DEFENSE (41 page)

“Are you going to put in a good word for me, then?” Dan scoffed. “Roland doesn’t trust anyone. Hasn’t since Mina died.”

I flinched. I was the reason his fiancée was gone and the reason Roland didn’t trust anyone. Dan reminded me of that fact none too gently.

“Roland does what he wants with the company when he wants it,” he was saying. “He doesn’t think he has to answer to anyone, least of all me.”

If I didn’t already know what a monster Dan was, it would’ve been easy to feel sorry for him. For whatever reasons I wasn’t privy to, Roland didn’t trust his own brother. He probably knew Dan better than anyone though; he knew he wasn’t worth a damn.

“This doesn’t have to be unpleasant, you know,” Dan said suddenly, making me pay attention.

I gave him a blank, pointed stare.

“We could just, you know, chat over cocktails,” he continued. “Over dinner, even, just about your day. It doesn’t have to be weird. It doesn’t have to be unpleasant.”

That was the cherry on top of this shit sundae that I just didn’t need.

“You think that me stabbing your brother in the back doesn’t have to be unpleasant?” I asked, incredulous. “Are you hearing yourself? Are you delusional? In what universe would you like to fuck Roland over while sipping on a drink? It’s fucking unpleasant because it’s wrong, you asshole.”

Dan grabbed me by the wrist and pushed me up against the car, getting centimeters from my face, our noses practically brushing.

“You don’t understand just how unpleasant I could make this, if I wanted to,” Dan said, his hot, close breath making me feel like I was going to suffocate. “I want things, Beauty. And if you push back, if you think you can manipulate me to your own devices, then I will take them.”

And then, his lips were on mine, teeth clashing, taking and taking until I shoved against his shoulders, twisting my fist to get out of his grasp, gasping and gagging simultaneously. Just days earlier, I would’ve wanted nothing more than to kiss this man, but now I couldn’t stand to even be close to him.

I blinked back angry, panicked, frightened tears. Of all things, I wasn’t going to let this motherfucker see me cry.

“If that’s what you’re threatening, if you think I’m going to let you fuck me as a part of your twisted little deal, then you can just go ahead and tell Roland everything,” I sobbed out through gritted teeth. “A person can be pushed too far. You think I wouldn’t go back to the funny farm to avoid you? Just fucking try, Dan.”

He held up his hands again, backed away, and gave me space. The air came back into my lungs, and I didn’t feel like vomiting anymore. I was still angry, though, with a weird twist of triumph. I’d stood up to Dan, proving to myself that I wouldn’t just keep rolling over and letting him take advantage of me.

“Stick with our deal, then,” he said, his voice calm, as if he dealt with this kind of anger all the time. I shuddered to remember Roland’s remarks earlier, that Dan had always had trouble with women. How many poor girls before me had been too afraid to tell him no? It chilled me to the bone to consider it.

I was shaking so hard that I could barely stand. “Roland’s been talking to people in Africa and Asia,” I said, hating myself as the words left my mouth. If only I could be a little stronger. If only I could’ve stood up for Roland like I’d stood up for not being forced to have sex with Dan. I had a feeling, though, that Dan was much more interested in getting the piece of Shepard Shipments he thought he deserved than having sex with me, if he was forced to choose.

“Africa and Asia?” Dan scowled. “I knew it. I knew he’d do this to me.”

“What do you mean, do this to you?” I asked, still trembling but confused. “He says it’s the best way to expand the company.”

“You took off your clothes for money, Beauty, what do you know about business?” Dan threw the insult out almost distractedly, frowning. “Who do I know in Africa and Asia? I’ll have to make some calls, maybe a trip…”

Dan across the globe, away from me? Nothing felt better than that possibility, even if I had given up a piece of intelligence from Roland.

“This is the beginning of a beautiful relationship,” Dan said, grinning at me and turning serious again in almost the same breath. “If you try to wriggle out of this, I will fuck you up, do you hear me? You will have sincere regrets.”

