The Temp (10 page)

21

Day 5-Friday-The Office

“I can’t make you permanent,” Roman said.

“Why not?” Eve said. “Am I not doing a good job?”

“It’s not that and you know it.”

“Then what is it?” she wanted him to say it, at least admit why, out loud.

Roman held up a newspaper, he placed the paper down on the desk. “This.”

Her eyes skimmed across the front page. “Oh,” her breath left her in a whoosh. She took the paper, “it was only five minutes, how did they-” She was staring at a picture of her and Roman sitting together on the bench in the park.

The headline read;
BILLIONAIRE’S NEW LOVE?

“They can’t jump to any conclusions if we sat on the same bench,” she said. Her face flustered, why was she fighting it? Wasn’t this what she’d always wanted? Her and Roman and
oh
how they looked so cute together.

“The story continues, turn over to page 11,” Roman said.

Eve flicked through the paper and found the next photo. It was of them walking through the park hand in hand.

“A picture is worth a thousand words,” her words died away. “You read this newspaper?”

“It’s a celebrity gossip paper, so no.”

“But you’ve been in it a few times.”

His brow shot up, “you read this paper?”

“I don’t have to. I’ve seen pictures of you on the web.” Eve turned away as if she were admitting to her interest in him. She didn’t want to mention those pictures she’d seen had him with other women. Billionaire. Businessman. Playboy. He’d been playing this game a long time.

Roman was staring straight at her as he leaned in.

“Be mine.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve seen the other photos, the other women. I told you it’s not an option.”

“The other women are the past. You haven’t told me why you won’t be with me.”

Eve turned away from his desk lowering the newspaper.

Roman got up and moved around to where she stood, his footfalls gently coming up behind her. “Why do you resist me?” he sat against the desk.

“Maybe I’m trying to protect myself.”

“You think I’m bad for you.”

“Not necessarily,” Eve shrugged, averting her stare.  

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Everybody has secrets.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“You’re persisting.”

“I want you Eve,” he said. His words melted her bones like butter. Eve sunk into the chair opposite him.

“You have an appointment due in a few minutes.”

“Stop resisting me.”

“Are you eating out today or shall I order in?”

“I think you like this. You saying no, me saying yes.”

Eve blinked. “It’s nice to feel wanted.”

“Nice,” Roman lingered on the word. “You’re not giving me anything here, Eve.”

The phone rung on her desk, telling her to move on and also that she hadn’t closed the door properly; someone could have heard their conversation.

“I should go,” Eve whispered.

“Don’t.”

Eve bit her lip. “If that’s all, Mr Pierce, I’m sure that’s your eleven o’clock.”

“Wait.” She stopped. “In case you change your mind,” he pulled out a card from his pocket and handed it to her with his name and address on the back.

Eve studied the card. “You live in a hotel?”

“I own a hotel and live in it. My private line is on that card.”

“Oh,” she couldn’t breathe nor think. She had to go, standing here evading him was too awkward for words. Eve left moments later, her heart beating out of its chest, her head swimming. The card burned against her fingers. She shouldn’t be contemplating Roman Pierce. He was mesmerising and off limits, she was trying to protect him, wasn’t she? And herself.

Eve busied herself with work for the next few hours. She didn’t want to think about the possibility of Roman Pierce in her bed or the card burning a whole in her blazer pocket. It would only give her so many more questions.

When finally Eve glanced up again it was seven o’clock.

How had she worked all the way passed lunch? Had Roman even left the room? She turned round and met his gaze full on.

It was Friday night, what was he doing here at this hour?

“Evee dearest, did you want to join us tonight?” Celeste sauntered passed. Celeste’s attention shot to the glass office and she turned away with a frown. Eve turned back to Roman who was busy typing away at his laptop. “Oh well, if you have better things to do”-Celeste started walking away.

“No, I’m coming,” Eve shot up from the desk. 

“Good, see you in a few minutes.”

