Hers (10 page)

He leaves, and I pick up my cell phone, finally remembering the waiting text. The number is still unfamiliar to me, but I can tell it is a local New York City cell number.

When you trampled Daniel, I had the biggest fucking hard on for you. I love it when you take charge, Seven.

I can't help but chuckle as my body responds to the words, clearly from Levi, who just left. It is probably a good thing I didn't read that
before
he waltzed into my office, all sex on a stick and shit. Should I reply? Should I play into this little game we have going on here? A very fucking dangerous game for both of us.

I just can't help it, because whether or not I want to admit it, I think I just met my fucking match.

My office @ 6:45. Don't miss it. I have an idea.

By the time everyone leaves the office for the day, I have interviews lined up to replace the president of operations in London. This kind of gross incompetence won't be tolerated, period. He’ll get his walking papers as soon as I set foot on English soil.

I have fifteen minutes before my conference call, and still no sign of Levi, which is probably better off anyway.

I shot Star a text, letting her know about the plans for the next couple days, and giving her free reign of my penthouse.

London for the next week. Penthouse is yours. Drinks tomorrow night before I leave?

Ideally, I like to check in with her before I leave, and in the wake of the Evan breakup, it’s even more important for me to make sure she’s handling it. In a lot of ways, Star is just like me. We both hide our emotions extremely well. As shattered as I was when Daniel left me, I never let anyone see. Not even Star, even though she could see right through the tough as nails persona I put on.

On cue, my phone comes to life with the conference call I’d patiently been waiting for. Still no sign of Levi; I’m sure he will steer clear of me as much as he can, at least until we hop on a plane to London and are forced to work one-on-one for days. Something I am both dreading, and looking forward to, because you know, I am mentally fucked up.

The Tokyo conference call drags on, and on, and on some fucking more. I continue looking at the clock, watching the minutes tick on by, completely bored out of my mind. My participation is limited, and my need to play Candy Crush on my cell phone grows. Somewhere around level one hundred and twenty three, my office door cracks open, and Levi saunters in. His appearance is tired, his jawline covered in a blanket of stubble, his tie pulled free, and the three top buttons of his expensive dress shirt left open. If I wasn’t shocked by him actually joining me, I may have found myself drooling all over my desk.

I quickly mute my end of the line.

“I didn't think you were going to join me,” I state, flatly.

He runs his fingers through his dark hair, never making eye contact. “I got stuck on a call. I should have been here an hour and a half ago. Damn lawyers.” Something is clearly bothering him, but I am not about to start playing Dr. Phil; I am already in too deep as it is.

My heart races as he sits down across from me, and props his black dress shoes up on my brand new desk. I should want to kill him for putting his dirty feet on my desk, but he looks too damn sexy for me to be mad.

My blood would boil if anyone else did this. I would hit the ceiling. And here he is, like he owns the place, and I am completely unfazed by it. Yup, I have lost my mind.

“Nothing from our legal department, right? I didn't get any memos.” The business side of me kicks in, and I start prying, while trying to listen in on my call.

He shakes his head, pressing his full lips together in a line. “My ex-wife is trying to get more money out of me. Nothing new. Just fucking annoying.” He’s uncomfortable and I can see why. Who would want to talk about his ex-wife with a woman he’s been hooking up with?
Wait, are we hooking up? No. It was a one-time thing. Wait. Two times. That is it!

“That sucks. I'm glad I don't have any messy exes like that.” I shrug it off, because any kind of conversation that may emotionally connect us is out of the picture. I don't need any more of a connection than what we have already established. Even that is way too much for me. The line I have always drawn in the sand has been crossed. Crushed. Erased. Pulverized.
FUCK!

His curiosity is peaked.
Damn it. I wish I could just keep my mouth shut sometimes.
Thinking before I speak can sometimes be a weakness of mine. Clearly.

“No exes? No messy break ups? No relationships?” His warm eyes connect with mine, and I feel insanely uncomfortable all of a sudden. I don't want to lie, but the truth is more than I can bear to deliver.

“I had one, a long time ago.” I shrug, and my attention is back to the conference call. I answer a couple questions before the line is disconnected and I am finally free to go home. Or am I?

I think the conversation has been dropped.

“Is it true?” Levi asks me, standing from the desk, like he is going to head for the door.

The vagueness confuses me. “Is what true?” I walk around the desk, picking up my laptop bag, and starting to get ready to leave the office after one of the longest days, ever.

“Daniel, You and Alexander? You dated in college?” His words slice through me; I whip my head up and shoot daggers from my eyes. I can feel my face turning red, something I didn't do as often as I probably should, but I can't help it, as anger takes over my entire being.

“Who told you that?” I yell at him across my office, and he knows a line has been crossed.

He thinks, very carefully before he speaks. A moment passes and he reaches for the door.

“Daniel told the board. He bragged that he left you for his wife. I'm sorry, Seven. I just thought you should know.”

He doesn't move. He’s waiting for my reaction. His gaze never leaves mine, and I am sure he can read the grim expression on my face. Something about Levi just breaks me; I can't hide the slightest thing from him. He is my kryptonite, and it sucks balls.

