Chapter 4
Ashley Miles did a little two-step, jiggling along to the music in her CD player as she pushed the vacuum cleaner down the twelfth floor hallway in the enormous, empty building. Thirty minutes more and she could head home for some serious study time.
She might be one of the oldest students, but she got better grades than the teenagers, so what did she care?
She’d just turned off the vacuum when her cell phone vibrated, making her jump. “Jesus!” Falling against the wall, then laughing at herself, she pulled her headphones off her ears and retrieved the phone from her jeans pocket. “Hey-lo.”
“It’s May.”
Immediately, alarm bells went off in her head. May never, ever called her at work. Heck, May was never even awake at this time of the night. Unlike Ashley, who hooted with the nocturnal owls, May liked to soar with the early eagles.
Pushing away from the wall, Ashley demanded, “What’s wrong?”
Voice too light and animated, May said, “I thought maybe you’d come over for a visit.”
“A visit?” Ashley glanced at her watch. Whoa. “You want me to visit tonight?”
“Yes.”
She could practically see May pacing, her hand gripping the phone. They were closer than sisters, and very best friends. “Sure, May, I could do that. Wanna tell me why?”
“We haven’t had a chance to talk lately.”
“And you want to talk now?”
“That’s right. You had that new outfit to show me, remember? The flashy one?”
Ashley snorted. All her outfits were flashy. She liked bright clothes and lots of texture, unlike May who wouldn’t give up on her awful suits. “One question, okay, hon?”
“Uh…maybe.”
“Do you think you can have some coffee ready when I get there?”
The audible relief in May’s tone told her everything she had to know. May needed her. Why, Ashley didn’t know. It didn’t matter, anyway. Any opportunity to pay May back thrilled her. If it weren’t for May, she would have given up on herself long ago. “I can be there in half an hour.”
“The coffee will be waiting. Thanks.”
“Lookin’ forward to it, toots. Buh-bye.” Ashley disconnected the phone, stuffed it back in her pocket, and began winding up the cord to the vacuum. Judging by May’s behavior, she had no time to waste. A glance at her funky pink jeans with zippered hems and a button fly, yellow-and-pink-checked slip-on sneakers, and her stretch lace tee of yellow and pink roses assured her that her outfit would fit the bill.
The only time May ever cared what she wore was…Oh, wow. When she wanted to trade identities .
The elevator suddenly dinged, jolting Ashley out of her stupor. Being on the twelfth floor, she normally had to wait forever for the elevator to reach her. But not tonight.
She broke into a jog so she wouldn’t miss the ride, and reached the elevators just as a male form stepped out in her path.
Too late to put on her brakes. “Oh shit.”
Quinton Murphy, hunk in a suit, CPO of a lucrative consulting firm in the building, gave her one startled glance out of piercing green eyes, accepted the impact of her body against his, and managed to catch her in his arms.
“Oof!” His papers scattered everywhere, and together, caught by momentum, they tripped over the vacuum she towed along.
They went down in a heap, arms and legs tangled in the vacuum cord and hoses. Ashley pushed up, saw his still, perfectly sculpted face, smelled his delicious scent, and scampered away from him.
Speechless, heart punching into her ribs, she crouched beside him. He looked…flattened.
Their gazes locked, and then he smiled. “Good evening.”
Sitting back on her heels, Ashley groaned. “I am so sorry. Are you okay?”
He lifted his head to look at his body. “Other than a possible concussion, a few broken limbs…yeah, I’m fine.”
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
Another smile. “I’m joking.” He sat up, smoothed back his dark blond hair, and dusted off his hands. Rather than stand, he draped his wrists over his knees and gave her all his attention. “So, in a hurry, are you?”
Busted. She hadn’t finished the rest of the floor. Her shift should have lasted another half hour. But shoot, if he got mad and ratted her out, she could always find another seven dollar an hour night-shift job, right?
“Actually, yeah. I was going to cut out a little early.” She winced. “I didn’t expect anyone to know. I mean, usually the floor is empty this time of night, except for Flint.”
“Flint?”
“The guard. He hangs down by the front doors, but every hour or so”—she looked left and right, leaned forward, and said in a dramatic, conspiratorial, hush-hush whisper—“he reconnoiters the floors.”
“Ah. How conscientious of him.” Quinton leaned forward, too, aligning their mouths, looking directly into her eyes. The impact was awesome. “I bet he manages to linger on whatever floor you’re on, doesn’t he?”
Ashley almost wished she had more time. Not that she intended to get involved with Mr. Big Shot. Oh no. But flirting was fun. “It does seem that way.” She pushed to her feet, then held out a hand.
