Chapter Ten
In the days that followed, Lauren didn’t avoid Dante as she had in the past, hoping to protect her heart. They ran into each other frequently, mainly because she orchestrated that. Their kisses, hugs, and physical passion were the same, but his delight about her interview, his constantly mentioning it and cheering her on, was beginning to get on her nerves.
It was like he couldn’t wait to get rid of her.
She wanted to call him on it but didn’t have the nerve, and she certainly didn’t want to confirm that he was already moving on, far more easily than she would.
By Thursday, she was so strung out, she couldn’t relax. The hour for her interview edged closer. Once she finished there, she had an appointment with the potential buyer for this place. They’d agreed to meet at Starbucks. She should have been doing cartwheels down the hall rather than wanting to hurl.
She still hadn’t told Dante or the team about the buyer, only about her interview. Jasmina gave her a hug and encouraging words. Even Van Gogh had offered a forlorn “good luck” before he ducked into his workstation.
Dante passed her office repeatedly and kept glancing in.
Her smile was stiff. His buoyant.
At last, he strode inside. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your interview?”
“I already am.” She’d worn her suit to the parlor. Whenever she was up front, customers stared at her outfit and avoided eye contact, as they would with someone who was eager to convert them to a fire-and-brimstone lifestyle. Lauren couldn’t blame them. After so much time at Wicked Brand, she felt weird wearing corporate attire. Phony somehow.
Dante leaned down to her. “When’s your appointment?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“And you’re still here?” He pulled her to her feet. “Go.”
His directive hurt to her core. “It won’t take me that long to get there. It’s not that far away.”
“You can use the time alone in your car to calm down.”
“Do I look unglued?”
He regarded her for a long moment. His gaze softened. “You’re beautiful.”
Too much love and grief washed over her, leaving her close to tears. Just what she didn’t need: to fuck up what little makeup she had on.
“Hey.” He looked confused and worried. “That’s a compliment.”
“I better go.” She threw her arms around him and hugged him harder than she should. “Thanks for everything.”
He held her gently, either afraid she might break or he was again putting distance between them. “You’re going to do great. They’d be fools not to hire you.”
She snuggled closer, caring only what he thought. Everyone else could go to hell.
He held her a brief moment more, then eased away. “Go. This is your future.”
The parlor wasn’t. He’d never be. That’s what he was saying. Lauren knew he was right but didn’t want to hear it. Trying to hold herself together, she grabbed her purse and left her office.
…
Dante stood at the front window.
Lauren sat in her car, staring at nothing or maybe everything: her dream for a new job, having enough money to pay her bills, getting her life back on track, escaping this place. She looked so fucking unhappy he figured she was picturing her goals going up in smoke because her interview wouldn’t work out.
It couldn’t be that she’d miss their days together here.
They’d had wicked fun, no denying that. Too easily, Lauren had become a huge part of his life that he’d never regret. She got him. He got her, except when he hadn’t a clue what she was thinking. Like now.
Maybe he should have asked more questions…or not.
It was time for her to get on with her life. He couldn’t ask her to stay, even though he wanted that. It wouldn’t be fair. He’d be feeding his needy soul and neglecting her happiness. How long would a relationship like that last? Was it possible for them to have one after she left? He wasn’t certain she’d want to date him, hang out, or anything else.
Even if she did, she might go along with his plan for a while but would eventually turn him down to be with another guy at her new job.
His gut twisted.
She and that other man would bond at work. They might play adult games after hours. He’d tell her not to wear panties and to always be wet for him or there’d be hell to pay. He’d paddle Lauren in her new office, the ladies’ or men’s room before the other staff arrived, the break room, the stairwell, every-fucking-where.
Dante tightened his fists. He had to stop dwelling on this crap. He should go back to his station to do the endless paperwork but couldn’t until Lauren pulled away.
She still hadn’t.
He willed her to move.
