Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Carley
This past week has been bliss.
Except for the fact that Nick still hasn’t called.
Dinner on Monday night was more fun than I’d expected it to be.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about having Ren around because Saylor doesn’t have the greatest track record with men.
However, he’s funny, sweet, and really into her—he’s even slept at over the majority of the nights this week.
The guys she tends to flock to are dicks who push her away at the first sign of commitment. Ren seems … different.
For starters, he’s not a trust fund baby, which I think makes a huge difference.
Also, he does actual manual labor, installing residential and commercial security systems. I think Ren will be really good for Saylor, I just hope she doesn’t lose interest in him if she’s not forced to chase him around for a while longer.
When I woke up on Tuesday and saw Mr. Anastos’s email telling me he was going to be out of the office the rest of the week, it was like Christmas had come early. The past couple of days have been quiet instead of filled with disrespectful emails from the cranky boss man.
I’ve been using the time to practice some interview questions. Interviews are the worst. I can sit and have a conversation with ease any time, any day. But these forced, almost fake conversations always feel so awkward.
The other reason I’ve been consuming myself with them is so I don’t obsess over why Nick hasn’t reached out to me.
I’m trying so hard not to think about it.
I can’t lie, I’m worried I blew my chances.
Did Ez actually pass my message along? I like to think he did.
He seemed so sincere when we were talking.
But if that’s true it means Nick doesn’t want to speak to me. Or it could also mean I was right to leave because he doesn’t feel the same way about me as I do him. I can feel my heart begin to crack, but I quickly return to my sheet of questions and answers before it breaks completely.
Another thirty minutes goes by before I hear the ding from the elevator arriving.
My head flies up when it sounds. It’s the first time anyone has arrived since I saw Ez walk through it on Monday.
I’m curious who it is. There are no appointments and no reason anyone else should be up here when Mr. Anastos is out of the office.
When the doors slide open and my eyes land on the one person I thought I would never see again, shockwaves soar through me, causing goose bumps to break out over my skin.
If I thought he was hot half-naked in a bathing suit …
If I thought he looked like a statue sculpted from marble in bed next to me …
Okay, both of those are totally still true.
But the way Nick Evans wears a suit should be illegal.
Fuck. Me.
Literally. Bend me over my fucking desk and take me. I beg you.
As heat I haven’t felt in a month blooms within me, I stand, unsure if my legs will be able to hold me upright.
As though I’m watching a movie, he seems to walk toward me in slow motion.
One hand in his pocket, the other straightening the gold tie around his neck.
His eyes are locked on mine, and they look as dark and possessive as I remember them looking just before he fucked me for the umpteenth time that night.
It’s a long, slow path he’s taking, and it feels like he will never reach my desk.
I sure as hell can’t move, or else I’d help him bridge the gap.
Finally, he approaches me, and my mouth falls open, but no words come out. With a final glance, he passes by me and walks right into Mr. Anastos’s office as though he owns the place.
What is he doing?
The odd maneuver is enough to break me from my spell, and I follow him inside just as he’s making himself comfortable behind Mr. Anastos’s desk.
“Ni—Nick? What are you doing here? You can’t be in here, I’ll get fired.”
This time when he looks at me, it’s dangerous, and I feel my goose bumps return.
“But I thought you hated this job? I thought you were quitting anyway.”
Why would he seem so angry about that? It has nothing to do with him.
“I do hate this job. I don’t really know why Ez chose to tell you that part of our conversation, but I hope he told you the most important part.”
I gaze at him with hopeful eyes as he leans back in his chair and rests his ankle on the knee of his other leg. He runs his hand over his sexy as fuck beard as he appears to think about what I just said. Before answering, he opens Mr. Anastos’s bottom drawer, pulls out his laptop, and turns it on.
“Nick! What are you doing?”
“I thought today was a good day for your probationary period review.”
He stands up and gestures to the chair across from Mr. Anastos’s desk, and that’s when the final piece falls into place.