He accepted, although he stood with no real help from her. “Quinton Murphy.”
“Yeah, I know. Heard all about you.”
One tawny brow lifted. “From…?”
He kept her right hand, so Ashley gestured with her left. “The females who’re leaving work when I’m coming in. And the females who are coming in when I’m leaving.”
“They work for me?”
“I don’t think so. They’re more…casual. They probably work in other parts of the building.”
“They’re casual in dress, you mean? Like you?”
She grinned. “I like color—almost as much as I like gossip.”
“You don’t say?” He rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure I recall any female employees outside my own company.”
“That’s all right. They certainly know you. Or, that is, they know of you.”
Both brows lifted. “Really?”
“You’re the head honcho around here.”
That made him laugh. “The curiosity is killing me. Have they run me down or sung my praises?”
“Nothing but song, cross my heart. Unless you consider ‘workaholic’ a slight. But how could you when it’s apparently true?”
“You’re sure of that, are you?”
She pointed out his presence and the papers scattered all around them. “From all indications, you put in a lot of hours.”
“I see.” He released her to right the vacuum and pick up his papers. “So I’m here late, and you’re leaving early. Seems we both have odd hours.”
“Yeah, uh…” His voice was so smooth, Ashley couldn’t tell if he was threatening to report her, or making a pact. “I’m a good worker. Never sick, never late. Usually I don’t leave early, either. It’s just that an emergency has come up and I—”
“Your secret is safe with me. Or at least it will be if you’ll give me your name.”
Shew. He intended to be reasonable. “Ashley Miles.”
“So, Ashley, I say we cement this new friendship with dinner tomorrow before your shift. What do you say?”
The invite was so smooth, it took her a second to digest it. Technically, he broke no rules by asking. She didn’t work for him. Quinton Murphy leased space, but he had his own employees separate from the building management. She didn’t answer to him, and he didn’t sign her paychecks.
But that didn’t mean she’d take the bait.
Cocking out a hip and narrowing her eyes, Ashley surveyed him. Slick. Slick in an expensive suit. Despite devastating good looks, an awesome build, plenty of height, and sex appeal that radiated off him in hot waves, she had the sense to smile and say, “Sorry, no can do.”
“The day after?”
She shrugged. Her life left no room for men. Maybe in a year or two, but for now, she had only one answer. “I’m busy, busy. Crazy schedule and all that.” And before he could ask, she said, “Always.” And with drama, “It just never ends, ya know?”
“I see.” He lounged half in the elevator so that the doors couldn’t close—and she couldn’t leave. “You work third shift, so that must be, what? Eight to four?”
“Uh, yeah. That’s right.” Using the vacuum handle like a cane, she relaxed her stance. “I’m here long after you and everyone else has left.”
“Except for Flint.”
“And Rudy and Aiden.”
“Rudy and…?”
“Rudy is a guard, too. But he’s older and doesn’t prowl around as much. Aiden cleans the floors below mine.” Pretending deep thought, she mused, “And I guess there must be others, too. I mean, I only do four floors. And this is a big building.”
“Any other women work with you?”
“Nope, not that I’ve ever noticed. I don’t think women like night shift.”
“But you do?”
“It suits me.”
“And why is that?”
Not that it was any of his business, but she figured, what the heck? She crossed her arms and straightened. “I’m going to school. My hours have to fit around that.”
“I see.”
She looked every year of twenty-seven, but he didn’t so much as blink.
“What’s your major?”
“Nursing.” And then, seeing no help for it, she flattened a hand to his chest and gently nudged him away. “And really, I am in a hurry, so…if you’ll forgive me?”
“Right.” He stepped back, but as the doors started to close, he said, “I’ll be seeing you around, Ms. Miles.”
Ashley smiled—until the closed doors blocked the sight of him. Then she collapsed back against the brass rail and whistled. “Not if I see you first, Mr. Murphy.”
Once Ashley got over the shock of seeing Tim pulverized, she checked him out. Going by what she’d already learned in nursing school, he’d live. Not that she planned to celebrate. He made May’s life hell, and she for one disliked him for it.
“I promise, May, it’s not as bad as it looks. So much blood makes you think the injuries are more severe than they are. Most of it’s just bluster—you know, superficial stuff.” Of course, the way Tim carried on would be enough to make someone think he hovered at death’s door.
“What a relief.”
“So, we’re calling the police like good, sensible citizens, right?”
