Chapter One

Mae had finished her work for the day and was putting it all in some semblance of order. Of course, everyone else had gone for the evening, leaving her to her favorite part of the work day. The part where she didn’t have to talk to people and didn’t have to answer questions or take orders. She was on her own and able to do what she wanted to do to get her job done. Sure, she dawdled, but that was just because the dim lighting in the office at this time of night was relaxing.

At the moment, she was putting an enormous stack of subpoenas in order so they could be delivered tomorrow, as well as prioritizing her list so she could be more efficient. As the assistant floor supervisor, she had the brunt of the work—overseeing the operators, fly-guys, and process servers for the company. The floor supervisor mostly sat in his office and made sure she did everything.

She didn’t mind, though. At twenty-two, she enjoyed the responsibility of her job. She couldn’t explain it to most people, but she knew her job was important to the running of the legal system, and she was helping serve justice by getting the records subpoenaed for trials. It was an unsung thing; nobody asked about who actually made sure people handed over the records required in these civil suits, but Mae had a sense of pride in her work, menial as it was.

The squeak of the janitor’s cart coming down the hallway interrupted her self-serving thoughts. Normally, that wouldn’t excite her so much, but the guy they’d hired last month was hot as fuck, and she couldn’t stop the sudden racing of her heart.

That might be one of the reasons she stayed late so often. Catching a glimpse of Jason made her day. And the nights he came in to empty the waste baskets, sweep, and vacuum, were even more exciting.

One of these days, she might even talk to him.

But as she saw his shock of light-brown hair falling across his forehead above chiseled features set in stern lines, she realized she would chicken out again. Today was not the day.

Busying herself with straightening her desk, going through sticky notes, and lining up her file folders, Mae knew she was just putting off the inevitable. At some point, she would have to get up and walk away.

She listened as his cart got closer—Jason emptying trash cans and using the little sweeper thing to herd stray paper into the long-handled dustpan—wondering if she would ever get up the guts to talk to him. He was really cute, and his body, while hidden under his company coveralls with his name stitched on the chest, looked strong and fit. Mae wasn’t about to lie and say she hadn’t imagined him stripping out of those coveralls and taking her virginity across her desk.

That thought slapped her in the face.

Yeah. There was no way. She had nothing to offer a guy like Jason, a man who could no doubt have any woman he wanted. Why would he go for a girl with so little experience?

Sighing, she leaned down to grab her purse from the locked drawer of her desk, but the smell of his aftershave hit her, and Mae realized how close he’d gotten while her thoughts had been miles away.

Sure enough, she looked to her right and saw into Jason’s green eyes, as he was right there, bending down to reach for her trash can tucked underneath her desk.

“Can I get your trash real quick?” Jason’s voice was a unique silk, smooth and indulgent, and rarely heard. His eyes on her were soft, and a vague smile graced his lips as he looked at her, still reaching for her can, effectively boxing her in.

Mae pursed her lips and gave a thoughtful look. “I don’t know. I’ve got some pretty valuable stuff in there. You gonna take care of it?” Oh my God. Was she flirting with him? And if she were, why couldn’t she come up with something better than some comment about valuable garbage? Her face flushed hot as she realized she sounded like an idiot.

But the vague upturn of his lips turned to a smirk, and his eyes zeroed in on her mouth. “I can take care of it real good. I promise,” he said, his voice flirty and smooth, full of double entendres.

Mae squeaked. She hadn’t meant to; she’d meant to inhale and exhale and do all the breathing, maybe come back with a flirty retort, but all she’d done was squeak.

Jason emptied her can into the large, wheeled trash can behind her cubicle, turning back to her and invading her space once again.

As he bent to return the can to its place, he lingered, frozen. Then, she watched in slow motion as he reached out and grazed a rough fingertip up the line of her calf.

Holy shit. He was coming on to her. Mae didn’t think twice. She’d lusted after this guy since she’d first set eyes on him, had countless fantasies about him, and knew he would be perfect to take her virginity. Surely the dude was experienced enough to make it good. For fuck’s sake, he was walking sex on a stick.

Her next move was blatant, but who cared? If she crashed and burned, she wouldn’t stay late anymore and would never have to see him.

Leaning back in her chair, she spread the legs he was ogling wide, giving him a perfect view of the crotch of her white lace panties.

His green eyes bulged as his mouth dropped open before he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing audibly before he absently licked his bottom lip. His gaze darted back up to her. Wondering if she’d been too forward, Mae pretended to be reaching for her purse, stretching her body at an awkward angle, which might account for her flashing him.

“Hey, would you like to—” Jason’s hand fell to her knee while he came up with his next words. Her heart leapt. She hadn’t misread everything. He stroked the bend of her leg with his thumb as he wrapped his fingers around the cap of her knee. Her eyes were glued to the touch, willing it to be more. He was going to ask her out. Maybe she could get some sex with Mr. Yummilicious.