At this point, she’d have to hustle unless her appointment was on this street. If she didn’t start her car soon and put on her air conditioner, she’d probably pass out from the heat. Could be her face had already turned red.
He craned his neck.
Jasmina joined him at the window. “What are you doing?”
Grieving and behaving like a fool. Dante rubbed his shoulder. “Nothing.”
She looked where he had. Her eyes nearly popped out. “Wow. Lauren’s still here? Shouldn’t she be at her appointment by now? Is she having car trouble?” Jasmina elbowed him. “Go out there and help her.”
The help Dante had in mind wouldn’t get Lauren to her interview. He’d offer to split his salary with her and throw in his pickup so she’d stay at Wicked Brand, which was insane.
“Wait.” Jasmina grabbed his arm, even though he hadn’t budged. “She just started her car. She’s pulling out of her spot. Whoa, thank goodness.” She squeezed his wrist. “She’s on her way.”
She was leaving. One day soon, she wouldn’t be coming back.
…
On the drive to her appointment, Lauren tried to cheer up. If by some miracle she got the job, it didn’t mean she was going to another planet. She’d still be in the area, not far from Wicked Brand.
If Dante didn’t mind altering his schedule, they could have lunch once a week. After the parlor closed for the night, they could get together. Sure, it’d be late, but she’d take a nap after work in order to be fresh for him. On the weekends, they could stay in bed, snuggle and have fun, maybe even fall in love—unless he had to work, which he usually did. The parlor was busiest on Saturdays and Sundays. That wasn’t likely to change once it got a new owner.
She drooped but wasn’t ready to give up. Even if they had hurdles to overcome, getting together could be doable if they wanted that. It might even be fun…until it became a huge hassle and he drifted away, which any sensible guy would do. Too many other women were prettier than she was, had better bodies, and worked hours that would accommodate his.
Her chest tightened so much it hurt. Ignoring the pain, she reached the building where she’d interview. The last time she’d been here, there had been five other applicants vying for the same position. To her surprise, the lobby was empty today except for the receptionist.
Lauren introduced herself.
The young woman offered a welcoming smile. “Please have a seat. I’ll tell Ms. Ivers you’re here.”
Within seconds, Karen stepped from a side office. Dressed impeccably, she looked like she ruled the world despite being no more than thirty-five. She offered a warm smile that enhanced her natural good looks and put out her hand. “Lauren. So good to see you again. I’m truly glad you could make it.”
Although Lauren should have expected Karen’s enthusiasm, given her previous emails, such warmth floored her. She’d grown accustomed to third-degree interviews and snarky comments about being unemployed. She began to relax and embrace hope. If she could actually get this great job after repeated rejection, maybe she and Dante could work things out. Someday, he might even feel about her as she did him. Anything was possible, right?
“Please come in.” Karen ushered her into the conference room. Two staff members waited, one male, one female, both middle age. They, like Karen and the receptionist, gave her friendly smiles.
Buoyed, she fairly danced inside.
After introductions were finished, Karen spoke first. “We’re very excited about this new opportunity, Lauren.”
Her pulse quickened. She nodded.
“It involves taking over a new division.” Karen tapped papers in front of her. “We’ve acquired another company and need a solid professional to make certain everything runs smoothly.”
No way would Lauren argue. “Of course.”
Karen fairly beamed. “We need someone to start as soon as possible. There’s a lot to be done. The company is willing to pay for relocation expenses.”
Lauren wasn’t certain she’d heard correctly. “Relocation?”
“Our newest acquisition is in Pensacola. We’re keeping their current staff until we can eliminate duplicate positions. We want on-site HR to make the transition less traumatic. Once that’s over, the HR director there will operate as an arm of this parent office.” Karen leaned closer and spoke conspiratorially. “We’ve learned it’s best to have local representation for staff. A part of the job will be to make everyone feel valued and listened to in order to reduce problems for management.”
Lauren nodded absently, still stuck on Pensacola, more than six hundred miles from West Palm Beach. Too far to drive for lunch or to visit on a regular basis.
