2
Vivian
The Office
Vivian Kaye collected her tea from the breakroom and checked the hall before stepping out. As yet, no one had said anything about her encounter with Rowan Valkyrie, but she didn’t think that silence would last.
She had gone into that elevator so incredibly full of confidence.
Howard Hoskins had given the problem of Valkyrie Security to Belinda Erikson—the Harvard Law Bitch who thought delivering a cease-and-desist letter was beneath her—but Belinda hadn’t been able to figure out how to do it.
The Valkyrie website had only a generic info at email address.
Phone calls were trapped in the morass of automation and well-trained front desk staff.
Visits to the office were met with polite refusals of access.
Registered mail would have gotten the job done, but Howard wanted to know that Rowan Valkyrie himself had received it, and he wanted it delivered by the end of the week.
So Belinda, with a smile, had dropped the problem on Vivian. Belinda hated that the top partner treated a lowly paralegal like Vivian with such respect. Vivian knew that Belinda was absolutely gleeful at the prospect of Vivian disappointing Howard.
What Belinda didn’t understand—what none of the privileged lawyers who walked the halls of Hoskins, Branch, and Kato understood—was that Vivian did not fail.
If her father had left her nothing else, it was the Marine Corps motto: Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome.
Her father, a decorated Marine Corps veteran, had died from cancer due to chemical exposure in Afghanistan when Vivian had been eighteen.
It had slowed her college career and left her adrift in grief, but she had done what she knew would make her father proud—she had survived and excelled.
And never, not for one second, was someone like Belinda going to take her down.
Vivian had taken on the mission to find Rowan Valkyrie and deliver the letter personally.
The number of locations he was exposed to interaction were limited, so she’d had to discover his patterns.
A few hours of watching the security recordings had given her Valkyrie’s habits.
The security guards disliked the Valkyrie crew and were happy to oblige.
The interns had loved riding the elevator for a paid half hour and free coffee.
All Vivian had to do was hand him the cease-and-desist letter, and it would have been mission accomplished.
Vivian heard the drawling, confident voice of Belinda from up the hall and took a quick left, hurrying into the secretarial cubicle nest. Belinda made secretaries come to her, so it was a safe place to hide.
Vivian hadn’t failed in her mission—she had delivered the letter after all. But it was only a matter of time before Rowan Valkyrie placed a phone call and demanded an explanation as to why Vivian had unloaded an insult and profanity-laced tirade on him as well as the letter.
The worst part was that Vivian couldn’t even explain herself.
She’d looked all the way up into his hazel eyes with their green flecks and smug expression and realized that Rowan Valkyrie was someone who had gotten double helpings of handsome and powerful.
Then she’d realized that she was leaning in.
She was not supposed to be affected by his charm. She liked sensible, practical guys! Not whatever the hell Rowan Valkyrie was.
Gorgeous and charismatic.
No. He was a jerk.
A challenge.
He’d been sarcastic and rude. And that was why Vivian had unloaded everything she thought no one would ever dare tell him.
Not because she wanted to prove that he didn’t get to win at every aspect of life just by looking like that. Definitely not that.
“Hey, Viv,” said Courtney, looking up from her desk. Vivian grimaced, and the younger girl looked startled. “Did you need something? I was going to email you about the research you asked me to pull.”
“Oh, yeah, don’t sweat that,” whispered Vivian. “I’m good until tomorrow. I’m just hiding.”
“Hiding?” she whispered, and Vivian nodded.
“Belinda?” Courtney guessed, her expression souring.
Vivian knew the administrative assistants took twice the flak from Belinda that Vivian did, and she tried to buffer them, but there was only so much she could do.
The secretaries still appreciated it, but that only pissed Belinda off because Vivian was better-liked as a result.
Courtney stood up and checked a mirror that hung behind her monitor.
“Front hallway is clear,” she said giving her blonde hair a little pat.
Vivian realized, in admiration, that Courtney could see the reflection from the windows in the hall from her carefully angled mirror. Courtney could easily spot visitors from either direction. The willowy assistant had ambush-proofed her desk.
“Thanks,” Vivian whispered, hurrying out to the corridor.
