Terra
Not because of Taurex exactly—though the fact that she had agreed to go work for a giant alien Minotaur she had met while naked in the VIP lounge of a strip club, was certainly high on the list of things that made her question her own judgment.
At the moment, however, the thing making her swear under her breath was the ancient Honda sputtering unhappily beneath her as she crawled through morning traffic from Seminole Heights toward downtown Tampa.
“Come on, baby,” she murmured, patting the steering wheel as the engine gave an ominous little cough at a red light. “You just got a new alternator. Don’t start any more shit with me.”
The Honda responded by vibrating hard enough to make the rearview mirror shake.
The light turned green, and she eased forward, keeping one nervous eye on the temperature gauge.
The car had been old when she and Jackson bought it used almost eleven years ago and since then it had acquired a collection of small problems that appeared and disappeared with maddening unpredictability.
The passenger-side window no longer rolled all the way down, the air conditioner only worked if she had already been driving for at least ten minutes, and the upholstery on the driver’s seat was split badly enough that Terra had covered it with a cheap seat cover from Walmart so the foam wouldn’t stick to the backs of her thighs.
But it was paid for–that was all that mattered.
She could have used part of the two thousand dollars Taurex had given her to put a down payment on something newer, but she wasn’t about to do that. The money needed to stretch. The Honda might be ugly and temperamental but, for the moment at least, it still ran.
And if this new job worked out, maybe eventually she could think about replacing it.
If this new job works out. Terra tightened her hands on the steering wheel. She still couldn't believe she had actually called him! Couldn’t believe she’d taken the job.
After leaving The Doll House the night before, she had gone straight home, showered until she felt like she had scrubbed Viktor Orlov's hands off her skin, then sat awake in bed for nearly an hour thinking about what she had done.
She hadn't told her mother what had happened—at least not the whole story. She had simply said she'd gotten an office job and wouldn't be working at the club anymore, which had made her mother so happy that Terra had immediately felt guilty for all the months of lying.
Of course, then she'd had to explain why this wonderful office job had appeared out of nowhere, so she'd said it was through a business contact.
That wasn't technically a lie–it was simply a very creative interpretation of reality.
She had also spent most of the night replaying her conversation with Taurex and wondering if she ought to call him back and cancel. He had sounded genuinely surprised when she'd asked about the job—as though he'd almost forgotten he had offered it—but he'd recovered quickly enough.
Office manager. That was respectable. More than respectable, actually. And when she had told him she was studying accounting, he had sounded positively relieved.
Still, Terra had no idea what she was walking into. Maybe the whole thing really was just an elaborate attempt to get her close to him. Maybe she would arrive and discover there was no business at all—just a huge bed and Taurex standing beside it with a smug expression.
The thought should have frightened her. Instead, an unwanted memory flashed through her mind of his enormous body beneath her in the VIP booth, his golden eyes watching while she pressed the little vibrator against herself.
Terra shifted in the driver's seat, feeling sudden heat between her thighs,
“No, uh-uh. Nope–we’re not thinking about that today,” she told herself firmly.
She wasn't going there–wasn’t going to remember how huge the ridge of his cock had felt when she was grinding against him.
This was a job–a real, legitimate job. One she could do with her clothes on and that was what she was going to think about. Not her time in the VIP lounge with the big Monstrum. She was going to keep her clothes on, do office work, earn money, and figure out the rest later.
The Montana Building came into view as she crossed into downtown–all glass and pale stone rising high above the neighboring structures.
Terra had seen it before, of course—everyone who lived in Tampa had.
It was one of the newer luxury towers built during the seemingly endless wave of downtown development, the kind of place Terra drove past and never imagined actually entering unless she was delivering something.
Even from the street, it looked expensive–very expensive.
“Of course he lives there,” she muttered. Taurex apparently didn't do anything halfway.
Finding the entrance to the parking garage took her two trips around the block because the first time she missed the narrow turn completely and wound up circling back through traffic.
The second time she managed to get into the right lane and followed the signs down into the garage, where she immediately felt conspicuous among rows of sleek luxury cars.
She passed by a Mercedes, BMWs, a Porsche and something electric that Terra couldn't even identify but which looked like it cost more than her mother's house.
Her Honda clattered past them like an elderly shopping cart crashing a black-tie event.
“Don't be intimidated,” Terra told herself firmly. “You belong here just as much as anybody else.”
The Honda's fan squealed as though to disagree with her.
“You’re not helping,” she told it, frowning.
The first three levels of the Montana Building were devoted entirely to parking, and after driving around longer than she wanted to admit, Terra finally found a space near the back of the third level beside an enormous black SUV.
She pulled in carefully, turned off the engine and sat for a moment with both hands on the steering wheel.
Her heart was beating too fast, and her palms were sweaty.
This was ridiculous, Terra told herself.
She had raised two children. She had dealt with Jackson through a divorce.
She had gone onstage half naked in front of rooms full of drunk men and learned how to smile even when she wanted to tell somebody to go to hell.
She could certainly walk into a fancy building and start an office job.
Terra checked herself in the mirror. She had dressed carefully that morning in one of the few business outfits she owned—a dark blue knee-length skirt, a cream blouse and low black heels.
The blouse was slightly old-fashioned but flattering, and she'd added a thin black belt around her waist. Her real brown hair was pulled back in a low twist, and she had deliberately used much less makeup than she wore at The Doll House.
No glitter, no fake lashes, no blonde wig. No Bunny Canyon.
Just Terra.
She hoped Taurex liked her like this. But if he didn’t, too bad. She wasn’t here to strip–she was here to manage his office.