Karen slid the papers toward her.
At the top was the salary offer, an astounding amount.
Lauren’s breath caught.
She hadn’t come close to making that much at her last position, nor had her title been as great as this one. It was her entry into the big time.
Peter, the middle-aged guy who was the company director, detailed the enormous potential for this position and the growth opportunities it offered.
Lauren reeled at what promise it held. Her belly wouldn’t stop clenching.
Once he’d wound down, Abby took over. She was Peter’s right-hand person and assured she’d be available to offer assistance. “We want to make this as comfortable for you as possible.”
They wanted her. Really wanted her. Surprise and sadness hit so hard, Lauren felt vaguely ill.
Karen regarded her closely. “We’ll need your answer by Tuesday as we want to move quickly on this. Please feel free to have your attorney go over our offer.” She slid several documents to Lauren. “If you have any questions in the interim, you can call me at home.” She pulled a business card from her pocket and wrote her number on the back.
Lauren took the card, grateful her hand didn’t shake. “Thanks.”
“Thank you.” Karen smiled sweetly. “Do you have any questions concerning what we’ve discussed so far?”
Lauren couldn’t think of any except why they wanted her to relocate so far away and why everything had to be so needlessly complicated in life. Why couldn’t this have been a job offer in this office? Why did she have to choose between what she needed to do and what she really wanted but would never have?
That, of course, settled everything, didn’t it?
Aching with despair, she went on autopilot and behaved as she should, asking how she could best serve the company. What the timeline was for the milestones they wanted her to hit. She next offered suggestions for the transition that made them smile.
Talked out and wrung dry, she let them take over the show. Everyone joked for a few minutes. The meeting ended on an upbeat note. A casual observer would have guessed they’d been friends for years.
Smiling as broadly as they did, Lauren shook their hands and left.
She sat in her car, staring into space, not wanting to think, afraid to feel. If anyone had told her six months ago she’d be behaving like this after getting a great offer, she would have said they were seriously insane.
She didn’t know what to do. Where to go.
And so she drove aimlessly, even though it ate up too much gas. She even ran her air conditioning. There wasn’t much choice. She was sweating badly, then trembling with cold shakes. Stopped at a light, she recalled her appointment with Mike Murreski, the potential buyer for the parlor.
They were supposed to meet in minutes.
She made a quick U-turn and drove back to West Palm Beach and Starbucks.
Mike relaxed at a table and looked remarkably similar to his photos on the net. A handsome man, fortyish or so, he had thick, dark hair that had already turned silver in spots. His tan enhanced his masculinity. Noting her business suit and that she was the only one here dressed conservatively, he waved her over.
She rushed to him. “Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s only been a few minutes. Can I buy you a coffee?”
Despite the chilled air in here, Lauren couldn’t stop sweating. Her heart pounded wildly. “I’ll have an iced tea.”
Mike ordered and brought their drinks to his table. “I have to say, I was very impressed with your presentation and video. Did you shoot it yourself?”
She’d taped it one morning before Dante and the others had arrived, not wanting to bum them out with what she was doing. She nodded.
Mike smiled, showing dazzling white teeth.
There weren’t any tats on his arms. Could be he’d inked his tongue or another hidden body part.
“Well then, let’s get started.” He pushed up in his chair. “I won’t make this difficult. I’m definitely interested in buying Wicked Brand.”
Everything whirled. This was happening too fast. She needed time to think and breathe.
He kept talking. “The price you’re asking is fair. I love the building and what you’ve done with it.”
“Van Gogh did the artwork.” She cradled her cold plastic cup, hoping it would cool her. “The murals were already there when I inherited the parlor.”
Mike rested his beefy forearms on the table. “About Van Gogh. That kid’s a genius. I intend to give him a huge raise right off.”
Lauren found her first real smile. “He’d love that.”
“I’ll have him train the rest of the staff, see if he can get them up to speed with what he does.”