I believed him. “Okay.” His moods were so sudden and mercurial that I had fears about his own stability.

“You don’t think this can be pleasant, Beauty, but I’m telling you right now that it doesn’t have to be hard,” he added. “I will meet you here at your car every day after you leave work. You will tell me what you’ve learned, and answer any questions I have to the best of your ability. And that’s the way it’s going to be.”

“Okay.” I was desperate to leave, to get away from him. I’d hit a limit on how long I could face this man, and I was afraid things were going to start devolving if I didn’t get out of there.

Dan walked quickly away, a pep in his step that I had given him, and I sagged against my car, barely able to get the door open before I fell inside, all strength gone from my body, my shoulders heaving, hot tears welling in my eyes.

I had no idea how I was going to be able to get through this. Right now, it seemed like it was going to be impossible.

My time at work took on a strange balance. The balance was always precarious, always in danger of falling down and taking me with it, but I struggled to maintain it. It was my responsibility to somehow get myself through this situation while protecting Roland from the knowledge that I was colluding with his brother to undermine his control of the company.

That’s what Dan wanted, after all. Control over something he didn’t quite have a grasp on. Or at least that’s what I got from our daily debriefings by my car.

That was the worst part of the day, by far. I could never gauge what kind of mood he would be in. Sometimes, he was practically friendly. Other times, he paced around, obviously agitated about something I could only guess at. The moment Dan left me after our little meetings were the best part of the day because I knew I wouldn’t have to have contact with him for a whole twenty-four hours. He rarely called or texted me, never showed up at my apartment, but always expected me to meet him at the parking lot at the designated time.

Of course, that presented a problem one late afternoon when Roland called me into his office.

“I’m having a call with Mason Nchia later this evening,” he said, looking a little perturbed at his computer screen. I was just as perturbed; it was almost time for me to leave the office for today, and I was sure Dan was waiting for me already at my car. I didn’t want to provoke him by keeping him waiting, allowing the thought to slip into his mind that I might try to be reneging on our deal. I had no idea what he’d do to pay me back for any imagined slight.

“Your contact in Nigeria,” I said unhelpfully. “Are you getting closer on sealing the deal?”

This was something that I’d need to report to Dan, but I was discovering there were other things I could keep from him. As long as I fed him one reliable piece of information a day, enough to whet his appetite on whatever he tended to use my intel for, he usually didn’t ask for more. It was really his loss; I could’ve been a fount of information if he just leaned on me a little more heavily and asked a few more questions.

“I don’t like the tone of his email,” Roland said. “Would you be available to take notes during the phone call tonight?”

I cringed, thinking about missing the meeting with Dan, and Roland took immediate notice.

“You have something you need to do,” he said. “No, don’t worry about it. I don’t want to take up your time when you could be outside of the office, actually having some fun.”

“No, it’s not that,” I said quickly. “I just had a quick errand that I had to run before…before the pharmacy closed for the evening. That was the only thing I was thinking of. Is it okay if I go and do that and then come right back to the office?”

Roland’s face softened. “Of course it’s okay,” he said. “You always say I’m the boss, but you can always tell me no. I understand that you have a life.”

True, I had a whole double life that I was extremely keen on him not ever knowing about. But my real life—the best moments of it, at least—were times like these, when I could forget about all the bad things I was doing and focus on the good. Roland was interested in my opinion about business matters. I was stretching my brain, trying to analyze meetings and messages as best I could, and he was constantly praising me, saying how impressed he was with my interpretations of what was going on.

It felt good to be around Roland. When I could forget for a little while about everything else, I loved to watch him as he talked about anything in the world. He could be talking about an analysis I’d written up or a story he found interesting in the paper or about the coming expansion of Shepard Shipments across the world. When he was passionate about something, the way his face lit up was completely inspiring. It made me think that anything was possible if I just cared enough about it, and that even I could make a difference if I put my mind fully to it.

I could make a difference in anything except the course of my own life.

