would remain the same then, wouldn’t it?” she sardonically replies.
“Can I help you two? I’m trying to get some work done.” In reality, I’ve been blankly staring at my computer screen, not registering anything.
“How many drinks in are you, Law? And how many more will it take to convince you to get your ass to the rink to get your girl?” Jules asks.
As I put them on speaker and set my phone down, I can hear the clinking of glasses on their end, and for a moment, I miss New York badly .
It’s not just my friends, but also the fact that I could be doing the same thing in the city right now and not feel so alone.
All I’d have to do is open my window, and the bustling of the people below, the sound of taxis honking their horns, and the smell of street food would surround me even if I weren’t down in the middle of it all.
Here, it’s just River and me, and my broody teenager is off somewhere with Rose and Nova tonight, leaving me completely and utterly alone to watch Lucy’s night play out on a social media app.
It’s like my life reversed right back to being that sad and pathetic man I was before I moved to New York.
“Stop pushing him. Lawson, why don’t you come back for the weekend? We can go to the club and get your mind off your woman problems.”
“Ooh, we haven’t all been to the club together in a long time!” Jules says excitedly.
My screen lights up with another notification from Iconic. “I have a lot of work to get done. Plus, I can’t just take off for the weekend, Cam. I’ve got River.”
“Well, sitting at home in your office with a bottle of whiskey while you watch your pretty little assistant get drunk isn’t going to do you any favors,” he scolds good-naturedly.
“How the hell do you know I’m watching her get drunk?” I pick up my phone to look at the new photo.
“Mike might have shared the password with me,” Jules singsongs.
“She’s a pretty little thing. Kinda makes me wish I had taken the job in Chicago,” Cameron jokes.
“Shut the fuck up.”
They both burst into laughter while I pull up the app. Irritation prickles down my spine as a carousel of images pops up, featuring the same man holding Lucy bridal style as they gaze at each other with giant smiles.
“Ooooh, are you gonna let this guy paw at her all night, Law?” Jules asks. “You know, I’ll bet the little cherry pop is trying to get a rise out of you. That’s what I would do in her situation. Smart girl.”
After the way we’ve been around each other, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least. It’s like Lucy is doing everything she can to make me snap. Especially since I called her a good girl.
Irritation bursts into feral possessiveness as another photo loads, and I find myself staring at the guy nuzzling her neck while Lucy grins at the camera like she’s looking straight into my soul.
Come and get me, Lawson. I dare you.
I’m losing the battle with myself because all I want is to claim the little brat. Damn the company policy. Damn our age difference. And damn the fact that she used to date my son.
“You know, you’re getting far too much entertainment out of this,” I tell Jules as I stand to collect my keys and wallet.
“I heard the keys. He’s going to get her. Jesus, man, it’s about time,” Cameron comments.
“Goodbye, you two.” I don’t wait to hear what else they have to say and hang up, already halfway down the hall.
It’s only because she’s going to get herself into trouble. I’m just looking out for her.
But as I get behind the wheel, even though I’ve had a few drinks, I know it’s a hell of a lot more than that.
My tempting little rainbow just won this round.
Everyone at Sk8 Land is decked out in neon colors and glow stick necklaces and bracelets, so I stand out in my dark work slacks and white button-down. A few people peer at me as I walk by, but no one greets me or acknowledges that the boss has arrived.
Roving spotlights dance over the giant skating rink, and dim recessed lights barely illuminate the surrounding area where people gather around tables of food. A particularly enthusiastic group in one corner is doing karaoke despite the loudspeakers playing classic 80s hits.
I keep to the shadows, searching for Lucy’s red hair and sky-blue bodysuit. Finally, I find her talking to the guy from the photos with a red Solo cup in hand. They are secluded from everyone else, half in the shadows of a row of lockers.
Lucy tips her head back and lets out a loud peal of laughter at something he says. Red takes over my vision, and it’s not from the flashing spotlights. I pull out my phone and dim the screen as low as it will go before sending her a message.
Lawson
Excuse yourself to the bathroom. Now.
Her phone lights up in her black, paint-splattered fanny pack, and without breaking eye contact with the guy, she pulls the device out before her eyes finally fall to the screen. A smirk pulls at the corner of her lips, and I realize two things simultaneously.
One: She was goading me to come out, and I fell for her little plan. And two: Lucy will definitely receive the spanking she desperately needs tonight.
Without waiting to see if she obeys me, I turn and walk to the bathrooms by the entrance. I purposefully parked nearby in the parking garage so that I could easily grab her and haul her ass to my vehicle without anyone seeing.
If Lucy wants to act like a little brat, then a punishment from Daddy is exactly what she will get.
The whiskey swims in my veins, enough to create that floating feeling but not enough to hinder my ability to drive or give Lucy an orgasm after she’s slept off all the alcohol in her system.
I know it’s a bad choice, and I know there will be consequences I’ll have to deal with in the morning.
But it’s a problem I can deal with tomorrow.
Tonight, the little brat is mine .
Lucy
Triumph rushes through my veins as I see Lawson's message. Did I know what I was doing when I kept uploading pictures of my cute outfit? And with Joey—who wants to jump Lawson’s bones as much as I do? Of course, I did.
Lawson might tell himself that something between us isn’t possible because of whatever x, y, or z problem he wants to come up with on any given day, but the fact that he’s here only proves that we still have an undeniable pull to each other.
He wants to be my protector, and I want to snap his resolve like a rubber band. Judging by the angry look on his face, the rubber band is fraying.
“Well, hi, Mr. Morgan! It's so good of you to join us! I’m sure everyone will be thrilled to see you.” Liquid courage has me doing a little spin for him. “Whatcha think? Did I manage to pull off the 80s vibe?”
“What did I tell you about drinking so much in public places?” he growls as he grabs my arm and pulls me to the exit. “Let’s go.”
“Hey! What the heck, Lawson? Where are we going?” My efforts to get him to slow down are futile as he drags me toward his car. “I’m not ready to leave yet. Stop!” I have to use all my weight to pull my arm from his grip.
When he spins around, I can smell the whiskey on his breath as he crowds me against the wall of the parking garage. “Aren’t you, Lucy? This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to show up?”
Every part of me ignites at his strength. The way he grabs my wrists—gently but firmly—reminds me that he’s bigger. Stronger. Dominant . And the need that flows through me—the need to make him lose control—is so powerful that I feel like I’m turning to liquid beneath his stony gray scowl.
“Because you can’t resist a damsel in distress, can you?” I taunt.
“Only when it’s you, rainbow.” His smirk is downright treacherous.