“Oh no, please. You don’t understand. Dante doesn’t need any more training. He’s fine as he is.”
Mike looked confused. “Dante?” He grew thoughtful, then nodded. “Of course, the manager.”
“He’s also a tattoo artist.”
“I thought he only managed the place.”
“No.” Lauren frowned. She’d written tons about Dante and had expected Mike to read it. “He inks and keeps the parlor running smoothly.”
Mike sipped his black coffee. “I’m certain he does, but I have my own manager and crew. The young girl, Jade is it?”
Lauren’s throat tightened. “Jasmina.”
He nodded. “She’ll be let go like Dante. My company will give them a very nice severance package and a bonus to stay on to train my crew on Wicked Brand’s operation. That shouldn’t take longer than two weeks.”
Lauren went cold.
He pulled papers from his leather tote and slid them to her. “I’ve spelled out everything here. If we agree on terms, I’d like to take over as soon as possible.”
She drank her tea. It stuck in her throat.
“If you have any legal questions concerning my offer, you can contact my attorney. His number’s at the top of the first sheet. I’ll need your attorney’s name should I have any questions.”
The only lawyer she knew was the one who’d handled Frank’s estate. And Dante, of course. How in the hell was she supposed to tell him about this? How could she even begin to soften the blow? Wicked Brand wasn’t his life, not with his legal talent, but it had offered him a chance to heal from what he thought he’d done. Frank’s friendship had surely helped. Now both he and the business were history.
She would be gone soon, too, leaving Dante where she’d been when she had first walked into the parlor. Alone, tossed aside, searching for a job.
…
Dante wasn’t certain what to think. Lauren had left more than six hours ago. No interview he knew lasted that long unless the powers-that-be had invited her to dinner. Even if they had, no meal took five hours. He’d already checked the area hospitals to see if she’d been in an accident. Thankfully, she hadn’t. He’d called her cell. She hadn’t answered. He couldn’t leave a message since her voicemail was full.
Edgy, Dante paced, then returned to the front again. Van Gogh and Jasmina had left a half hour ago. Before she’d taken off, Jasmina had asked repeatedly about Lauren, wanting to know if she’d gotten the job.
All he could do was lift his shoulders. “I know as much as you do.”
She’d wagged her finger at him. “If you’d pursued her like you should have, she wouldn’t be leaving us.”
He had wanted to laugh, sigh, and swear at losing her. He’d made love to Lauren as he hadn’t with any other woman. He’d shared more laughs with her than he’d done with guys he knew. Not to mention paddling her when she’d been bad, which was often since she liked him spanking her. What the fuck else was he supposed to have done? Declare his undying love? The possibility that she’d reject him, saying they shouldn’t see each other again, made him queasy. “She needs a real job in her field, Jasmina. Wicked Brand isn’t her field.”
“Why not?” She lifted her chin. “She can’t do human resources here? You, Van Gogh, and I aren’t human?”
“You and I are. Now Van Gogh?”
Jasmina punched his arm lightly. “I’m serious.” Her cell phone rang. “I gotta go.”
She’d sprinted down the street to the fast-food joint where her boyfriend worked.
At least she knew where he was. Dante couldn’t figure out the same for Lauren.
He returned to his station and checked the time again. She couldn’t have started work already for that other company. What job required that on the same day as the interview? He should go home, get his pickup, and drive to the building where she’d gone to see if her car was still in the lot. If it was, he’d take off. She’d never have to know he’d been there. If it wasn’t…
He’d worry about that later.
He shut down everything in his station, hurried to the front, and flinched.
Lauren stood just inside the door. She’d taken off her suit jacket and looked beyond wilted. Her eyes were red and puffy, mascara smudged beneath them.
They’d turned her down. Fucking a-holes. “It’s okay.” He gathered Lauren in his arms and rubbed her back. “There’ll be other opportunities. Better ones. They must have been nuts not to have—”
“I got the job. All I have to do is say yes.”
