Sommer Marsden - Lost in You

But you’re only looking at it to give an opinion …

I bit my tongue to keep from saying what was in my head. ‘Mr Voorhees, I assure you that it is safe here now. The wind is a bit high and –’ As I pleaded with him, Mother Nature made a liar out of me by dumping what appeared to be a solid sheet of rain against the skylights over my head.

Fabulous .

‘Ms Brite,’ he said, enunciating each word. He was talking to me as if I were mentally compromised. Which made me want to reach through the ancient landline phone and choke his skinny little neck. ‘I cannot come today. I am sorry. I will be happy to come on a day when my life will not be at stake simply driving down the street.’

‘But I –’ I was sputtering, my voice pleading, and it infuriated me. My body grew tenser and my heart started to pound. I had sent everyone home. I was here alone waiting … waiting!

‘Ms Brite,’ he said again. ‘This is not up for discussion. Call me when this thing passes and we’ll discuss my consultation.’

‘I –’

He’d already hung up.

‘Well!’ I huffed at the silent phone. ‘Thank you , Voorhees. Thank you for fucking up my whole day! For making me send my wonderful crew home because you are so special … and, and … so fragile that you need to work utterly alone even in a place the size of the Baltimore zoo! You … you … asshole .’ I hissed the last word. I took after my mother: you did not need to worry if I yelled. You needed to worry if my voice got softer. The angrier I became, the softer was my voice, until it was almost just a hiss.

‘You told him ,’ said a voice.

I jumped and let out some kind of bizarre war whoop and promptly threw my dormant cellphone at the stranger. I turned to run, my flight response having fully kicked in while facing a man who should not be here. A man I did not know.

I had made three skittering steps across the damp, dark tiled floor when he laughed. ‘I’ve never had an employee greet me quite that way before. Good to meet you, Clover. I’m Dorian Martin.’

I turned then, forcing myself to be calm. I took him in. Tall, broad, dark-dark hair worn just a touch too long and eyes as green as pine trees in summer.

Shit.

‘Oh, God, I …’ I what? Had lost my ever-loving mind? I reached for him, both hands raised as if to smooth his rugged, manly fisherman’s sweater. Really? He had to wear that ? He couldn’t have gone for a suit or a button-down shirt? Damn near anything but the one piece of clothing I found irresistible on a man?

I put my hands down. I had already thrown my phone at my boss. I was certainly not going to touch him uninvited.

Something in the way he smiled at me made me wonder if maybe, eventually, I would be invited to touch him. I shook it off. Clearly my nerves and the weather had gotten the better of me.

I stuck out my hand like a lunatic and grinned. ‘Clover Brite, and I am so very, very sorry I just threw my phone at you, Mr Martin.’ I cleared my throat as he studied me, feeling suddenly deflated.

Then he took my hand in his bigger, warmer one and shook it. That deflated feeling fled, pushed out by an entirely new feeling. One that had me uncomfortable but, oddly, enjoying the sensation.

‘I know,’ he said. He shook once more and squeezed my hand and, as he pulled away, his finger trailed briefly across my palm. My stomach tumbled in on itself as heat flooded my body. My face, my chest and lower. Much lower. ‘We’ve never met but I came looking for you.’

I remembered the sound of the automatic doors that I’d chalked up to the wind. That had been him entering. And listening to me have my little rant at Voorhees. Ugh. No one had told me Dorian Martin, my big boss man, the man who now owned the Rotunda, was coming today. Of course today. Why not? Nothing like an unheard-of freak super-storm to set the tone.

‘You did?’ I whispered it. I had no idea why. It seemed to amuse him, though, because he smiled at me and went from handsome to devastating.

I bit my tongue to keep my focus. My focus being at that moment hoping Dorian Martin could not see me biting my own tongue.

‘I was. You were hired by my assistant Bradley, but I wanted us to meet. Since you’ve been doing such a nice job.’ As he spoke his eyes tracked over me. It didn’t feel dirty to me, though part of me sort of wanted it to be. What it felt like was how a man like this judged the person he was talking to. He was studying me to see if what he’d heard matched up with what he saw.

I threw my shoulders back to try and steel myself and that made him smile again. His smile was dangerous – at least to the likes of me. I’d heard of instant attraction, but in twenty-three years I’d never encountered it. I was too busy, too sceptical, too … jaded?

‘I am?’ I cocked my head, caught myself. My job was to exude confidence. To my workers, to Voorhees, that traitorous glass man, and yes, even to the main man himself. ‘I mean, thank you. But this day has not turned out well.’

‘I overheard your conversation.’ He reached out his hand again and I blinked at him, momentarily bewildered, then I noticed he was offering me my phone. Or, in the case of our meeting, the projectile I’d hurled at him.

‘I’m really sorry. This day is very much a bust. Even though the weather would have nothing to do with that … man ,’ I hissed, my anger returning, ‘coming here to look at the dome. I mean, it’s not as if we were asking him to scale outdoor scaffolding. All he had to do was look and maybe walk his way up the spiral ramp to the upper level but the weather –’

‘Is terribly nasty,’ Dorian said. His voice was soft and his eyes kind.

Now I felt like a heel.

‘I guess I sound pretty callous, then?’ Wind rocked the automatic doors, making them groan. I jumped and he put a hand on my arm. Heat flooded the skin around that hand. It coursed up into my shoulders and my face and I did my best to ignore it.

‘No. Just like a woman who likes to get stuff done. And seeing as you’re handling one of my projects, I very much appreciate that.’

Whew.

‘Thank you, Mr –’

‘Dorian,’ he said. His eyes really were the wildest colour green.

I looked at my feet as if that could distract me. ‘Dorian, right. I really think if no one’s coming we should go ahead and leave. I’d hate for you to get stuck here. It’s not even close to being done.’

A rush of sirens outside caused us both to glance up. ‘I think you’re right, Clover. Can I walk you out?’

‘I need to walk through first,’ I said. ‘Make sure everything’s off. Shut. Locked.’

‘I’ll walk with you.’

‘I can’t ask you to do that,’ I said, turning to head down the main corridor.

‘You didn’t ask me to. Let’s call it boss man’s prerogative,’ he said. Then he chuckled.

‘What’s so funny?’ I wanted to really bite my tongue then. What had caused me to be so cavalier with him? It was none of my business why he was laughing. He had a reputation of being a reformed bad boy, an all-round good guy and a down-to-earth rich kid, but my words had been entirely too familiar.

‘I hate being called the boss man and here I use it as a ruse to take a walk in the dark with a pretty girl.’

‘Oh,’ I said. It was more a puff of air than a spoken word. As we walked, I noticed I felt more than a little lightheaded and, every time he strayed near to me, I had the bizarre urge to reach out and take his hand.

‘Why are you here?’ I asked, unable to squash my curiosity. Surely it wasn’t really to do with me. We passed the two longest sections of mall that branched off from the main entrance. They were dark and partly sheathed in plastic and often, when I was alone, brought to mind those horrible slasher movies. I shook the thought off, but caught him looking at me.