Outside the window, the Seattle waterfront skyline made for gloomy viewing.
The weather had broken with sunny September tradition and rain smacked the windows in a passive-aggressive drizzle that no one was prepared for.
Through the rain drops she could see the Ferris wheel on the waterfront illuminated in Seahawks blue and green for the upcoming game.
The hall route led through the front lobby and was the long way around to get to her cubicle in front of Mr. Hoskins’ office, but it was better than a short walk and a long talk with Belinda.
Hoskins, Branch, and Kato was the city’s premier law firm, and Vivian was lucky to work there, but she had worked her ass off to get the job and was good at what she did.
Belinda, however, always managed to make Vivian’s community college and state school education sound like a black mark on the company’s reputation.
All but certain she’d escaped for at least the rest of the day, Vivian rounded the corner—the safety of her desk mere steps away—and stopped in horror.
Howard stood in the doorway of his office, chatting with none other than Rowan Valkyrie.
Having stalked him in the course of her mission, Vivian knew that the handsome forty-two-year-old with just a sprinkling of gray in his near-black hair was retired Marine Force Recon.
She knew he had multiple medals. She knew he had government security clearance and had worked for billionaires, ambassadors, foreign dignitaries, and rock stars.
From shoving her letter into his jacket, she also knew he had a rock-solid chest. And from being in the very close proximity of an elevator for one hundred and nine seconds, she knew that he smelled like pine trees, had a scar on the back of his left hand, and practically vibrated with an intense energy that probably had women falling at his feet.
What Vivian didn’t know was why the hell he was here.
Howard was in the middle of a sentence. Considering that he’d been a lawyer for thirty years, that sentence could go on for a while. Rowan checked his watch.
“Howard,” he said, holding up his hand in a stop signal. Mr. Hoskins stopped talking from sheer surprise. She doubted that anyone had interrupted him in years. “I appreciate your time and your thoughts. However, as I mentioned, I have exactly five minutes, and we’re at four ten and counting.”
“Ah,” said Howard.
“I don’t want to impose a time limit on you, but my recommendation is that you use Vivian to communicate with us. She appears to be able to be succinct.”
He knew her name? She hadn’t told him her name. Fuck.
“She does have a talent for brevity,” agreed Howard, nodding thoughtfully and not looking the least put-out.
“Great,” said Rowan, nodding. “I’m glad we could carve out this time.” He wheeled around and looked her up and down. “Vivian, you’re with me.”
More fuck.
“Uh,” said Vivian, looking toward Howard, but he had gone back into his office.
“You’re walking me to the elevator.”
Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.
“OK,” said Vivian, trotting a little to keep up with his long strides. Only when they were well past her desk and into the foyer did she realize she still had her tea mug in one hand.
“This is my card.” His hand snapped out, producing a white card like a magic trick.
Vivian took it from him because she didn’t know what else to do.
“I have spoken to my employees. However, if there are any further complaints, you will call me. If I have concerns regarding building protocol, I will call you.”
They stopped in front of the elevator bank, and he jabbed the button.
“Do you have any questions?” he said, finally turning to face her.
She shouldn’t. Rowan was a CEO, older and rich enough to buy everything she owned about twelve times over.
He was in charge—he practically radiated in-chargeness.
Actually, what he radiated was big daddy energy of the kind that made her want to bend over and say she’d been naughty.
That kind of person, even when they asked for questions, didn’t get asked questions.
“Why did they do it in the first place?”
It was possible that she had a tiny authority problem. Maybe Rowan could discipline her for it?
Damn it. What was wrong with her?
“They didn’t want to take the construction detour, and they are used to getting away with things. I’m sure you understand.”
“Me? Why?” Vivian was offended at the idea that she shared any affinity with his hooligans.
“You seem to have figured out that being brave enough to do something usually gets you what you want.”
Vivian wanted to make a retort but couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Even worse, he looked like he knew it.
“Right,” Rowan said with a cocky smirk, his hazel eyes sparkling maliciously.
As if on cue, the elevator door opened, and he got in.
“Have a nice day, Miss Kaye.”