He frowned, not understanding, and eased back to see her face. New tears glistened in her eyes. “It wasn’t what you wanted? It’s a lesser position?”
“It’s in Pensacola. Six hundred miles away.”
Everything stilled, then reality slammed into him, leaving him stunned. That much distance meant he couldn’t see her on even a semi-regular basis. At least not in the physical sense. There could always be computer or phone chats, but who did that for any length of time? Once she left, she’d really be gone.
Nausea rolled over him.
He wanted to tell her to stay but couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. It’d be beyond selfish. He’d been that way before with his fucking cases and the plaintiffs he’d hurt. He couldn’t do it again, especially not to her.
She stared. “Didn’t you hear me?”
“Yeah, of course.” His gut ached. “Isn’t it a good opportunity for you?” Was that why she’d been crying?
She covered her eyes. “It’d be a good opportunity for anyone. A great title. More money than I’ve ever seen. A chance to move up in the company.”
He didn’t want to hear any more but wouldn’t turn away. She deserved his support. He forced himself to sound enthused, delighted even, when what he really wanted was to get drunk and pass out. “Then you did the right thing by accepting.”
Lauren dropped her hand. “Haven’t you been listening? I have until Tuesday to give them my decision. They told me to run their offer by my attorney. Other than the guy who handled Frank’s affairs, you’re the only other lawyer I know.”
He stepped back. “You want me to look over the paperwork?” She wanted his help to get her out of his life? No goddamn way could he do that.
She threw her purse on the nearest sofa. “I’m sure Mike wouldn’t think that was such a good idea. Of course, Mike doesn’t know you’re a lawyer.”
“Mike?”
“The guy who wants to buy the parlor.”
This was getting worse by the minute. “You sold the place, too?” All this in one pissing day?
She breathed hard. “He wants my attorney to look over his papers. He loves Van Gogh. Wants to give him a raise.”
Dante could barely follow what she said. His heart hurt too much. “Ah…good. Van Gogh deserves it.”
Lauren frowned. “You do, too.”
He made a face. “I don’t care about money.”
“I know. You should.”
“Why?” He wanted to swear or break something. “I have all the money I need.”
“You don’t have any goddamn thing.” She shook her fists. “He wants to replace you with his own manager. Jasmina, too. Both of you will be gone in two weeks, as soon as you train the other crew to take over.”
Everything went quiet again.
He finally understood that this was really it, and his stomach clenched.
No wonder Lauren had taken so long to return and had been crying when this should have been the happiest day of her life. She’d been scared to tell him his job was over, just like that.
Their time together, too.
Or maybe their relationship had never begun.
He cleared his throat and did his level best to sound supportive when his first urge was to put his fist through the goddamned wall. “I’ll tell Jasmina tomorrow. Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.” He grinned so hard his face hurt. “It’s just a job, after all. There’s always another at a new place. Probably better, too. I can’t believe how great this is for your career and future. And believe me, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this as easy as possible on you.”
“Easy? I’m dying here. Can’t you see that?” She got in his face and spoke through her teeth. “Do you want me to go that badly? If you do, say it, dammit. I want to hear the words, not your cheerleading for me to get lost.”
“What are you talking about?” He shouted as she had. “You’re the one who wanted an HR job. Hell, I’m thrilled you got such a good one.”
“So you do want me to go. What we did together was no fucking big deal for you. It was just screwing around with the help.”
“The help? Have you lost your damn mind?” He jabbed his thumb into his chest. “I’m the pissing help.”
“You’re the one who’s always been in charge of this place and me, and you damn well know it. I remember every fucking thing you said, even if you don’t.” She made her voice low-pitched like his. “No more panties from now on. I want you wet whenever I’m near. You have to wear a skirt. No bra, either.” She hollered in her normal voice again. “Like I’d ever fucking do that.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You said you liked it.”
“The games, not going without a bra. What’s wrong with you? Can’t you see how big I am?”