The moment was interrupted by what sounded like a gunshot and men yelling. It was so foreign to Mae’s ears, she didn’t place the sounds at first. She was in the middle of an epic seduction. What was going on? Nobody was here to rob, and people didn’t rob places like this anyway. So there wasn’t a reason for her to be hearing these things, right?

She was frozen, legs splayed, still trying to process her thoughts, but Jason had already sprung into action.

Pushing her under the desk and wrapping his body around hers, his green eyes that had been so heated earlier were now chilled and purposeful. He placed his hand over her mouth, muffling further squeaks from her, but she took the hint and kept quiet.

“Everybody down! I mean up! Hands where I can see them!” A slight pause from the heavy Texas-accented voice. “Anybody here?”

Another pause, then a different voice.

“I don’t think anybody’s up here. We need to do the next floor. Bo said we had fifteen minutes before he blows it.”

A prickle of unease went across Mae’s skin, even as the reality set in. She could feel the muscles under Jason’s coveralls tense, and as she realized the danger they were in, she couldn’t help but cling to Jason’s biceps, if for no other reason than to touch him. His strength was reassuring. A man with a gun was talking about blowing shit up, and that was freaking her out more than a little. Jason put his finger to his lips, gesturing for her to be quiet, his eyes pleading with her as he squirmed to leave.

Mae gripped even tighter, not willing to let go, but he mouthed the words, “I’ll be back for you.”

The honest appeal that shone from his eyes was what it took for her to let go, and she did as he deftly rose from under her desk. She pushed herself back further, against the wall, suddenly thankful she had the largest cubicle on the floor.

She didn’t hear Jason move around, but as he disappeared, he’d transformed from the sexy janitor to some sort of Tom-Cruise-Mission-Impossible guy she’d only seen in movies. And then he disappeared.

Mae stayed there for what seemed like forever, listening to the sounds of a faint struggle outside the doors to the call center, where there was usually a low din of voices but was now mostly silent. She heard the door to the stairwell open and shut, then nothing.

For a long time.

Well, it seemed like a long time, but the longer she waited, the more she realized it was probably her mind playing tricks on her. The man had said it would blow in fifteen minutes, but Mae tried to tell herself that was some sort of hillbilly slang for “we need to get out of here” instead of the explosions she was envisioning.

Her heart thudded in her chest, and Mae gripped her fists around her knees, curling up in a ball. Trickles of perspiration ran down her back in the chilled room, and she shivered. Her palms were wet with sweat, the fear of the unknown making impossible nightmares in her head. Her eyes were clenched shut, as she couldn’t sit there watching nothing happen when so much she couldn’t see was happening somewhere.

While Mae was stuck inside her head, the air around her shifted and she squinted one eye open. Her nightmares came to life as a pair of neon-orange, high-topped sneakers walked into her vision. A strange man sat at her desk, and she thanked everything that was holy—again—for her cubicle. With the length and depth of it, she was easily hidden in the shadows as the man bent down and inserted something into her USB drive, mindlessly whistling Zippety-Doo-Dah as he clacked her keyboard and clicked her mouse as if he owned it. Gone were thoughts of Jason’s touch on her leg merely minutes ago. That seemed so far away, in an alternate reality. Or was this the alternate?

Mae held her breath, desperate to remain undetected while the man worked. Her lungs burned, her heart raced, her fingers tingled, and her mind scrambled for a way out. When she couldn’t hold it anymore, his walkie talkie squawked to life and she used the noise to ease the air out of her lungs.

“Abort. We’ve got a cowboy down—”

Muttered curses sounded as the man reached for the radio on his belt. “Hold him off. I’m almost done. Hello?”

Nothing but static answered, and the man stood. “Fuck this.”

Mae blinked and the orange shoes were gone.

Too scared to breathe deeply, she continued her shallow breaths while tears escaped her eyes. She had no idea where Jason had gone, how many men were in the basement, if there really was a bomb, or even if she was about to just blink out of existence.

That was the scariest part of all. Would it hurt to die? Would she be aware of blowing up? Or would the bomb be a bad one, only causing the building to collapse on her while she smothered to death under the debris?

She knew she was about to die, the only question was, how?

When a low voice whispered her name, she thought she was imagining things.

“Mae, we’ve got to go.” She looked up to see Jason, ducking under her desk and holding out his hand. Mae expelled a breath as she reached for Jason’s hand. He gripped her and tugged, a strong reassurance, even as she trembled wildly in his grip. The surrealness of the situation seeped into her bones. Five minutes ago—or maybe it had been an hour—she thought she’d never see Jason again. She thought she’d never see anybody again.

Looking back at her computer, Mae mindlessly reached out and grabbed the USB drive the man had abandoned and stuck it in her bra. She had no idea what to do with it, but it felt important.

Jason led her out of the call center and down the stairs. When they got outside, a police cruiser was just pulling up to the curb, sirens blaring and lights flashing.

Jason pulled her toward him. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

And then it was nothing but chaos as Mae tried to string words together to give a statement, first to the police, then to the feds, then to some other entity in suits. It was a long time before she would be able to go home.