“Ah, no. I promised him I wouldn’t.” May fought her way into the pink jeans. “And until I talk to Jude, I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Only for Tim would May come up with such a cockeyed plan. For sure, she’d never do anything like it for herself. Remembering May’s warnings, Ashley protested in a mere whisper. “You know this is insane? And surreal. Something out of a suspense movie.”
But Tim’s injuries weren’t caused by a trip on the sidewalk.
“It’s the only way I can leave here without risking him.” Utilizing a lot of effort, May closed the last button on the jeans.
Ashley cast a quick look at the couch where Tim slept, thanks to pain pills. “I don’t know, May. What if there are people out there, and they recognize you?”
May caught Ashley’s arm and pulled her into the bathroom. After turning on the shower, they both felt safer talking. Tim could be loony about the whole “bugging” concern, but someone had really done a number on him, so better safe than sorry.
“We’ve done it in the past, Ash, and we’ve never been caught.”
“Yeah, well, you might not have noticed, but we’ve changed a little since the good old days. Most notably, you got gargantuan boobs and I didn’t.” It disgusted her to admit it, but Ashley said, “I’m still the great breastless wonder.”
“Ash,” May automatically protested, “you have a terrific figure.”
“If you can call an A cup terrific.”
May held up a sports bra. “I’d trade you if I could.”
“I hope that thing is lined with steel bands, cuz it’s going to take a lot of squeezing.”
“I’ll manage.” May bit her lip and fretted. “Our feet haven’t grown any, because the shoes fit. I just hope I don’t rip your jeans if I bend. Or move. Or breathe.” Her gaze met Ashley’s. “They’re really tight.”
“They’re stretch. Don’t worry about it. Actually, they look better on you than they do on me.” Her personal sense of style began and ended with color and comfort. Tight jeans were more flattering, but she preferred them loose to the point of being baggy. Lots of room to move. Not real attractive, but what did she need with male attention, anyway?
May stared at the stretch lace T-shirt, at her own chest, and she paced away with a hand to her forehead. Her hair hung loose to her shoulders, fluffed out and flirty to match Ashley’s curlier style.
Though Ashley’s hair was several inches longer, she doubted anyone would notice the difference. They shared an identical shade and texture.
As teenagers, they’d often played tricks on others, dressing alike, acting alike. May’s boyfriend in high school drove past the theater just as Ashley walked inside on a date. He accused May of cheating.
Once, Ashley’s father had thought she worked in the garden as per her punishment, when really she’d been in a school play. He never walked out to check on her, just looked through the window.
“Promise me you’ll be careful, May. I mean it.”
“Cross my heart.” May pulled the shirt on over her head, then pulled some more, up, down, trying to make it cover more of her, but without much success.
Inwardly, Ashley cringed; outwardly, she enthused. “Hey, it fits.”
“Sort of.” Staring down at her exposed cleavage, May moaned. “It’s so stretched, I can see through it.”
“Lucky for you it’s been a rainy couple of days.” Ashley picked up the V-neck, hooded poncho of florescent pink that she’d worn to ward off the weather. She dropped it over May’s head, closed the fat button at her neck, and grinned. It fell to May’s hips, concealing her. “There you go.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’ve involved you in this.”
“We’ll stay inside. I’ll keep an eye on Tim. Don’t worry about us.”
“I know you despise him.”
“But I love you.”
Tears welled in her eyes as May drew a shuddering breath. “Oh God, Ash, this is…”
“A big clusterfuck?” She nodded. “Sure is.”
Dismay turned into a laugh. “You are so bad.”
“It’s what I live for.” Ashley hugged her close. “Now, stop worrying. I’ll keep the phone close, and if anything happens, I’ll call the cops, damn the consequences.”
“You better.” May took Ashley’s hands. “I won’t trade your safety for Tim’s. This is his mess. I’ll do what I can, but I don’t want you in danger.”
“Got it.” Ashley patted the cell phone in the pocket of the housecoat she wore. Beneath the housecoat, she had on a nightshirt and flannel pants. She preferred anything to May’s hideous suits, and her friend didn’t have much else. May either dressed for work or wore stay-at-home clothes. “And don’t forget, you’re going to call me, too, after you get there.”
May slipped off her glasses, stowed them in the large, colorful tote bag Ashley had carried, and gave her hair one last fluff. “I’m ready.”
They left the bathroom, and Ashley walked with her to the door. Filled with misgivings, she gave May one last hug. In a mere whisper, she said, “Get those glasses back on as soon as you round the corner.”
“I will.”
“And drive slow until then.”
“I will.”
“And think positive. Attitude is everything.”
Since May was the one who’d taught Ashley that, she smiled. “See ya soon.”
