Bond Girl (17 page)

He winked before he returned to his desk and I returned to my work, counting down the minutes until we could leave for the client party, and staring at the gift Will had just given me.

T
he rooftop was rocking by the time I arrived. I grabbed a drink at the bar and made my way outside to find people. I caught sight of Will standing in the corner talking to a hedge fund manager, and he nodded in my direction when I stepped onto the patio. Chick was off talking to Rick, one person I wanted to avoid, but, much to my horror, Chick waved me over. I had no interest in speaking to Rick, in person or via text. I would do a lot of things for Chick—he was my boss, my mentor, and my friend—but I was not about to let him pimp me out to his clients as eye candy or as anything else. I plastered a grossly exaggerated smile on my face and obeyed Chick's order.

“Hey, boss,” I sang happily as Chick fist-bumped me. I turned toward Rick.
Stop texting me, you crazy fucking lunatic.
Or maybe I said politely, “Good to see you, Rick.”

“It's been a while, Alex. You look very nice tonight.” He leered as he gave me elevator eyes.

“Thanks.” I knew I looked good, because I had carefully prepared my party outfit since I knew Will would be there. The fact that my friendly married stalker had noticed the dress, too, was an unwelcome side effect, kind of like when you take aspirin for a headache and end up having to have your spleen removed.

“So how long am I going to have to wait until Alex can cover me, Chick? She can cut her teeth on me a little . . . as long as she doesn't bite.”

“Take it easy there, Rick! She needs more experience before she's ready to cover anyone, let alone you guys. Sorry, buddy, but for the time being you're stuck with me.”

“That's a shame. Brains and a body, the Holy Grail of saleswomen. You can't blame a guy for trying.”

Chick squeezed my shoulder and said in a fatherly manner, “Cool it, Rick. Don't make my girl here uncomfortable.”

Rick placed his hand on my lower back and pulled me toward him. “She can handle it, Chick. Alex isn't shy, from what I can tell.” Chick pulled me back toward him like a chew toy. I was grateful.

“No, she's not. But that doesn't mean it's open season for you,” he said as he wrapped his arm around my back. I slugged down the contents of my glass in two large gulps.

“Fine. I'll lay off. I'm going to go refresh my drink. It was good to see you, Alex. Keep working hard and maybe one day I'll convince Chick to let me have you.”

I wanted to tell him that if he hit on me again I would break his legs, but I had to keep quiet. Sales had a lot to do with knowing what to say and what not to say. Chick handed me another glass of wine.

“Head inside and tell the girls from event planning to close it up and go home. We don't need them here anymore. I sure as hell don't want to be paying for their drinks when they're supposed to be working.” Chick was a generous guy to the people who worked for him, but if you weren't on our team, you had to fend for yourself.

I made my way back to the hallway outside the elevators, and the girls were already packing up their things. I popped into the ladies' room to fix my makeup and my hair. I was getting ready to go talk to Will. That plan was quickly derailed when I discovered Rick leaning against the wall in the hallway, chewing on a toothpick.

“Oh hey, Rick.” I tried to make my way past him, but Rick held his arm straight out in front of me, forcing me to stop or risk having his hand come in direct contact with my chest. I froze: trapped in a small space of hallway between the elevator and the bathroom.

I smiled, despite the urge to punch him in the face. “Are you leaving?”
Please say yes.

“No.”

Damn.

He waved the toothpick in the air like he was conducting some kind of invisible orchestra. “I just wanted to talk to you privately.”

There are two hundred people on this roof. The concept of privacy doesn't exist. Thank God.

“Chick shot me down pretty quickly when I asked if you could cover me. I think he wants to keep you all to himself. Not that I blame him.”

Jesus Christ, what did I do to deserve this
?

“I appreciate the offer.” I was pretty sure Rick needed medication—or a higher dosage, whichever applied.

“Mark my words, one day you'll cover me. I think we'd make a great pair. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the markets—or on me. One or the other.”