Oh. Fuck.
I start to hyperventilate, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.
Nick is Mr. Anastos. Mr. Anastos is Nick.
The only reason I take a seat at his request is because I feel like I’ll faint if I don’t. This is why Ez was acting weird when I saw him. This is why Ez couldn’t—didn’t—tell me how he knows Mr. Anastos. He knew … he knows … oh god. Nick—I mean Mr. Anastos—knows how I feel about him.
Oh my god, I called him a dick.
“Okay, let’s get started,” he says.
He’s going to fire me and kick me out of his life at the same time.
“I’ll start out by asking you some questions. After that, I’ll tell you the things I’ve observed, and then you’ll have a chance to make any statements you feel necessary.”
He doesn’t look at me until the last sentence. I really feel like I’m going to lose my lunch at any moment.
“First question. Did you know who I was when we met in Greece?”
This question shocks me. One, because no I had no idea who he was. Two, what does this have to do with my job?
“No,” I clear my throat as I struggle to speak. “No, I had no idea who you were.”
He studies me carefully, looking like he’s not sure I’m telling him the truth. I want to know where he’s going with this. My unease begins to morph into anger.
“Why did you take a position with Okeanós?”
I furrow my brow with confusion at his question.
“Because I needed a job, and they offered me one. Ni—Mr. Anastos, what is this about? With all due respect, which frankly I’m not sure you deserve anymore, what’s with this line of questioning?”
His nostrils flare as I speak.
“I told you, Ms. Garrettson, you will have a chance to make a statement at the conclusion of the review.”
With that, my unease is gone. I can feel my blood pressure rise as he puts me in my place.
“Did you take this position with the intention of seducing and blackmailing me?”
What? The fuck?
I shake my head in disbelief. This is exactly why I don’t give random people my name and why I don’t have meaningless sex with strangers. Because I never know when one of them is a closeted psychopath.
It sure didn’t feel meaningless, though.
I guess that feeling wasn’t mutual.
“This is unbelievable. I’ve never been so insulted in my entire life.”
I stand up, furious, shaking-mad, and storm off. But then I realize I have more to say. A lot more.
“You know what?” I rear back around. “Fuck you.”
I point my finger at him as though it’s a knife I want to slice through his heart. All the anger I’ve had toward Mr. Anastos this past month flows through me. He doesn’t move, and he doesn’t try to stop me so he can continue his ridiculous questioning.
“I thought the biggest mistake I made was leaving your bed without saying goodbye. I thought I ruined any chance at happiness and you were out of my life forever. And you know what? It fucking killed me inside. I’ve done nothing but lie around, bitching, moaning, and complaining that I’ll never find someone as … as … spectacular as you!”
I didn’t want to admit that last fact but fuck it.
“It turns out the mistake was actually crawling into your bed in the first place. God, I’m so fucking stupid.”
With that, I turn on my heel and march out of his office. I fight back the tears that are threatening to fall because I’ll be damned if I let this asshole see me cry.
“Carley, wait,” I hear him call after me, but I’m not turning back.
I’ve waited so long to hear him utter my real name.
But instead of it warming my heart, it hurts.
I don’t care what he has to say, no apology will be good enough.
As I open the bottom drawer of my desk and pull out my purse, I feel him behind me.
His arm snakes around my waist, and his warm breath is in my ear.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. This isn’t how I wanted this to go down. Please don’t leave.”
He spins me in his arms and pierces me with a sorrowful, hopeful gaze. I push him away from me and take a deep breath to calm myself down. Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I cross my arms and wait for him to speak again.
“Will you please come back into my office?”
I shouldn’t do it. I should not go back in there. He doesn’t deserve a second chance, but … what if I hurt him by leaving without saying goodbye that morning? Maybe this is his way of getting back at me?
It’s not very nice, regardless.
I’m sure there’s a lot both of us would like to say. If I can get the reason for this cruel and insensitive interrogation, that would be a good start.