It wasn’t fair that I felt so at ease when I was with Roland. And it definitely wasn’t fair whenever I thought back on that night when he’d admitted to having feelings for me. We hadn’t discussed it further beyond him asking if I was okay with his admission after I’d missed work, but I found myself wondering if those feelings for me were still present…or even if they’d grown with time.

I would’ve been lying to myself if I’d said that I didn’t have the same feelings for him still.

I admired the fact that Roland hadn’t immediately tried to court me after I told him Dan and I were no longer an item. It was respectful of him, I thought, and it only made my affection for him grow. I enjoyed being around him, enjoyed listening to him and learning from him, and felt utterly conflicted about it because I was betraying his trust so completely.

There was always that, as much as I tried to turn away from it. I couldn’t deny the feelings I had for Roland; I couldn’t deny that every day I grew to even love his scar more and more; and that my self-loathing grew exponentially. I omitted everything I could in my reports to Dan as tiny acts of love, actions I could actually take in order to try to protect Roland.

And it would never be enough. The truth was too fucked up and too painful for me to ever believe that Roland and I could be happy together. There just wasn’t any point of wishing for it or dreaming about it, and still my traitorous heart did.

I always felt like a bundle of twisted, shitty little nerves. Another point of penance for myself. I loved Roland, but I was betraying him. I hated Dan, but I was working for him. And I didn’t deserve anything else but to be in this purgatory for what I’d caused on that night on that Texas road.

“Beauty?”

Roland was staring at me, amused.

“Sorry!” I yelped, having no idea just how long I’d been standing there, thinking about how much I liked Roland and how much I loathed the rest of my life.

“You were deep in thought,” he observed.

“I think my blood sugar’s just low,” I laughed, uneasy and backing away. I hated to think about how long Dan had probably been waiting by my car. “I’d better get a juice or something before I come back.”

“Take your time and do whatever you need to do,” Roland said. “Dinner’s on me tonight. Are you in the mood for anything?”

I shook my head, continuing to edge toward the door. “I’ll have whatever you’re having. I trust you.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, looking oddly pleased as I practically ran out of the door.

That was the worst thing of all; I really did trust him. I trusted Roland in his capacity as a businessman, I trusted his character as an actual man, and I even trusted his taste in food. I trusted him in all aspects of life, and he should’ve known better than to trust me with anything.

I was out of breath when I got to my car, and Dan was visibly seething.

“I’m sorry!” I said, trying to head off the glowering before it got out of hand. “I got held up. I came as quickly as I could.”

“Me standing around isn’t part of the deal, Beauty,” he warned.

“I know it isn’t,” I said as earnestly as I could manage, “and I’m sorry. Roland called me into his office right as I was about to leave. That’s what I’m here to tell you about. Roland’s going to be talking to his contact in Africa this evening.” Throw Roland under the bus to try and save my own skin. How could I even live with myself?

For whatever reason, this piece of information I’d fed him made Dan preen.

“Excellent,” he said. “That’s excellent news. I’m sure he wasn’t happy about it.”

That was odd. Roland hadn’t been very happy about it.

“He didn’t like the tone of the email,” I elaborated reluctantly. I tried not to give more detailed answers, attempting to keep it simple so Dan wouldn’t get so greedy.

“I’ll bet he didn’t,” Dan said. “Well, Beauty, thanks for the pick me up. If you’re going to be late next time, just text and I won’t be so pissed. I don’t like feeling like I’ve been left hanging. It makes me think you might be having second thoughts about things.”

Second thoughts? I was already on hundredth thoughts. I was just too selfish, too stupidly obsessed with self-preservation to do the right thing. I was a coward.

“I’ll do that,” I said, even though I hadn’t been in a position where I could text him earlier.

“Can I treat you to a drink?” he asked. “Really, the fact that my brother’s talking to Mason Nchia tonight is great news. I’m very pleased, and a celebration is in order.”

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head, then, “thank you,” as an afterthought. I didn’t want to incite Dan’s rage any more than I already had today.