Holding her breath, Ashley stood by the front door until May had left the building. She relocked the door, then rushed to the window to peek through the curtains until May had gotten into her banana yellow Civic and driven away. No other cars pulled away from the curb to follow. No lights came on. No one moved out of the shadows.
Tim was such an ass.
After a quick prayer, Ashley moved back to the couch and stared down at him. If he didn’t look so pathetic, she’d be tempted to kick his butt.
Poor schmuck.
One of these days, May would walk out on all of them. And not a soul would blame her—except her family.
Sweat trickled down his bare chest and abdomen, dampening the waistband of his loose cotton shorts. His lungs labored and his muscles burned. Exhaustion dragged at him, but it wasn’t enough. With May, nothing would be enough until he had her. After an hour…or a day…or hell, a week of nonstop, no-holds-barred sex, then he’d have his fill and could get his life back.
But not until then.
And that burned more than anything else could.
He’d hoped physical exertion would dilute the throbbing of regret, the continual need. Many times in the past he’d used exercise to clear his mind, to control his anger. Pumping weights, jogging on the treadmill, and hitting the heavy bag until his arms felt like lead pipes usually left him wiped out in thought and body.
This time, it only fueled his frustration. Propping his leather-gloved hands on his hips, Jude dropped his head forward and sucked in air.
He had to face facts: May didn’t want him. She’d been real clear about that. She’d babied her drunken sot of a brother while telling him to get lost. She’d kissed him—sort of—then acted like it was nothing.
To hell with her. Let her throw herself at her work. Let her pass on something he knew would be good. Let her…
Shit. She’d crowded into his brain again.
With determination, Jude locked his jaw and pounded his fists against the bag until his arms trembled with the strain, and finally, he had to stop, crouching down to catch his breath. Even fatigued, with his energy totally spent, May’s image lingered in his mind. Smiling. Sweet. What the hell is so special about her?
“You have a visitor.”
Jude didn’t need to glance at the clock to know it was late. Or really early. Whatever.
Keeping his back toward Denny while he peeled off the boxing gloves, he said, “I’m busy. Make my excuses.”
“You can make your own damn excuses.”
Jude slanted him a look, and Denny thrust out his bristly chin.
Not in the least defensive, but plenty insistent, Denny said, “I’m tired. I want to go back to bed.”
Denny wore only a rumpled T-shirt and unzipped trousers, no shoes. His thinning brown hair stood on end, showing thick ears and a faded tattoo on his skull. At forty-seven, he didn’t take well to instructions. Jude doubted that anyone had ever been able to boss him around.
Denny did as he pleased and expected others to do as he pleased, too. He believed in early to bed, early to rise, and since the sun would be up soon, no doubt the visitor had gotten him out of bed.
Down in the gym, Jude couldn’t hear the gate buzzer. Every room in his house had monitors to show what the security cameras picked up, and he could have turned on the one mounted on the far wall, but why bother? The only visitors he got were paparazzi, and they could rot for all he cared.
“Fine.” Jude tossed the gloves aside and picked up a towel to dry his chest. “Just ignore whoever it is and he’ll go away.”
Voice edging toward anger, Denny barked, “I’m a light sleeper, damn it. You know that. The buzzer’s been going off for ten minutes.”
Jude swallowed a curse. Why the hell had he hired an ex-military, cantankerous, martial arts son of a bitch for an assistant?
Oh yeah. He could trust Denny.
“You work for me, remember?” Jude took a long swig from his water bottle, poured some over his head, then dried off again.
Denny’s massive shoulders bunched. “Getting rid of girlfriends at the crack of dawn wasn’t on the list of duties when I signed on.”
“Girlfriends?” Jude lowered the towel. “What are you talking about?”
“Kicking ass, that I’ll do. I enjoy a good workout, especially if the one I’m kicking has a camera.”
Dismissing all that, Jude demanded, “What do you mean, girlfriend?”
“Meals, cleaning, hey, no problem. I gotta eat, anyway, and I can’t abide filth. That’s what you pay me for.”
When Denny got on a tirade, it took a lot to shut him down. Jude slashed a hand through the air. “The caller is a woman?”
“I take care of your mail and vet your phone calls. But this shit—”
“Damn it, Denny. What woman?”
As if startled, Denny gave up his diatribe and crossed his arms over his chest. His green eyes narrowed with indignation. “Chunky little thing. Brown hair. In a real tizz. She’s insisting you said she should visit. I told her you sure as hell didn’t mean at five in the morning—”
May was here to see him?
Suddenly rejuvenated, Jude pushed past Denny and took the stairs two at a time to the main level. Even as he raced, he felt like a fool. A pathetically hopeful fool. He did not chase after women.