Eve grabbed her bag and blazer. She hated Celeste more by the minute almost as much as Angelica. On the other hand, she hadn’t wanted to do this alone. She needed to, for the sake of her dignity. This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for.

She walked on unsteady feet into Roman Pierce’s office.

“This is it,” Eve blinked at the ground. “I’m off.” Sweat beaded her forehead, prickling her neck.

“You’re returning to Trigger’s office?”

“I guess so,” Eve kept her attention to the floor, hugging her blazer to her.

“Maybe I’ll see you on Monday,” his words shot to her like rejection.

“Maybe.” Eve couldn’t remember leaving the office, only that she was down in the lobby the next moment and heading towards a club with a bunch of work women. She wasn’t aware of anything anymore.

Not the first glass of wine.

Not the second.

Not the shots.

The only thing she could recall was rejection.

*

Roman’s phone buzzed at midnight. The screen lit up and her name blinked back at him. He rubbed his eyes; he’d closed them momentarily while he sat on the lounge in the office. Eve had left. He’d watched her go; he should’ve stopped her, said something, anything. He didn’t know what had changed his mind.

Eve was hot one minute, cold the next. He couldn’t be sure if she really wanted him, not after what had happened in the restaurant, her silence had buried itself deep within him. He stared at the package on his desk. He should’ve given it to her. He should have been out to dinner with some friends but he’d cancelled at last minute. He wasn’t one to cancel anything, so it had surprised him as much as his friends.

He picked up the phone. “Eve. You changed your mind.”

“Where do you get off Rome?” her words slurred and loud music blared in the background.

“Have you been drinking?” his jaw tensed, gripping his temple. 

“What’s it to you?”

Roman sat up. “Eve, where are you?”

“Like you care, all you want is to get in my pants.”

“Eve I care, tell me where you are,” his voice was hard.

“What does it matter?”

“Are you alright?” there was an underlying edge he didn’t recognise.

“Why do you care?” she snapped.

“I care Eve, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m fine. I’m with Celeste and Snake bitch.”

“Stay there I’m coming to get you.” Roman got up and grabbed his car keys, slamming the front door and pressing the elevator button seconds later. The blaring of the music over the phone suddenly stopped.

“Eve?”

Silence.

The phone had dropped out.

P
ART
III

Protecting what’s yours

22

Panic hit first.
Eve sat up against the stark light. Her stomach flipped like a pancake, she fell back and rolled over as the headache invaded her.
Oh god,
where was she? She couldn’t think against the brightness, the pounding inside her skull.
Think.
Light played overzealous boring through her like x-rays. She couldn’t remember the last time or any time she’d been like this. 

Her hands pressed to her head in an effort to dull the thudding pain. Eve groaned against the pillow, her breathing laboured, her stomach fighting a wayward battle with whatever was lingering inside it.

What had happened last night? What did she remember?

She squinted back turning over, the only way she could confirm where she was, was to look, observe and remember, none of which seemed pleasant. The drapes dappled in harsh light. She reeled back, shielding her view. Everything was too bright and too light, compounding on her body. If this were heaven, she hadn’t deserved to end up here.

Recognition didn’t hit at first.

With gradual ease, colours filtered in behind the greys and whites. The walls were a dainty lilac, the spur of the moment on sale colour at the hardware store. The chest of drawers was a rare find from a charity shop. The threadbare blankets were a hand-me-down and rare reminder of her mother, one of the only reminders left.

This was her place. Eve squinted back bringing her room in and out of focus, wishing the answer would present itself soon enough. How did she get here?

She tried to recall what had happened last night…it was a blank, a high pitched white blank of neon lights and a blaring base.

She rolled over. She was in her panties and bra. Panic flared in as Eve touched herself. How did she get this naked? Draped over the armchair were her clothes, her grey pencil skirt and her cream blouse. Her heart escalated into her mouth. What indeed had happened? The clues were only getting worse. The fragments of last night refused to come together no matter how hard she willed them. So like all sensible women, Eve was thinking the absolute worst.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
She rolled over to her other side and came face to face with him.
Oh my god.
Her hand flew to her mouth, her stomach fluttered.