“Don’t you think you owe me a little extra time since you were late?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

This was a dangerous path to tread. “I’ll remind you that socializing isn’t a part of our deal,” I said, trying to choose my words carefully.

“And I’ll remind you that this doesn’t have to be unpleasant,” Dan said. “Can’t I reward my little spy for bringing me good information?”

I wanted to vomit. It was obvious to me that Dan had pulled something off to piss Mason Nchia off, and Roland was going to bear the brunt of it. Was there a way to try and head this off tonight during the phone call? I was going to try and erase some of the damage I’d done.

“Our agreement is purely professional,” I said. “Don’t mix work and play, Dan. Nothing good ever comes of it.”

“I think you and I are pretty good together,” he said, looping an arm around my waist.

Every muscle in my body went stiff, and the panic I was becoming all too familiar with rose in my throat. It was distasteful to see Dan every day, but it was unbearable to feel his touch, searing me even through my clothes. It struck me that I wouldn’t be able to wear this outfit again without feeling his touch through the fabric. I’d probably have to burn it.

“Remember what I told you,” I hissed, trying to move out of his grasp. “Our agreement will be null if you insist on pursuing it this way.” It was the nicest way I could think of telling him not to fucking touch me.

“And remember what I told you,” he said, keeping a hold of me roughly, not allowing me to break free of him. “If I think your devotion is waning, there will be consequences you won’t enjoy.”

We scuffled for several moments more, my heart pounding, before he let go of me. I gave him a nasty stare before getting in my car and driving off, trying to control my breathing, eager to get out of range of him, and finally allowing myself to smile as I got around the block.

I’d gotten through the intelligence session without giving up the fact that I would be attending Roland’s call tonight with Mason Nchia. It was a small victory, but a significant one. I hadn’t caved in to Dan’s physical threats, and I’d protected a portion of Roland’s privacy.

I circled around the block and saw, with great relief, that Dan had vacated the premises of the parking lot. I pulled in, parked my car, and made my way back to the building reasonably pleased with myself. I wouldn’t have to contend with Dan for another twenty-four hours, and now I got to spend extra time with Roland. It was the closest I’d been to happy for a long time.

By the time I made it up to the office, all of my coworkers had cleared out and there was some delicious aroma wafting through the air. I followed my nose all the way to Roland’s office.

“That didn’t take long,” he remarked, pouring a glass of ice water beside two covered plates on one of the low tables next to the leather chairs and couch.

“No, no it didn’t,” I said absently. “Neither did dinner, apparently. I could smell it almost immediately after getting out of the elevator. Where’d you order it from?”

“Actually, I thought I’d keep it in house this time,” he said lightly, filling the other glass with water.

“In house?” I repeated. “You mean you have a chef on staff?”

“I mean that I cooked it,” he said, lighting a pair of candles with a match before blowing it out.

“I didn’t know that you cooked,” I exclaimed, walking over to examine the spread.

“I don’t think it ever came up in casual conversation.” We rarely had casual conversation, so no surprise there.

“Well, what’s on the menu?” I asked, sitting where he indicated I should do so.

“See for yourself.” With a flourish, Roland took the cover off of my plate and the delicious smell of well-prepared food hit me full force. It was a steak swimming in its own juices, paired with fragrant, long green beans and a fluffy pile of couscous dotted with pieces of grape tomatoes. My mouth watered and I wanted nothing more than to dig right in.

“This is amazing,” I said, gaping, as Roland took his own seat and removed the cover to his matching dinner. “Where did you learn how to do this?”

“I’ve picked up a couple of surprising hobbies over the years,” he said, smiling at me. “I wish we could have a glass of wine with this; I know one that would work particularly well with steak, but I’d prefer we had our wits about us when I speak with Mason.”

I seemed to recall another time when I’d imbibed in very expensive bourbon with Roland, so it was something of a relief to only have access to water with our meal.

“Well, don’t just sit there,” he admonished, placing his napkin into his lap. “It’s going to get cold, and then you aren’t going to think I did a good job.”