But May wasn’t just any woman. Hell no. An ordinary woman wouldn’t have him up all night beating the hell out of a leather bag just to burn off sexual tension. He hadn’t been this antsy since Elton Pascal had taken the stand against him, telling lies that everyone believed, damn near getting him crucified.
In several long strides, Jude reached the security screen located in his enormous stainless steel kitchen. Arms braced on the counter, he leaned in to see the monitor, and sure enough, May filled the screen.
Holy shit.
Just outside the closed iron gate, May paced beside an idling car. Jude narrowed his eyes and stared at her.
What the hell had she done with herself?
Given his past problems and current status quo with the paparazzi, he’d bought the very best security system available. The picture on the monitor wasn’t grainy, and it didn’t waver.
The crystal clear image showed May with tumbling hair, poured into skintight pink jeans, and wearing some kind of sneakers that appeared to be yellow and pink checked. Her full breasts gave a tantalizing shape to an otherwise boxy, neon poncho.
She looked…well, not bad, exactly.
But not like herself, either. He knew May, and something had happened, something that would bring her to him at this ungodly hour. Something that would make her dress so differently.
Worry replaced stiff-necked pride—and relief filled the void of his soul.
He had a reason to let her in.
Without taking his gaze off the screen, Jude elbowed Denny. “Ask her what she wants.”
Bemused, Denny eyed him from foot to forehead, then harrumphed. “Already did. She said she had to talk to you.”
“Yeah, but ask her why. Hurry. Before she leaves.”
“Before she..?” Denny drew himself up. “You’re standing right here. Ask her yourself.”
His temper hit a high note. On the verge of exploding, Jude jerked around to face his friend and employee. “ Goddammit, can’t you just once—”
“All right, all right.” Put out and not bothering to hide it, Denny said, “Jesus. Don’t have a hissy.”
Through clenched teeth, Jude growled, “I’m not. I’m…” Feeling desperate. A definite difference. “I’m tired. Now ask her.”
Grumbling, Denny punched the voice relay button. “Hey there, miss?”
Almost tripping over her colorful shoes, May whirled around and rushed back to the intercom. She got so close, Jude could see through the lenses of her glasses to the darkness of her eyes, wide with some wild emotion. “Yes?”
“Jude’s busy. He wants to know what you want.”
On a groan, she knotted both hands into her fluffy hair and turned a circle. Seconds ticked by. Finally, she came back to the intercom and monitor. “Please, tell him…tell him it’s important.” She sounded breathless. She sounded pleading.
Jude’s stomach bottomed out. “Ask her if she’s hurt.”
Denny punched the button. “You hurt?”
“No, I’m…” Arms around herself, she closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know. Please, tell Jude that I have to see him.”
A thousand possibilities crowded through Jude’s brain, but none of them made sense. He refused to act on emotion, no matter that May often drove him to extremes of melodrama. He was a man who weighed his options, who considered all the angles.
Her presence here now afforded him the opportunity to salvage a little pride. He could refuse to see her, as she’d refused him. He could tell her to take a hike, as she’d told him…
Right. He already knew he wouldn’t do that, so delaying the inevitable only tortured them both. “Let her in.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” For whatever reason, she’d come to him. This time he’d keep the upper hand. “Tell her to wait in the library.”
“The library? But that’s upstairs—”
“Across from my bedroom, I know.” The circumstances distracted Jude enough that he didn’t even mind Denny’s look of censure. “The sooner you do it, the sooner you can get back to bed.”
Denny snorted. “As if I’d be able to sleep now.” The buzzer sounded, and Jude heard Denny say, “Drive through, miss. I’ll meet you at the front door.”
Energized, Jude went up the stairs, then down the hall to the master bedroom. Pausing at the entrance to the room, he formulated a plan, one that would go a long way toward restoring his good humor.
God, if Hollywood could see him now. He’d fended off bloodthirsty groupies of the SBC, as well as some of the sexiest marriage-minded starlets in the world. He’d won championship belts in two weight classes, and beaten a murder rap without ever showing the public his rage, or his hurt. He’d taken good movie reviews in stride and bad movie reviews on the chin. No matter what they threw at him, he’d remained imperturbable.
Now one small female had turned him upside down, and he felt like a junkyard dog around a bitch in heat, surly, angry, and hungry. Being with her, having her, consumed his thoughts.
One way or another, he’d reclaim the calm composure associated with his name.
He went to the wall monitor positioned near his door, watching as she drove up to the house. May had finally come to him. Before she left, she’d be his in every way.