Chapter Six
ALFIE
One Week Later
Aweek flies by in an instant and I have Piper Beckett to thank for it.
There’s something about this woman that I can’t put my finger on.
She’s changing me in unimaginable ways, and I’m loving every second of it.
She’s carved her way into every part of my routine.
She’s the first person I see when I step through the door at work, and it makes every morning start with a smile.
“The Silent Surveillance launch went off without a hitch,” Scott Dietrich says, as he raises his beer to cheer our success.
“It’s a big win, Alfie. Fucking huge, actually. Soon the West Coast will be peppered with our security drones, and we’ll be rolling in the green.” He rubs his thumb over two fingers to signify money.
We’re at my club celebrating the company’s triumph. It’s busy tonight. The dancefloor is packed with moving bodies grooving to the beat of the music. The waitresses don’t have time to catch their breath and the barmen are running back and forth fulfilling orders.
When I bought the Night Owl Club, a few years ago, I didn’t care about its continued success.
It was a place to come and have a drink, or to celebrate these victories.
But with my name above the mantel, it seems everyone’s eager to come here, on the rare chance that they get to meet me and pitch some bullshit design to bring under my banner.
Others find enjoyment in snapping pictures from afar, blocked off by my meaty bouncers while I’m hidden in my secluded booth.
“I’m telling you, Alf, we struck a gold mine on this thing,” Scott adds. He’s been speaking ever since we left the showroom. Constantly running his mouth about everything and nothing.
One thing he keeps getting wrong is that we did it. We didn’t do anything.
I did.
I created Silent Surveillance. I had a hand in writing the code.
I set up the shell corporations and the security detail.
I played a part in the goddamn marketing campaign.
There wasn’t a line I wasn’t willing to cross to see this through, no matter how much money I’ve thrown at big firms to handle it.
I don’t say any of this, so as not to sour the mood of our evening out.
“The first devices have been installed, have they not?” I ask.
“Sure have. A couple of rich fucks who value their safety, and then some mega-corps who don’t want unwanted faces sneaking into their buildings late at night,” he says. “If sales keep going the way they are, we’ll break even before the weekend.”
Not true, we both know it, but he’s exaggerating to lift my spirits. Not that I’m in a particularly bad mood, and I’m sure he can see it. I’ve caught myself smiling like a goddamn fool ever since Piper joined the firm, and it’s started affecting my state of mind.
At times it scares me. The idea of losing myself to this infatuation with a woman.
I’ve spent my life fighting off and ignoring the advances of women.
Instead, I concentrated on excelling in this world.
So far, it’s worked. But there’s something different about Piper.
She hooks my attention and keeps me pinned.
This isn’t something I can numb and switch off.
I find myself wanting to listen to her, and miss her when she’s not near me.
Hell, I’d rather be out celebrating with her than Scott. That’s admitting far more than I honestly care to. No more introspection for tonight.
“If anything were to happen on launch night, United Arms would be on top of it?” I ask.
“Face recognition hasn’t been implemented in most spots. It’s easier to do in houses than in big companies,” Scott says, taking a sip of his Mai Tai. “But sure as shit, if anything was gonna happen to one of these rich bastards, United Arms would be alerted.”
“Wonderful.” I ease into the booth and take in the sights and sounds of the club.
Scott and I would usually be prowling by now. Scoping out various women and finding a suitable partner to spend our evening with. I’m sure it’s on the top of his mind, and he’s going to let me hear it soon enough.
But no one catches my attention tonight. Another one of Piper’s hexes, I suppose. She’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a partner, and the very thought of looking at anyone else feels wrong. I chuckle at the absurdity.
“So, what’s on the agenda for tonight?” Scott asks, right on cue. “Are we going to sample some snacks?” He waves a hand towards the dancefloor.
“Not tonight, no,” I say. It doesn’t take long for a smile to creep across his face.
“Of course not. You’ve got your red velvet tart waiting for you,” he snickers.
I presume red velvet tart means Piper.
It’s no secret that we’ve developed some sort of office romance. I’ve managed to keep the intensity of it mostly under wraps, but it would be hard to miss my budding interest in her. It has to be the reason his rude remarks immediately put me on edge.
“Can’t a man enjoy his victory without wanting to fuck?” I shrug.
“Sure, but we both know the best way to celebrate is in the company of strangers,” Scott says.
“A dime a dozen.”
“And you’ve found yourself a pound cake?” Scott laughs.
“A pound cake?” I furrow my brow at his comment.
“You know? ‘Cause the Brits use pounds and the cake thing?” His cheeks turn a light shade of pink.
I got his joke. It was bad. Embarrassment is his penance.
“Look, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this thing anyway.” Scott slurps the last few drops of his drink. “You really think starting an office romance with your secretary is a good idea? It’s made mighty men crumble in the past.”
“My personal affairs aren’t your business, are they?” I say.
“No, no, but the company is,” he says hastily. “I don’t want to see things turn sour because you’ve found a hot piece of ass to suck you off under the desk.”
It’s my turn to feel uncomfortable since it’s already happened. The thought of it has consumed my every waking minute.
“It’s different with this one,” I say.
I can’t expect him to understand my interest and intrigue in Piper, because I don’t even understand it myself. She’s an enigma, and I want to unravel every dirty little secret.
“She’s something special, I’ll tell you that much.”
“Special…” Scott ponders the word. “Well, I hope you’re right about that. Can’t be too careful these days.”
“You’re damned right,” I say.
“Just thought I’d bring it up.” Scott starts scooching himself out of the booth. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a smoking hot brunette on that dancefloor who’s been giving me the fuck me eyes since we walked in. I’d be a fool not to oblige.”
“You’re already a fool, my friend.” I extend a hand and we shake. “But go, enjoy your evening. I’m about to head out anyway.”
By the time Scott hits the dancefloor, I’m halfway to the exit. I don’t want to be here with a bunch of drunks, eager to show their friendly side because of my status. I want to be at home, with Piper at my side, listening to shitty old records and laughing the night away.
Good God, what is this woman doing to me?