He was naked. Completely, except a pair of slate coloured boxers hugging his hipbones. His skin was olive and smooth rippling into stomach muscles and biceps. There was a lot of him to take in.
Him.
How? She swallowed back, for the first time she could stare unabashedly without the fear of getting caught.
Oh
how his face was softly angled and strong, his lashes long and dark.

Eve reached out and stopped. This was Roman, the world’s most eligible and hard to come by bachelor and here he was naked and asleep in her bed.

Had they had sex last night? Alarm bells should have been ringing, seeing him there so
without,
so vulnerable. She couldn’t bring herself to think the worst even if she should. She turned onto her side, her body at an angle to his, her elbow up.

His lips were pink and parted. He was peaceful, dead to the world, his chest and stomach gradually rising and dipping in the soft contours of sleep. He was an angel with clipped wings.
Clipped wings.
Her stomach fluttered again. Those full lips, how wonderful they might be, to kiss them without a second’s thought. It would be like sleeping beauty. She would kiss his lashes, his lips and wake him from his hundred year sleep. And he would love her at first sight and they would live happy ever after-

Her fingers reached out in utter need.

His eyes opened before they made contact, sparkling dark pools fixed on her. “Good morning.” 

Eve snatched her hand back, caught in the act. “Is it? I have the world’s biggest headache,” she rolled onto her back as if almost touching him had never happened. She let out a world of sighs.

“I have the world’s most beautiful woman in bed.”

Eve rotated her body to her bedside table. “Ruined it.”

She wasn’t the world’s most beautiful woman or even in those leagues and yet her stomach jerked.

He caught her wrist pulling her back towards him, his chest pressing into hers. “Did you ever think you ruin it by waking up from this fantasy?” his gaze held hers and she wanted to speak, to say something, anything. Her lips parted.

Roman’s eyes sparked amber in the beaming light. The heavens suited him. He would never get kicked out no matter what he did. Or who he did it to.

“Aren’t you holding yourself to a high standard? I mean, what makes you think this is my fantasy or any woman’s fantasy?” it was like lying through her teeth. He was her fantasy, every part of him. Admitting it meant admitting she liked these games they played, maybe she didn’t, maybe she did.

“You called me last night,” he still held her wrist and warmth flowed through their connection. Her skin pinked before him.
Oh my god
, her eyes widened. She had, hadn’t she? Slowly those fragments of last night came back to haunt her. 

“I called many people.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You called Trigger,” his jaw set, those same eyes became hard and distant.

Eve swallowed her cotton mouth. “I did?”

“He showed up at the club, it was a tug of war over who would take you home. I won.” He watched her reaction. “Am I to believe he’s the mystery guy?” the way he said it had her wondering how long he’d believed there was someone else. There wasn’t anyone else, least of all Trigger.

“Trigger?” her cheeks tinted as she turned away. Eve rolled over this time and placed her hands on the edge of the bed. “There’s nothing between me and Trigger,” she shut her eyes hating the lie as it hissed out of her teeth.
Nothing. Something.

There was an indefinable thing between her and Trigger, a truth, a common goal, a blackmail. She could confide in him at times and at others hate him as if he
were
the blackmailer himself, as if he were responsible for everything bad happening in her life. It wasn’t that alone. As much as she wanted to deny it, there was an attraction towards him for whatever unfathomable reason that Eve prayed was something akin to Stockholm syndrome. They were in the same boat. He was the only one she could come to about her real problems. Stockholm syndrome, if only it could be explained away like that. A confidence had grown between them. It was the only reminder in the middle of the night she wasn’t alone.

She had Trigger no matter how twisted that might be.

“I was drunk. I called whoever had annoyed me,” Eve placed her fingers to her temples and rubbed, rolling back and forth, spurring the blood to flow.

“And Trigger”-Roman’s breath was in her ear tickling her bare flesh.

“Is my old boss, how can he not annoy me?”

“And me?”

She let out a dry laugh. “How can you not annoy me?”