Dante clenched his jaw and crowded her. “Don’t you ever, and I do mean ever, say that again. There is nothing wrong with your goddamn figure.”
“Except it’s too big, and I’m not pretty enough, and—”
“Not pretty enough? Are you blind? You’re fucking beautiful.”
“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” She bounced on her heels. “Don’t try and be nice because you think that’s what I want to hear. It’s not. I don’t need sympathy or kindness when I’m faced with the brutal truth every damn time I look in a freaking mirror. What’s the matter with you? Don’t you ever look at yourself? With your great looks and good heart, every woman who meets you wants you.”
He backed up a step. “Now you’re accusing me of flirting again?”
“Don’t yell at me!”
“You’re doing it to me.”
“I don’t want to.” She wept and then sniffed. “And I’m not accusing you of anything. You don’t flirt. You don’t have to. Even if you don’t notice women, they still want you. That’s why you want me gone. Fine. I am.”
She grabbed her purse, yanked on the locked door, and collapsed against it, racked with sobs.
He didn’t know what to do. This was killing him. “Ah…”
“I’m all right, dammit.” She sniffed. “Soon as I find the key and open this stupid door, I’ll…” She dropped her purse.
Dante rushed to her. “Don’t cry, please.”
“I’m not. Why should I? I’m going. You want me gone and so I’m—”
“No, I don’t. I never said that. I’ve never thought it. But I don’t have the right to ask you to stay.”
She faced him. Her mouth trembled. “Why not? Don’t you care for me at all? Even as a coworker?”
“Coworker? Care for you? Lauren, I…” He grabbed her shoulders. “Do you honestly think that about me?”
Tears dripped from her chin. “You haven’t asked me to stay. You kept encouraging me to go to the interview, get the job, and leave.”
In his wildest fantasies, he wouldn’t have imagined this. “No, I didn’t. I lied. I’ve never wanted you to take off. What I feel for you goes way beyond what you believe. I fucking love you. I think I did from the moment you said you owned this place and me. When we laughed about that carousel horse and you rode it like that was the best thing ever, I was pretty damn sure I’d die without you. Every moment since then has convinced me. I’m so far gone, I’ll never be the same again.”
She pressed her hands to her chest and looked up at him. “You love me? Seriously? You’re not just being nice?”
“By baring my soul to you? Fuck no. And yeah, I love you. Didn’t I just say that a few seconds ago?”
“You never said anything before then. Not one word.”
“Because I didn’t know how you felt about me. I thought you wanted out of here and to get on with your real life that didn’t include us being together. That’s the only reason I didn’t tell you what I wanted and hoped for. I didn’t want to pressure you to give up your dreams.”
“Are you kidding? You’re my dream.” She threw herself into his arms.
He staggered, then righted himself and her.
She clung to him. “I’ve never wanted anyone like I do you.” She pressed her face to his neck. “I adore you. Always have. Always will. I don’t want to take the job. I don’t want to sell the parlor. You can’t make me.”
Like he was trying to? This had gotten so far out of hand, he figured he’d better get a grip on reality since she wasn’t heading in that direction. He eased her back. “Baby, I’m not trying to make you do anything. This isn’t my call. It’s yours. If you’re worried about me, hell, I’m a big boy. I’ll find another job. I just want you to be happy.”
“Do I look happy?”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, taking her mascara with it. Her mouth wobbled. She could barely catch her breath. If he hadn’t loved her, he would have thought she looked like hell. “No. But you have to be sure, Lauren. These are great opportunities for you. Think of the money.”
“Screw the money.” She ran her finger beneath her nose. “I want you more.”
He pulled her back into his arms and held her as hard as he dared, afraid if he let loose with his feelings he’d crush her. “You won’t regret it?”
“Will you?”
“Never.” He slanted his mouth over hers and claimed her for his own.
Now that he knew how she felt, there was no fucking way he would ever let her go.