“One condition.”
“Anything.”
“Tell me why you’re acting like this?”
He sighs and looks down. His large hands fall onto his hips, and the vision of them as he thrust into me over and over again forces its way to the forefront of my mind.
Not now, Carley.
“I will, please come sit down.”
He waves his hand toward his office again. Rolling my eyes, I take a deep breath and march back into the room. Flopping down into the chair, like a toddler who doesn’t want to sit in time out, I wait for him to take his seat again.
But he doesn’t. He turns the chair I’m sitting in so it faces the one next to it. Then he sits in that chair so we’re nearly knee to knee.
I cross my arms and legs at the same time and wait for him to speak. With his eyes glued to mine, he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.
“About a year ago, I had an assistant that I … started a physical relationship with. Long story short, she blackmailed me with photos and an audio recording that painted a bad picture of me. It took a lot of money to make it go away, and I regret everything that ever happened between the two of us.”
Um, red flag alert…
I don’t know what to say to that. Was it consensual? Do I work for a monster? What the hell do I have to do with any of this?
“When Ez called me on Monday and told me you were my new assistant, I was ecstatic. I’d been trying to find you ever since you fled, and I was happy I finally knew who you were.”
My heart speeds up when I realize he’s been looking for me, too.
“But when I got to thinking about it more, it all seemed like too big of a coincidence. And finding out you gave me a fake name, I thought it was happening all over again. That you were like her and were going to try and set me up for something I didn’t do in exchange for money.”
“I mean, I know we don’t know one another, but after the connection we had in Greece … Do you really think so little of me?”
“No.”
His quick answer stuns me. If he didn’t actually think it, then why go through all of this?
“If you recall, you were the one who asked me out on a date,” I remind him. “Also, Nick Evans, I’m not the only one who wasn’t truthful about their name.”
“I know. And I know I’ve been incredibly unfair to you today, but I didn’t think she was that kind of person, either. At least, not in the beginning.”
“And what kind of person are you, Mr.—”
“Dimos. Please, call me Dimos.”
“Which version of you is more accurate, Dimos?”
His eyes light up when his name rolls off my lips.
“Are you the romantic gentleman who rescued me by the poolside? The generous lover whose bed I shared? Or the arrogant asshole who has been making my life a living hell the past month?”
Tension tics in his jaw as I spit those final words at him. Does he know who he is? Is he afraid to tell me? Afraid it will drive me away? I’m halfway gone already, so it might not matter anyhow.
“I guess you could say all of them are different parts of me.”
I wasn’t expecting that. I thought he’d try to excuse his way out of his behavior the past month.
“The reason for my brash behavior as your boss has nothing to do with you. Ever since … my mistake … I’ve kept my distance from my assistants.
They only work out of this office, instead of with me in California.
I only communicate through email so everything is in writing.
I’m short with them so nothing I say will come off as flirtatious or anything other than professional. ”
He takes a deep breath and runs his hand over his chin.
“And I don’t give out my real name because when people know who I am, they don’t see me. They see dollar signs. It’s really hard getting to know someone when you’re wondering if they’re with you for you or for your money.”
There’s a reason I don’t give my real name to people also.
It was because of a guy I met at a bar once.
Things started out great, but he got more and more clingy as the night went on.
He ended up finding out where I lived and stalking me.
Saylor and I had to move twice before he ended up getting arrested for something unrelated.
I haven’t heard from him since, thankfully.
“Safety reasons.” I don’t want to delve into the details with him just yet, so that’s as much of a reason as he’s getting. “It’s why I gave you the wrong name. And regardless of why you did the same thing, that still doesn’t give you the right to come in here and treat me like shit.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I’d like to start over, if you’ll let me.”
He places a hand gently on my knee, and I know I’m in trouble. Suddenly, all I can think about is climbing into his lap and telling him I forgive him.
But I can’t.