Chapter 5
Trevor
Where the fuck is Maren’s car?
I scan the parking lot one more time, just to be sure I didn’t miss it, but the older model, four-door sedan is nowhere in sight. Is it possible it broke down on her? That she’s stranded somewhere on the side of the road?
I know she wouldn’t call me if that was the case, but I assume she’d call Brooke. And Brooke knows I had a meeting with our insurance broker at his office this morning, so surely if Maren needed a ride, someone would have called me.
Turning away from the lot, I stalk in the building, ignoring the guard who waves as I enter. I know it’s not his fault Ray betrayed us, but I don’t have any interest in becoming friendly with any of them, just to be on the safe side.
Instead of going to my office, I head straight for Brooke’s, getting more and more irritated with each step I take. If Maren was having car trouble, she should’ve let one of us know. We could’ve arranged for a rental car, or helped her find a trustworthy mechanic. There’s no reason for her to—
I stop, staring at where Maren sits behind her desk, eyes fused to the laptop in front of her.
The sight of her is so unexpected, my brain and mouth go out of sync, and I find myself blurting out, “Where the fuck is your car?”
Maren’s head swivels my way, lips flattening as her eyes meet mine. “Who are you talking to like that?” She angles a brow. “Because I know it isn’t me.”
I almost smile. This woman never disappoints me. Never misses an opportunity to come at me. Not even when I’m balls deep inside her.
A fact I should not be considering right now. Not when there’s no way to hide my body’s response to the memory.
Clearing my throat, I refocus my thoughts, getting them back in the game Maren and I always play.
“There’s no one else here, so it seems like I am talking to you.
” My feet move toward her, closing the distance between us so I can get a better look.
Ensure she’s as safe and sound as she appears.
“Why isn’t your car in the parking lot?”
“Why are you looking for my car in the parking lot?” She turns the question right back at me, snapping it out.
Unfortunately, I don’t have a great answer for that.
I honestly don’t know why I look for Maren’s car on the days I arrive after her.
Probably the same reason I look for it on the days I leave before she does.
There aren’t many, but every time it happens, I look for the used vehicle, giving it a once over to make sure there are no glaring issues.
No tires losing air or fluids leaking onto the blacktop.
There’s only been one time I found a problem. One of her rear tires was on the verge of going flat, and it was easy enough to get one of Toby’s employees to handle it on his lunch hour. Maren didn’t even notice the brand new set of tires I had him put on.
“I wasn’t looking for your car specifically. I was checking the parking lot to make sure it didn’t need to be re-surfaced this summer, when I noticed it wasn’t there.” That actually sounds plausible.
I should probably do what I’m claiming anyway. It’s been a few years since the lot’s been touched up, and the salt and ice is hell on it in the winter.
One more fucking thing to worry about.
Maren’s expression is skeptical as she continues staring at where I stand. “Did you need something else?”
I don’t like the way she’s trying to dismiss me, and I’ll be damned if I let her think the only reason I’m here is because of her. “I came to see Brooke.”
“That’s too bad then, because she’s not here.” Maren gives me a syrupy sweet smile. “Would you like me to let her know you stopped by?”
I consider it, but then I’ll have to come up with some important reason we needed to touch base instead of the lame excuse of our common lawn care service I was going to use. “It’s not important. I’ll just catch up with her later.”
Maren has already turned back to her computer. “Perfect.”
I’m not used to being ignored, and as much as I like Maren’s defiant temperament, I don’t like how easy it is for her to brush me off. Like I didn’t have to swallow down the noises she made when I got her off a few days ago.
Has it only been a few days? It feels like it’s been longer than that.
Too long.
I thought after how well things went, Maren would come and ask for another round. Maybe set up a standing appointment of some sort. It was a mutually beneficial experience, and she’s acting like it didn’t even happen.
And it chaps my fucking ass.
“Perfect.” I refuse to let her have the last word, and getting it in makes me feel a tiny bit better. Until I hear her as I walk away.
“Fantastic.”
I stop, turning. “Excellent.”
She gives me another sickly sweet smile. “Wonderful.”
“Great.”
“Amazing.” She snaps back.
Now I’m starting to get annoyed. I’m also starting to run out of words. “Awesome.”
Maren doesn’t seem to be struggling as much as I am to come up with her next adjective. “Fabulous.”
“Cool.” I’m not proud of that one, but it’s better than nothing.
Maren’s eyes narrow on me. “Marvelous.”
Fucking hell. What’s another word for great? “Terrific.”
“Lovely.” Again, she doesn’t miss a beat, and I’m wondering where in the hell she keeps her thesaurus.
“Swell.” I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel here.
Maren scoffs, the sound turning into a laugh. “What nineteen fifties sitcom did you just walk out of?”
I must be a little touchy, because once again, I speak without thinking. “The one where people don’t fight with their boss.”
Maren scowls. “You’re not my boss.”
Technically, she’s correct. Brooke is her boss. But I’m kind of Brooke’s boss. Sort of. In a way.
“Thank God.” For a minute there, I thought Maren would be a great assistant. I still think she’s a great assistant, just not for me. I can’t imagine how many cups of coffee I’d end up wearing, or how much we would actually get done between bickering matches.
“Agreed.” Again, Maren is determined to have the last word.
And again, so am I.
But I don’t get it out fast enough.
“There you are.” Ruth strides down the hall toward us. “Security said you came in, but that you turned down this hall instead of going to your office.”
“I came to see if Brooke was in her office.” I stick with the story I gave Maren. “But she’s not.”
