Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Do you do any of that?” he asked quietly.
“I paint and draw.”
“Are you any good?”
“Not good enough to make a living, but good enough to do it,” I responded. “I specialized in art history. I wanted to get hired at a museum or a gallery. Learn. Become a curator. Discover new artists. Show the world the old masters. But it takes time and connections. Right now, I would be happy to be a volunteer and get my foot in the door. And I have to do my master’s, which is more schooling.”
“And you bartend? Do you enjoy it?”
“Not really. But it pays well, the hours are steady, and I’m behind the bar. I tried waitressing—not my thing. It’s only two nights a week, but it brings in a good income.”
“Rough crowd there?”
“On occasion. But we’re pretty small, so it’s mostly regulars. Sometimes if an event is in town, we’re close enough to the main drag to get the overflow and it can get out of hand, but we have security at the door.”
He studied me, then leaned forward. “If you’re ever worried or fearful, you call me. All right, Tally? It doesn’t matter what time it is. Promise me.”
“Call you?” I repeated. “For what?”
“I’ll come and get you. Take you anywhere you need to be. Make sure you’re safe.”
His statement left me stunned. He was serious.
Make sure you’re safe. He had no idea what that meant to me.
Unbidden, tears sprang to my eyes, and I had to get out of there before he saw how emotional his words made me.
“Thanks, Julian. I’ll remember that.” I stood. “And thanks for the pizza. I appreciate it.”
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Back to work,” I said brightly. “I’ve slacked off enough, and I want to finish a couple more additions to the schedule before I go.”
“Tally—”
I cut him off.
“Make sure to tidy your desk before you leave, or I’ll think about it all weekend,” I teased, not wanting him to push the subject.
He took the hint the way I had done earlier.
“Okay. I’ll line it all up before I go.”
I felt his stare all the way back to my desk, even with his door closed.
I sat down heavily. I hadn’t expected to feel this allure to my boss. To hear those words from his lips and want to throw my arms around his neck and let him hold me. To tell him how safe I felt just being in the same office as he was. I hadn’t planned on the desire that hummed through my veins every time he was close. I couldn’t let him get close.
I couldn’t put him in danger. I already cared too much.
JULIAN
I looked forward to Monday morning far too much. Even though Tally wasn’t supposed to start until ten, I knew she would be at her desk before nine. Often, I was in my secret office, watching as she came in, settling at her desk, making coffee, checking voice mail, and getting ready for the day. I enjoyed the chance to study her, watching the way her brow furrowed as she scribbled messages or reread something on her laptop. Today, she wore her hair down, the curls cascading over her shoulders, the color bright under the lights. It sometimes appeared to annoy her, but I loved the curls and often had to refrain from touching them if she was close.
It occurred to me that the weekends seemed endless now. The office dimmed a little when she left, and I found myself thinking of her a lot. I knew I needed to stop. Stop thinking, stop watching, stop finding excuses to go to her desk or call her into my office so I could be close to her. To hear her voice, be rewarded with one of her rare smiles.
The more I studied her, the more I realized that there was always something lurking behind her eyes—something profoundly sad, something that called to me. Yet I had no idea what it was or why she affected me the way she did. There was also a lingering feeling of fear she tried to cover. I sensed it in her the first day she came into the office, and it often manifested itself without her realizing. She shrank a little when a new face appeared, a sudden noise made her jump, she seemed to linger when it was time to leave. Even though no one would come into the office without her knowing, she locked the door when I left, only disengaging it when she expected me back. Something, someone, had placed that fear inside her.
I wanted to erase that residual sadness and eradicate her fear. But it wasn’t my place.
I watched her for a few more moments, then turned my head and rubbed my eyes. I was becoming a stalker, observing and watching her constantly. I needed to stop my behavior. I stood, grimacing a little. The mission I had been part of on the weekend had been taxing. I had taken a few well-aimed punches to the ribs before I was able to subdue the man I had been chasing. Once we had extracted the information we needed, my bullet paid him back for the pain. I took great delight in destroying the child porn ring he had been part of. None of the group saw dawn, and their filth was wiped out. We found several promising leads to other groups, and Damien had been busy with the intel. By tonight, many of them would be up in flames. By tomorrow, all of them gone.