You want to hear my thoughts on you? Sure. One day, I promise to give them to you.

He gently smacked my ass, causing my body to burn with disgust. I closed my eyes and tried to will my breathing back to normal. Rick had crossed the line, but just barely. Not enough to complain. After all, guys smacked each other on the ass all the time; so did pro athletes.

I went back outside and roamed the rooftop, chatting happily with people. I introduced myself to some of Drew's clients, the ones I spoke to when he was unavailable. I scanned the crowd for Will and spotted him chatting with Baby Gap in the corner. Swell. I worked my way through the crowd, mingling the way a salesperson should. Chick found me at the bar an hour later talking to a few of the traders and tweaked my nose.

“Sorry about Rick, Alex. Just ignore him; he's a good guy, but for some reason he likes to toy with you. He thinks you're funny, and he likes a girl with spunk. You've got that in spades.”

“Thanks. I think.”

I checked my watch. Ten thirty. Time for me to go. “I think I'm going to head home.”

“Okay. Get home safely.” I scanned the crowd for Will to say good-bye, but I couldn't find him in the sea of guys in khakis. I gave up and began to weave my way toward the elevators when my phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Alex, hi. It's Hannah.”

“Hannah? Aren't you here at the party?”

“Yeah, I'm right behind you.”

“Why the hell are you calling me?” I turned and saw her standing in the middle of the room. She waved. “You're standing twenty feet away.” I said.

“I need you to talk to me for a minute.”

“On the phone?”

“Yes! There's this really cute client, and he's ignoring me. I want him to think that I'm important so he'll talk to me.”

“You're not important.”

“He doesn't know that.”

“I wouldn't bet on that.” I hung up on her and left her chatting to a dead line. Assuming, of course, that she realized that I was no longer there.

I limped out of the hotel, my feet throbbing from standing in heels all night. I was about to hobble west to grab a cab when a window lowered on a town car a few feet from the entrance.

Will leaned out the window and asked, “What took you so long?”

“You make it sound like I knew you were waiting.” I laughed. “I looked for you upstairs. If you told me you were down here, I might have bailed sooner.”

“I snuck out. I didn't want Chick to see us leave anywhere near the same time. I've been down here for about fifteen minutes now. I'm bored.”

“That's because you have the attention span of a gnat. Thanks for waiting. Good idea leaving early but next time maybe you could, you know—and I'm going out on a limb here—tell me you're waiting for me, and you might not get stuck hanging out in a town car for fifteen minutes. Just a thought,” I teased.

“Shut up and get in the car,” he said with a laugh. “You're such a wiseass sometimes, you know that?”

“I thought that was one of the things you liked about me.”

“One of many,” Will said.

I climbed in the back of the car as my legs squeaked against the leather seat. “Now this is what I call courteous door-to-door service.”

“I'm happy to take you home, but actually, I want to make a stop first.”

“Where are we going?”

“I want to show you something. Trust me.”

“The last time you told me to trust you I woke up in your apartment two hours late for work.” He laughed as the car pulled over in front of a loft building in TriBeCa. “Where are we?”

“Come inside.” We rode the elevator to the top floor and then exited a small door. We climbed a flight of stairs and walked onto the empty roof, the balmy air tickling my face as I looked up and saw what I didn't think existed in Manhattan: stars.

We walked to the low wall that lined the perimeter of the roof. “
This
is a skyline.”

We had a perfect view of the entire city. The expanse of Midtown, the Empire State Building, both the Hudson and the East rivers, and the glittering lights of the bridges to the east. Cars inched along northbound in traffic, their taillights forming blinking red snakes of color on the roads like Christmas tree lights before they're wrapped around the tree. I'd never seen something as incredible in my entire life—and that includes the previous month's limbo contest at work.

“How'd you get the keys to get up here?” I gasped as I spun 360 degrees, reveling in the opportunity to be alone in a city that rarely ever gives you the chance.

“A buddy lives in the building. He gave me his keys after work today. When you said you liked skylines, I figured I'd take you to see the view from up here.”