Ruth’s eyes flick to Maren before coming back to me. “Would you like for me to schedule a time to meet with her?”
“No. It’s not a big deal.” I turn from Maren, fighting the urge to look back as I walk with Ruth in the direction of my office. “Has everything been relatively quiet?”
Ruth snorts. “Nothing is ever quiet around here.” She pauses when we reach the end of the hall, turning back to give Maren a wave. “I’ll see you later.”
Maren offers Ruth a genuine smile. The sort she never gives me. “After a while, crocodile.”
Ruth goes back to leading me away, running down everything we would have discussed in our morning meeting if I hadn’t started my day outside of the office.
It seems we have bids for landscaping to go over, a new freight carrier to consider, and an upgraded system for Walker’s division that I need to learn at some point.
I do my best to have the capability of keeping every part of the company up and running in case of an emergency.
I don’t have to be as great at running their departments as my brothers and cousin are, but I do need to know how to keep things afloat.
Titus having twins and Walker and Toby being in an accident showed just how valuable that skill set is.
Instead of everything going to shit while they had to take time off, I was able to step in and handle what had to be handled.
Did I have to work nearly around-the-clock to accomplish it? Yes. But what the fuck else do I have to do?
Lunch feels like it comes earlier than normal since my day started late, and before I’m ready, Ruth is gone to spend the hour with Tucker, leaving me alone.
I decide to make it a working lunch, and plow through the wrap she ordered me while watching the training video for Walker’s new system.
His division is the original portion of the company.
It’s where everything started, and it still brings in a substantial chunk of the company’s income, so making sure I can keep the warehouse and shipping department running in a pinch is important.
Unfortunately, this new system Titus’s team has designed is significantly more complicated than the previous one.
I get the reason for that—keeping everything from ordering to shipping to inventory in one location will save time in the long run—but figuring out how to navigate this thing is a nightmare.
I feel like I haven’t really made any headway by the time Ruth returns, looking pink cheeked and perky.
She obviously had a more enjoyable lunch than I did.
After clearing away the remnants of my food, she accompanies me to the meeting I have scheduled with Titus and the security team.
This one’s to go over the protocol we initiated after discovering Ray had passed out key cards and information, making us susceptible to another attack.
Since Titus was in the office yesterday, he’s joining by video.
While Ruth sets up a computer at the end of the table, I refresh my memory on everything we’ve implemented.
As the heads of our security team file in, I look each one over, searching for any suspicious behaviors.
I hope lightning wouldn’t strike twice, but at this point, I just don’t know that I’m willing to bank on it.
Not when my employees are at stake, and sure as hell not when my family’s safety is at risk.
His team has all the digital information collected by our card readers and cameras, so Titus runs the meeting for the most part. All I have to do is sit back and pay attention. Which is not as easy as it usually is.
Because where the fuck is Maren’s car?
Did someone else bring her to work? Surely she wouldn’t have spent the night at some other man’s house. Not so soon after we—
I stand up abruptly, every eye in the room coming my way as they wait for me to explain what the fuck I’m doing. Good luck with that. Because I don’t actually know what the fuck I’m doing. The best I have to offer is, “I’ll be right back.”
I head straight out of the room, going directly to my office and closing the door behind me. I don’t need Ruth peeking her head in here to see what I’m up to. Honestly, it’s a little unhinged.
But I’ve got to know. Otherwise I might drive myself fucking nuts wondering.
I log into our security system, and begin going through the video feed recordings, focusing on the ones from the parking lot this morning.
There are a few drop-offs, but none of them are Maren.
I practically have my nose pressed to the screen as I search for her, agitation making it difficult to sit still.
Because what am I going to do if she was dropped off by some other man? I can’t confront her about it. It’s not like there’s any sort of agreement between the two of us. No understanding of anything remotely close to exclusivity.
It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask her for that anyway. Not when I have so little to offer.
“Fuck.” I lean back in my seat, scrubbing one hand over my face as I rub at my burning eyes. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here without blinking, but my corneas are starting to dry out.
I’m being fucking ridiculous. Selfish. Acting like I can have my cake and eat it too. I can’t. I tried that. Many times.
It didn’t fucking work.
I reach for my mouse, ready to close out the security footage, when a familiar form cuts across the screen. Maren always walks like she’s on a mission, cranking one arm for added momentum like it will help her move faster. That’s just how she’s walking across my computer screen now.
From the back portion of the lot.
Because I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to her, I back the feed up, following her reverse trajectory until I see why I couldn’t find her car this morning.
Maren didn’t drive her car. Instead of climbing from a four-door sedan, my little terror slides free of a minivan. A minivan with a body shape that’s just a little different.
Why in the hell is Maren driving a minivan? And what exactly is different about it? We modify plenty of vehicles here, but I can’t quite tell what’s been done to this particular unit.
Not from this feed anyway.
I start pulling up other views, zeroing in on the location where she parked. Finally, I manage to get a halfway decent look at the side, and something clicks. It’s an accessible van. One made to easily transport people with mobility issues who require wheelchairs or scooters.
But again, why in the hell is Maren driving a minivan? An accessible minivan, no less.
Is her car in the shop and she borrowed it from someone? Most people who own a van like that have it for a reason, and can’t just do without it.
It doesn’t make sense, and I don’t like it when shit doesn’t make sense. I know myself well enough to admit I’m going to have to figure out what’s going on.
I also know myself well enough to admit I’m more than a little relieved another man didn’t drive Maren to work this morning.