EIGHT
LUCY
Despite my determination to show up at work at nine AM on the dot the next morning, I park my Jeep in front of EXtreme Effects at eight-forty—just as Daisy is propping open the front door. She shields her hand over her eyes and a shit-eating grin crosses her delicate features. Dammit. Knowing Jace, he made some sort of bet that I'd be super early. I've gone and inadvertently proved him right.
She walks down the sidewalk, and when she taps lightly on the passenger window, I grudgingly let it down. "I’m early again. Sorry," I mutter. And unlike the day of my interview, this time I really am. She shrugs off my apology.
"You’re an odd one, Sunshine. Who says sorry for being early to work? Have you eaten yet?" When I say I haven't, she motions to the open front door. "Jace is an asshole on Mondays, so I always pick up coffee and doughnuts. Makes him easier to deal with."
It’s not hard to imagine Jace—in all his sarcastic, cocky glory—with a heavy dose of irritability thrown in. “Coffee and doughnuts,” I repeat. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
"Smart girl. Are you getting out or do you plan on sitting in here all morning, listening to—" She presses one ear inside my Jeep but immediately recoils. "Oh, sweetie, no. John Mayer? I'm going to have to call and cancel your satellite radio until you find a better station."
"This song is a classic," I grumble as I follow her inside. While she rattles off why my choice of music is heinous and gathers papers from the printer, I grab a glazed doughnut and a cup of coffee.
"He said he's already had you sign the NDA, which is, like, his big thing. The guy fucking hates cell phones and cameras with a passion. Just give me back the rest later today or tomorrow." She hands the paperwork over to me, and I leaf through them between bites of my doughnut. "Payday falls every other Friday.”
"Sounds perfect."
"Theo and Griff are working on getting your office ready, but it shouldn't take much longer. Jace thought you'd be in later." Parking herself in her rolling chair, she brings her knees up to her chest and drums her fingertips against her leggings, right over a yellow smiley emoji. "You look a little ... out of it."
"Yes, well—" I inhale deeply and filter my fingers through my hair before pinning the jet-black strands behind either ear. "He told you about the other night, didn't he?"
Her lips curl toward her nose like she smells something awful. Which is probably the stench of my anxiety. "I can say he didn't if it will make you feel better.” When I let out a throaty groan and sink down in one of the chairs beside her desk, she lowers her feet to the floor and shimmies herself closer. "Look, I thought he told you everything during the interview."
From her wide eyes and the hand placed firmly over her heart, I believe her. "Then he comes home Saturday night grinning like the cat that ate the canary, and—" When my body goes taut, she pauses, a frown forming on her face. "What's wrong, Sunshine?"
Jace had gone home to Daisy.
Right after he’d loosened my buttons. After he set my body aflame with that piercing blue stare and guarded smile. After he took me to a sex party. And even though I had a hunch they were together when I saw them together yesterday morning, my heart still lurches. Which is ridiculous. At the end of the day, it shouldn't matter to me at all who or what Jace Exley goes home to.
"It's nothing.” I smile tightly, but Daisy’s brows shoot up toward her platinum hairline.
"No, it's not. You look like I just punched you in the spleen and stole your lunch money.”
"I promise it's fine." And by fine, I mean I feel shitty for letting Jace get to me when he already has someone.
She stares at me unblinking for a moment, then a grin nudges her lips. "Jace isn't my boyfriend, Sunshine. I'm engaged to Theo—have been for what seems like for-e-ver because he's dragging his feet getting the show on the road. Jace spent the weekend with us while the painters were sprucing up his place."
"Oh."
"You're squishing your doughnut." She gestures to the remainder of the pastry in my fist. Checking the metal clock on her desk, she says, "We have another ten minutes before work officially starts, and since everything is fine and I don’t want to scare you off on your first day here, tell me about this amazing marketing plan you have. And, seriously, stop harassing that poor doughnut. It’s had enough, don’t you think?"
Nodding, I loosen my grip.
To be honest, my amazing marketing plan flew out the window the second I realized the nature of EXtreme’s business. I still plan to call my friend Andi who designs the best websites I've ever seen, but I’ll have to reevaluate other ways to promote the company. Something tells me the clock conventions I researched as soon as he offered me the job last weekend aren’t going to cut it.
"You have no idea, do you?" Daisy's voice cuts into my thoughts. "It's okay if you don't. I'd never owned a computer before I started working here."
"Of course I have an idea,” I argue, tossing my smooshed doughnut in the wastebasket by her desk. “I just want to run them by Jace first.”
"You're a consummate bullshitter. No wonder he chose you over Mr. Dungeons and Dragons." She runs her gaze over my body and bites her lip. "Guess it also helps that you look like that."