“It was a long time ago. I was over it the minute he walked out of my apartment. He was a shitty lay anyway.” I shrug it off, but I am sure Levi can tell I’m somewhat hurt. “But his actions are insubordinate, and will be immediately addressed tomorrow.”

Levi smiles, a genuine, panty dropping, heartwarming smile.
Is he happy I am going to take on Daniel?

“Good, I hope he gets exactly what he deserves. And by the way, he was a fool to walk away from you.”

And like that, his back is to me, and he is walking out of my door. Ninja-mind-fucking me again, something he is becoming particularly good at.

I pick up my phone and dial Daniel's number. It rings a handful of times before he answers.

“Daniel Alexander.”

“Daniel, Seven. I need to see you in my office at nine tomorrow morning, and not a minute after.” I stab the end button with my finger before tossing the phone into my laptop bag. Hanging up on him didn't make me feel any better; I doubt anything would at this point. Well, maybe a fucking lobotomy? I relax slightly, thinking about the fact that I am on the verge of ruining his career, and I can feel my blood pressure starting to return to an acceptable level.

All in good time, grasshopper.

Wednesday Morning

I step onto the company’s private jet in black sweatpants, a pink Marilyn Monroe t-shirt, and a grey hooded zip-up sweatshirt, nothing but flip flops on my feet. My hair is pulled back into a messy bun, and I’m in travel mode. Unless I’m going on a two-hour trip, and have someone to impress, I travel like a bum. I want to be comfortable, especially when I’m going to be on a plane for six hours.

I set my laptop case down on the seat next to mine, toward the back of the plane, and sit down. I immediately recline the seat and get ready for my motion sickness meds to kick in. All these years and I still get sick. You would think someone who grew up living in a moving house wouldn't be so screwed up by traveling.

I close my eyes, only to be interrupted by the sound of Levi talking with the flight attendant. His voice sends a shockwave through me. I return my seat to the upright position, and notice his eyes on me.

“You feeling okay?” he asks, moving my carry-on to the floor and sitting down next to me. He looks incredibly dapper in his custom suit, a striking difference to my extreme casual wear.

“I'm fine. I don't travel well. Motion sickness.” I recline my seat back again.

“I don't think I have ever seen you dressed down, Seven.” He lets out a laugh, and I decide as much as I want nothing to do with him, I love his laugh. It reminds me of a carefree child. Or maybe a teenage boy. Certainly not the businessman sitting next to me.

“When I travel, I like comfort. I couldn't imagine being stuck on a plane for six hours in some of the clothes
you
have seen me in.” I poke fun at him, and myself, lightening the mood before we embark across the Atlantic.

He leans in close before he whispers in my ear, “That lingerie from the other night would have been perfect for this flight.” His words send a shiver down my spine, as goosebumps spread across my entire body. I laugh and shoo him off with my hand.

I summon the flight attendant with a request before I settle in for a short nap.

“Once we get in the air, can I have a glass of ginger ale?” Anything to settle my stomach. The bubbly blonde enthusiastically agrees, and we brace for takeoff. My least favorite part of traveling.

My first clutches the armrest, as my heart pounds against my chest. Anxiety, holy anxiety. I should have grabbed a Xanax for this. Shit. I feel a hand rest on my whitened knuckles, but I don't look up. My fist unclenches, and my fingers lace between the strong hand offering comfort. I hold on for dear life, and a short while later, we are safely in the air. But the strong hold I have on Levi's hand never breaks, and I fall fast asleep as the Dramamine kicks in.

“What time is it?” I lift my arm to rub my eyes, only to discover my right hand is still firmly connected to Levi's. I couldn't have been asleep that long.

“Noon.” Four hours. Four long hours and he didn't move so I could sleep; he never gave up the grip of my hand.

I quickly withdraw my hand, and unbuckle the seatbelt, which is cutting off circulation to my damn hip. “Excuse me, do you think I can get a glass of ice when you have a moment?” I ask the blonde, before heading to the bathroom.

Behind the closed door, I stare at my hand.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I look at my reflection in the mirror and think back to everything I have hated about myself over the years.

“Seven, you are too uptight,” Blue said, passing me a joint. “You’re the oddball of the family; let your hair down.” My brother always could find a way to make me feel alienated.

“Leave her alone, Blue.” Star sat down on the makeshift bed next to me, taking the joint from my hand and pressing it between her pink lips. “Making fun of her isn't going to change who she is. She shouldn't have to change anyway. She is fine the way she is,” she continued, looking at my brother with disgust. She hated him, absolutely loathed everything about him.

“Whatever. She is fucking useless, anyway,” he said while he stood to walk away, with the joint secured between his fingers. “I'm outta here; see you bitches later.”

I shook my head, and thanked my lucky stars he was finally leaving.

“He is such a dick.” I turned to Star and laid my head in her lap. I never got used to the verbal abuse from my older brother. He made it clear my entire life that I was never wanted. Not by him, and certainly not by my parents. He was thirteen when I was born, and resented me every day since.

“Don't listen to him, Seven. He is only trying to get you upset.” Star ran her fingers through my hair. “I'm gonna head out for a little bit. You gonna be okay alone?” she asked with genuine concern.

“Yeah, I actually think I’m going to go out for a walk by the lake. It’s a clear night; I want to see the stars.”