She picked up her purse, grabbed the cheap leather portfolio she'd bought years ago when she'd first considered going back to school and climbed out of the car.
It was time to go to work.
The elevator from the garage took her directly to the lobby level and when the doors opened, Terra stepped out into a world that looked nothing like any apartment building she had ever been inside.
The lobby was enormous, with ceilings at least two stories high and walls covered in cream-colored stone threaded with pale gold.
Enormous modern chandeliers hung overhead–not the crystal kind Terra associated with old hotels, but sculptural sweeps of gold and glass that glowed warmly against the polished surfaces.
The floor was marble—real marble, judging by the cool gleam beneath her shoes—and a long reception desk made of dark wood sat beneath an enormous arrangement of white orchids.
Beyond the desk were clusters of low cream sofas arranged around glass tables, each grouping separated by tall planters filled with tropical greenery.
The windows facing the street stretched from floor to ceiling and the morning sunlight poured through them, making everything gleam with opulence and wealth.
Terra slowed without meaning to.
Holy shit–people actually lived like this.
She became uncomfortably aware of the fact that her purse had come from Target and the cheap portfolio under her arm had a scratch across one corner. She felt like the Country Mouse from the old fairy tale going to visit the City Mouse for the first time.
Nobody seemed to be paying attention to her, but Terra felt as though they were. How could anyone look at her and not know she was out of place?
That’s enough of that, she told herself firmly. You belong here as much as anyone else.
She straightened her shoulders and kept walking.
There were several banks of elevators along one wall, each with discreet brass lettering above it. RESIDENTIAL LEVELS, read one. AMENITIES, read a second. PARKING, was the one she’d come out of.
Separated slightly from the others, was a pair of elevators with polished gold doors. PENTHOUSE ACCESS, read the brass plaque above.
Terra lifted her chin and headed across the marble lobby toward the golden elevator. She was almost there when a woman's voice stopped her.
“Excuse me? Miss?”
Terra turned.
One of the lobby employees had come out from behind the reception desk. She was probably in her thirties, tall and painfully elegant in a fitted black suit with her dark hair pulled into a perfect bun. A little gold nameplate pinned to her lapel read Marissa.
“Yes?” Terra asked.
Marissa smiled, but it was the kind of smile that didn't reach her eyes.
“Can I help you find something?” she asked, her eyes sweeping up and down Terra’s cheap clothes and secondhand shoes. “I don’t believe we’ve seen you here before.”
“No, thank you. I know where I'm going,” Terra said firmly, though her heart was pounding. She turned back toward the gold elevators.
But Marissa clearly wasn’t one to give up when she thought that she’d sniffed out an intruder.
“I’m sorry but those elevators are restricted,” she said, with a warning tone in her voice.
Terra looked at her coolly, trying to appear unaffected by her tone.
“I know.”
“Penthouse residents and authorized guests only,” the other woman emphasized.
“I know,” Terra repeated.
For a moment the woman simply stared at her, like she couldn’t believe Terra could be so dense and so low class at the same time.
Terra knew that look.
She had gotten variations of it at expensive stores when she wore jeans, and nobody bothered to ask if she needed help and at school conferences when she didn’t have time to remove her wig and makeup after dancing.
And she had certainly gotten it at The Doll House whenever some wealthy customer realized that “Bunny Canyon” actually had opinions.
It was the look people gave when they had already decided where you belonged and Terra was tired of it. It made her think of that scene in Pretty Woman where the snooty counter girl wouldn’t let Julia Roberts shop at the fancy boutique.
“I'm going to the penthouse,” she said bluntly.
Marissa's elegantly sculpted brows rose ever so slightly.
“And do you have an appointment?” she asked, clearly thinking there was no way Terra could possibly have an appointment with anyone who lived in such a rarified space.
Terra lifted her chin higher.
“Yes, I do.”
“With whom?” Marissa wanted to know.
Terra smiled sweetly.
“With a gentleman named Taurex. He’s a Minotaur Monstrum. Maybe you know him?”
For the first time, the woman's expression changed–not much, but enough. Instead of looking snooty, she now looked surprised.
“Mr. Taurex?” she repeated. “You know him?”
“Yes. I'm his new office manager,” Terra told him. “So you’ll probably be seeing me around quite a bit.”
She gave the other woman a knowing smile and then turned back to the elevator and pressed the call button.
To her relief, the gold doors opened immediately so she didn’t have to stand there with the snooty attendant staring at her in disbelief.
She stepped inside at once, but Marissa stepped in after her, a determined look on her face.
“I'm sorry, but you'll need authorization before—”
Terra opened the small keypad panel beside the elevator controls. Then, very deliberately, she punched in the code Taurex had given her.
The display flashed green, and letters appeared on the electronic panel.
ACCESS GRANTED. PENTHOUSE LEVEL.
For one delicious second, Terra simply looked at Marissa.
There–take that! she thought but didn’t say.
The other woman stared at the display in apparent disbelief, then she cleared her throat.
“Well, I suppose since you have the code…”
“Have a nice day,” Terra said sweetly. “I’m sure I’ll see you later when the boss and I go to lunch.”
Of course, she didn’t know any such thing, but she couldn’t help rubbing it in some. She liked surprising people and disrupting their expectations–especially when they had already made a judgment about her.
Reluctantly, Marissa stepped back out, leaving her alone in the golden elevator and the doors slid closed.
Terra waited until they were completely shut before muttering,
“Big mistake. Huge,” and grinning to herself.
Then she pressed the button for the penthouse and the golden elevator took her up to her new life.