Ignoring that last part, because I'm not entirely sure how I should react to her thinking I was hired because of my physique, I arch an eyebrow. "Who’s Mr. Dungeons and Dragons?"
She rolls her chair so close to mine she’s practically in my lap. "So, he had this other guy who applied for the position—a real douche if you ask me—but it takes one to know one, right?" I lift my shoulders half-heartedly, not wanting to do any more damage by confirming that I think Jace is the king of the douches. She takes my shrug as an invitation to keep talking. "Well, this motherfucker had dragon tats everywhere and all he could talk about was how he uses our stuff in his own—”
"Daisy," a low voice growls in warning a few feet away. Both our heads snap toward the entrance to the workshop, where Jace is standing with one arm propped against the doorframe and his other hand skimming through his dark hair. He's wearing a long sleeve black V-neck with the sleeves pushed up to his forearms and a pair of work pants that are covered in black smudges and tiny flecks of metal. He looks dirty.
Dirty and too sexy for his own damn good.
I feel awful for thinking that, but not as bad since I know he and Daisy aren’t together.
He gives me a self-possessed turn of his full lips. "Morning, Williams.”
"Jace," I say with a stiff nod.
"The guys are still working on your office," he explains then yawns into his elbow. "Come with me while you wait. I want you to get a taste for what we do here."
A taste for what they do. The other night wasn't enough flavor?
Shakily, I fold my paperwork into the pocket of my laptop bag. Daisy flashes me an enthusiastic thumbs up and backs her chair away so I can stand.
"Let me know if you need to know how anything works," she's saying loudly as I follow after him. "Good luck. And if any of the guys give you shit, don't be afraid to tell them to fuck off."
Jace and I make a pit stop by my new office, which is slightly bigger than the reception area. The only furniture is a cushy rolling chair identical to Daisy's and an oversized desk that I can tell has been newly assembled based on the Ikea box leaned against one wall. After I put my laptop bag beneath the desk, Jace formally introduces me to Theo and Griffin. I feel my face catch fire when the latter says he’s always been a fan of hot Korean chicks.
"She's half-Vietnamese, you git," Jace points out, casting a dark look at Griffin, who shrugs sheepishly.
“My apologies.” He extends his arm, and we shake quickly before he stuffs both hands in his pockets. “I promise I’m harmless.”
“That’s because your lovely Korean wife will be a fan of twisting you by the balls for even glancing at our—” Blue-gray eyes roam over me, and my chest expands beneath Jace’s amused gaze. He’d given me the same look many times the other night, and it’s even more unnerving now. “—Lucy.”
Their Lucy.
His Lucy.
Well, damn. I rip my eyes from him. I still can’t face him without thinking of the other night or overanalyzing every word he says, so I look at Theo. Daisy’s Mohawk-wearing fiancé snorts and lifts a metal storage cabinet that’s at least a hundred pounds without so much as a grunt. "Nari won’t have much to twist." Peeking around the side, he bends his head in a cordial nod. "Welcome to the madhouse, ma'am."
It always catches me off guard when someone calls me ma'am—especially when they're probably older than me—but I don't correct him. “I’m happy to be here.”
“Sure you are,” Jace says under his breath before turning from the room and taking off. I follow behind him, maintaining a safe distance between our bodies when I finally catch up and fall in step beside him. I'm afraid to touch him. Afraid that, if I do, my body will react the same way it did on Saturday. To my embarrassment, the flutter returns to my chest when he studies the side of my face, as if he's willing me to look at him.
I don't.
"Why are you doing that?"
"Griff really is harmless, even if he has no filter. He’s very much in love with Nari and their thirty kids."
“Thirty kids. Really, Jace?”
“It’s three, but if you met them, you’d say thirty too.”
"Well, Griff is tame.” A gritty laugh tumbles past his lips, so I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. "I'm not planning to talk about it if that's what you're waiting for." In fact, I had repeated it like a mantra all the way to work.
I will not talk about the sex party.
I will not bring up the Voyeur Room.
I will not freak out about what happened.
“Are you still pissed?”
“That you tricked me into walking blindly into a situation that made me uncomfortable?” I demand. “Of course I’m not.”
"And yet you came,” he drawls. "Good job on not being so … buttoned-up, by the way."
Screw him for saying that. This morning, I had gone for a step above business casual with low black heels, black and white houndstooth-patterned pants, and another crisp white button-up. My mother had given me hell for the top couple of buttons I intentionally left undone. She's always been a stickler for neatly pressed clothes, which she attributes to twenty years of helping my father keep his uniforms tidy for work.