“You're full of surprises today. I feel spoiled.”

Will pulled out a chair from a small table in the corner for me. He pulled another chair next to me and stretched his long legs out in front of him. For a moment we sat in silence, facing north, staring at the lights, the buildings rising like giant stalagmites from the bedrock below. “I like spoiling you. I told you the Gansevoort wasn't that impressive.”

“It's nothing compared to this. It almost makes you forget that the city is actually a total shit show.”

“Almost. You really appreciate the simple things, don't you?”

“I guess. There's so much excess around our business, sometimes it's nice to take a step back and just enjoy. I guess I don't really think that just because something's expensive means it's special. For my money it doesn't really get any more special than this, and this roof is free.”

“Not exactly: my buddy pays out the ass for his apartment.”

I laughed. “Well, free for us!”

“Ain't that the truth. Did you have fun at the party?”

“I got cornered by Rick Kieriakis, and that kind of put a damper on things.”

“He has a way of doing that.”

“He's been hitting on me. Hard. Do you know how he got my phone number? Did you give it to him?” I prayed he would say no.

“Of course not. He calls you? Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this?” he asked, seemingly shocked. Maybe I should have mentioned this sooner, but saying it out loud meant that I could no longer deny it was a problem. And it was. A big one.

“No, he texts me. It's not really an easy thing to bring up in conversation, though maybe if you picked up your phone when I called you, it would have come up.” I bit my lip as soon as the words came out of my mouth. I sounded like one of those insecure girls I hate. The ones who are possessive and needy and whiny.

Will smirked. “Well, you have me here now. So what is going on? When did this start?”

“It started that night at Buddha Bar. I couldn't figure out how he got my number, but if you didn't give it to him, then I guess Chick did.”

“There's no way he'd do that. You know about Rick and Cruella, right?”

“No. What?” I asked, flustered at hearing their names in the same sentence. It was like an axis of evil.

“She and Rick used to hook up when she was single. Rumor has it she liked him a lot, and he totally dicked her over. I don't know the whole story, but apparently he fucked up her head pretty badly.”

“How'd I not know this?” I asked. “I thought I'd heard all the dirt on her.”

“It was before your time, years ago. Reese once said that her Rick saga flipped a switch and morphed her into an angry bitter shrew. There's no way Chick would willingly let him contact you and destroy another female on his team.”

“So you're saying that Rick is responsible for her being so evil?”

“Apparently. I don't think she was always like that, although it's hard to imagine her any other way, isn't it?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it is.” The comment she made to me in the ladies' room that day suddenly registered.
What the hell did he do to her to make her so angry?
And then, an even more disturbing thought:
Now he's turned his attention to me.
I had to change the topic, because I couldn't handle thinking about Rick anymore. He occupied enough of my time—too much—as it was. “What do you think Chick would do if he knew you and I were seeing each other?” I asked as my mind flashed horrifying images of what Chick would do to me if he knew I had blatantly ignored one of his rules. Fuck.

“Probably strap you to the folding chair and lock you in the closet.”

“The sad thing is, I believe that.” I didn't want to get ahead of myself, but worrying about Chick finding out about us was becoming a full-time job, and I already had one of those. I figured it couldn't hurt to ask. “So what happens then?”

“What do you mean?”

“If we keep seeing each other. How does this work? It's odd pretending I hardly know you when we're in the office, but it can't stay like this forever, can it? Not that I think this is forever, I just . . . you know what I mean.”

“I think we just take it one day at a time. For now, why don't we just have fun tonight and worry about the rest of it later?”

“You're right,” I said, even though I didn't agree with him.

“What's up for the weekend?” he asked.

“I was going to ask you that. Are you around?” I figured since I had already fallen into the abyss with my “you don't call me on weekends” complaint, I might as well just suck it up and ask him if he wanted to hang out. We really should be at a point where that wasn't a strange question to ask. Best-case scenario, we could do something on Sunday. Worst-case scenario, I'd kill myself.