“Annoy you,” he mused. “Is that what we’re calling it?” He rested behind her, his body millimetres from touching her skin, his warmth calling her to fall back and close the gap. Eve blinked back the migraine, an icicle forming in the back of her head.

He rose up behind her. “Why were you drinking last night Eve?”

“Don’t,” she snapped fighting her roiling stomach, “say my name like that.” She pressed a hand to her temple again.

“Like what?” he whispered in her ear, his breath caressing her neck.

She wanted badly to arch against his body and his distance, his near distance was a trick, on purpose, he was willing her to do exactly that. “Stop.”

“We’re not at the office; you don’t work for me anymore, Eve. There are fewer obstacles.”

“Stop. I work in your company. It’s bad enough.”

“I remember, I was the boss, still am.”

“I work for Trigger and for your company. I’m only one floor under you.”

“I like you under me,” Eve’s back melted a margin.
Oh
how easy this could all be, how easy if she gave in to him. Maybe she should. Maybe-“You don’t have to work for my company. I can change it.”

“Great, thanks. That’s a great way to start the day, me getting fired because my position is cock blocking you,” Eve shuffled forward, only inches, the magnetic pull still too strong for her to get away all together.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“That word.”

Eve scrunched her eyes. The headache didn’t feel as pertinent as it had a moment ago. Her mind was doing everything in slow motion this morning, if it was morning. She considered the consequences of getting fired by Roman Pierce. He was the head of the company, what he said couldn’t be worked around or unsaid. If he fired her it would be permanent and no matter how hard Trigger tried it would be Roman’s last word. No turning back. At least she wouldn’t be their tool anymore. She could cut her losses.

His hands come round her waist pulling her back to the present and her head fell back and suddenly his lips kissed the nape of her neck. A hand trailed down parting her breasts, sending goose bumps all the way to her nipples.

She wanted to be free.

And Roman could do it for her.

“Wait,” she breathed. Her head spun. Her will wasn’t strong enough to stop him. “Wait,” she said again, this time more forceful. She pushed off the bed. “What if I really do want you, what then?” her fingers trembled at her sides, the distance between them was so close and yet a mile away, she could hardly bring herself to look at him as she admitted it. She wanted him.

Roman rose up and sat back on his knees. His stomach muscles crunched and rippled. Eve’s gaze pulled in and she forced herself to look away again.

“What are you saying?”

“What are you saying?” she countered.

“I want you, Eve. I think you’ve known it for a while.”

“I think I know in which capacity.” He answered her with a sardonic smile. “I wouldn’t be able to work for your company anymore.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Eve folded her arms.

“Of course I’d make sure you received a glowing reference and I can set you up with another job at another firm as soon as you’d like.” Her mouth straightened.

“That’s not what I’m after.”
Men.
For a man so capable of making her body jerk to his will he sure didn’t know what it truly was Eve wanted from him.

“What would you like?” he watched her with calculating eyes, a hint of his business self returned, the man who could rule the world.

“I don’t know,” this time Eve felt confessional. She didn’t know what she truly wanted. Or at least, she wished he could decipher it. If only he could read her mind.

She wanted…to get out, to stop the blackmail, to have Roman. All of those possibilities conflicted with each other. There was no happy ending no matter how much she idled on it. She threw up her hands, “I can’t think with you naked.” His eyes crinkled and he let out a laugh. “I need breakfast,” she braced her hands to her head, “and Advil.”

“Let’s go out.”

“No, I want the comfort of my own home. I can relax here. I’m making eggs.”

His gaze turned to a smoky fire. “No woman has ever made breakfast for me.”

Eve’s eyebrows shot up. “No one?”
that’s a little sad,
she wanted to add and refrained from doing so. “Well, I’m not any woman and at least I can cook.”

“At least I don’t have to make myself decent,” he mused and crawled towards her on the bed. Roman Pierce was crawling towards her! The dark angel wanted her!

She put out her hand.

“You will if you want me to think straight.”

“I don’t.”