Chapter 2
ASHER
The moment John Kim said he had a business opportunity, I knew it was trouble. And normally, those words would have me reeling. I would come up with an excuse, pretend someone needed me, and fake an urgent call. Anything to escape a business opportunity with a former classmate.
But standing next to John Kim was her. A curtain of slick hair, dark as the night, reaching down her back.
Flared hips, small breasts, an angelic face.
Wide, bright eyes, almond-shaped but raven-wing colored.
The most beautiful, brightest woman I have ever seen.
The second our eyes connected, an electrified cord snapped between us, buzzing with energy.
I felt it straight to my core, invigorating me, boiling my blood. Making my pants grow tighter.
I don’t care how ridiculous it sounds, but from the second I put my eyes on her, I wanted her. No matter who she was, all I knew was that I couldn’t leave without knowing her. Without getting her number, finding a way to see her again.
So I approached John Kim and let him talk to me about his business opportunity.
And I tried, fuck, how hard I tried to get her to talk, but John Kim is a seller and an entertainer.
He’s always been the class clown, the one who bloomed with attention, and he didn’t let me chat with the mysterious girl next to him until it was too late.
Until we were about to leave, and he offhandedly mentions the woman is his daughter.
Fuck. I think I’m obsessed with his daughter.
She hasn’t left my mind these days, even through my life-threatening work, even if we haven’t exchanged a word.
Yesterday, John finally set up a date for us to meet—at least his “business opportunity” is nothing more than financial consulting and tax filing.
As I drive to the place, I thank God I’m not entering a multilevel marketing business just to see a girl again.
This will go nowhere, I’m sure, but I need to see her again.
I climb the front steps into the small building—it’s a three-story, squared thing, all ugly windows and dark brown walls. There’s no other way I’d picture a financial company, though. Boring to the bones.
My life as a firefighter is the exact opposite. Thrilling, full of dangers, and yet deeply fulfilling. I would do nothing else.
Two meeting rooms, the secretary’s desk, and John’s office take the first floor of the building.
Though the exterior is old, it’s in a pleasant neighborhood, and the inside is richly decorated.
John greets me with that fake smile, slapping my shoulder as if we were old friends.
I guess it’s this charisma that made him so popular back at school, and that helps him in business now.
I’m lucky I don’t need to fake niceties in the firefighting business.
“Let’s go into my office,” he says after a couple of minutes of small talk, and I jerk back to reality. If we go straight into his office, I won’t see his daughter. Is she even here?
“Mm, why don’t you show me around the building? Is everything yours?”
John’s eyes glitter with delight. “It is! Not a pretty building, but very central, with parking space. Once you’re inside, you even forget how ugly it is.”
This time, he makes me laugh. John takes me to the second floor, where his employees share three distinct rooms. The windows are small, and I can’t help but notice how easily a fire could spread. I tell this to John.
He arches an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, we’re good. We’re fire safe and compliant with every rule. Besides, it’s a small building.”
I see no sprinklers, but John shows me the fire safety compliance on a wall, and I’m forced to drop the subject. “Sorry, man. It’s the firefighter in me.”
“Sure. Come on, let me show you upstairs.”
I have almost lost my hopes when we reach the third floor, and we pass rooms full of archives. My heart drops to my stomach. Shit, did I come all this way for nothing? Did I do this just so I wouldn’t see her again?
At the end of the corridor, though, there’s an open space, and John guides me there.
It’s more a den than a room, a tiny space near a tiny window with a desk shoved between two walls.
There, I see the movement of slick black hair and the drumming of small, nimble fingers, and my heart stops.
My steps halt, my tongue going dry and sticky.
Shit. It’s her. I’m a fifty-year-old man obsessed with a much younger woman, and she makes me react like a freaking teenager.
Heart beating out of rhythm, I let John guide me there, my ears buzzing.
I can’t hear a word he says. It doesn’t matter.
Nothing matters but the moment I put my eyes on her.
She drums on the wooden desk with one hand, the other scrolling on the mouse.
I step closer, my eyes feasting on her beauty, the watery light filtering through the window glinting on her hair. She raises her gaze and looks at me.
A fire starts in the depths of my being. Just by looking at her. My lungs lock; my skin burns. And I don’t want to leave. If I could, I would spend forever in this small second when our gazes lock.
Even if she’s not the woman for me. She’s too young, the daughter of an old classmate.
How wrong is that? She’s beautiful, utterly beautiful, and I’m...
not. I’m too big, bigger than any of the kids that went with me to high school.
They made fun of my size, of how no uniforms fit me right, of how much taller I’ve always been.
Shit, I’m bigger than the average firefighter, and we’re a bunch of tough people.
No, this is nothing more than a dream. A delusion. One I can’t help but feed into.
“My daughter, Laura, you remember,” John says. “This is Asher Grant, Laura. We’re going to take care of his finances now. He’s going to be your client with the tax filing.”
She straightens her spine. Does she hate it? Does she hate the idea of working with me? Laura tucks her hair behind her ears, then shoots to her feet.
“How do you do?” she asks in a small voice. God, she doesn’t like what she sees, I’m sure of it. Fuck, I can barely fit into this tiny space. I feel like a monster, devouring the light in the den, about to eat her up.
“Give him one of the cards I made you,” John says, and there’s an underlying growl to his voice.
Threatening. I pull my shoulders back. Is he threatening her?
A tingle of hatred shoots up my spine. I can’t bear the thought of anyone being rude to her, even if it’s her father, even if I mean nothing to her.
Laura jerks at the rudeness in her father’s voice and then reaches out for a drawer to her left.
She opens it and maybe because I’m so much taller than average, I see the insides of it as she goes through them.
A magazine on music, a small, decrepit book on musical theory, headphones.
She’s a music lover. The shred of knowledge makes my heart beat even faster.
Now there’s something I can talk to her about.
Something that could get me closer to her...
She closes the drawer with a thud. I shake myself back to reality. No. Fuck no, Asher. She’s not for you. She wants nothing to do with you. Let this go.
Laura hands me the card. I read her name on it, her phone number, and brush my fingertips on the paper for a second too long.
They don’t seem to notice, though, and John sends her back to work as he walks me down to his office.
As soon as the door closes behind me, I know I won’t see her again today.
I also know I shouldn’t try to see her ever again. Whatever this obsession is, it has to end. It shouldn’t have even begun.