I run my fingertips over my cuffs and glance up at Jace. My heels are so short that he towers a good five inches over me, appearing more powerful than ever. "Since you cater to the naked and unafraid, I figured this was safe.”
"Naked and unafraid, huh?” I nod, winning a grin that curls the pit of my stomach. “I wish you'd been this sarcastic when I knew you all those years ago."
"To hear you tell it, I was."
"No, love, you were a know-it-all. And now you're a sarcastic know-it-all."
I skim my teeth over the soft flesh of the inside of my cheek. "Isn't that the worst type?"
"Not if she keeps you on your toes."
I consider asking him exactly what he means, but I don't as we approach a man with a high bun who's a couple of inches taller than my five foot six. He's behind a large workshop table, his head bent over a design sketch while he hums along with the music streaming through his earbuds. He holds up a finger when Jace impatiently knocks against the metal surface of the table like it’s a door. After he scribbles a few notes, Man Bun jerks one earbud out and looks up at us, a gleam in his dark eyes.
"Ahh, so this is the shark. Funny, I don't really think of the Jaws song looking at her up close." He hums a few bars of the climactic theme before shaking his head and giving me a once over. “It’s nice to meet you, sweetheart.”
"You called me a shark?" I gasp, leaning away from my new boss and glowering up at him.
He grins boldly. Deliciously. Damn him. “It’s what your former boss at W-whatever called you. Because you’re hungry and motivated. I thought the name fit you to a T.”
Of course he did. Smoothing my features into a sweet and, hopefully, un-shark-like smile, I take a step closer to Man Bun and offer my hand. "I'm Lucy Williams."
"Ashton Frey." He shakes my hand, making a face because the dirt from his fingers smudges mine. He reaches under the table and comes back up a moment later with a blue shop towel that he hands to me. "Be careful what you wear around here, it's easy to get dirty."
"She's already aware of that," Jace says too suggestively for my liking. Heat pulses through me along with a vivid picture of the scene at Mr. B’s house. For as long as I live, I likely won’t forget what I saw at that party. I hear Jace’s footsteps heading in the other direction, and I turn around to find he's already halfway to the other end of the workshop.
"Keep up," he calls behind him, not bothering to turn around.
"It was good to meet you," I tell Ashton. His mouth twitches as he wishes me good luck. He's the second of Jace's employees to tell me that today, and another nervous bubble forms in the center of my chest.
Not only have I accepted a job working for Mr. Kinkster, he’s also apparently an asshole. Just like in high school.
Although Jace’s legs are much longer than mine, I still manage to catch up in four long strides. "What exactly have you told them about me?" I ask through ground teeth. He feigns a look of confusion. "Just so I know why they're giving me funny looks in the break room."
"Only that they'll be getting bigger bonuses next Christmas because the shark is going to put us on the map."
His words send my heart sinking to my stomach. "You shouldn't make them promises."
"And why the fuck not? You said it yourself when I called and offered you the position: By this time next year, you'll have our name out to every corner of the world." When I don't immediately respond, he pauses and turns to face me. And when I avoid his gaze, he reaches out and tucks a rough fingertip beneath my chin, jerking the air from my lungs. He forces my stare up to his.
I wish he’d just asked me to look at him. I would have complied, I would have met his eyes without even a hint of protest, if it meant keeping my wits and breath and emotions intact.
I fold my arms over my chest, and a harsh noise strains through my lips. "That's when I thought you made clocks."
"And now you know I make fuck-toys and other fun goodies, so you've got plenty to work with." He lowers his hand from my face then walks away. Again. Heaving a harsh sigh, I take a few seconds to still the butterflies whirling through my chest, and then I join him in front of one of the tall shelves pushed against the far wall of the workshop.
Without warning, he grabs something from the middle rack and tosses it in my direction. I catch it easily, closing my fingers around cold metal.
I crinkle my nose at the circular piece of brushed steel in my palm, running my fingertips along the grooved outer edges. "Jace ... what is this?"
"Love, are you kidding—" I look up from my open hands to find him rolling his eyes up toward the ceiling. "It's a cock ring, Lucy."
What. The. Shit?
I give him a look of absolute horror, so he closes the space between our bodies until the tips of his boots brush against the black patent toes of my pumps. "You can relax. It's not been on anyone's nasties ... not yet, anyway."
Gosh, he has such a lovely way of phrasing things—said no one ever. I weigh the smooth metal between my hands for a few more moments and then drop it in his outstretched palm. He returns it to the shelf, right next to what I know with one hundred percent certainty is a gleaming, dual-ended dildo.
Stepping directly in front of me and pulling my attention back to his bearded face, he gives me a smoldering look that once again makes it difficult for me to think clearly. "Welcome to the EXtreme family, Williams."