CHAPTER TWO
Kendra
New York was boggling my mind as I rode in a fancy limousine with my new roommate, Jeff, and six more interns to Key Ventures. With any luck, we’d get there sometime while the morning sun was still low in the sky. The traffic was terrible, but everyone told me that was to be expected.
Being from North Carolina, I wasn’t used to such congested living. The apartments the company had put us up in, two of us in each unit, were tiny. My bedroom at home was nearly the size of the entire apartment. I could hear Jeff snoring in his bedroom across the hall. The tiny bathroom with a minuscule stand-up shower was a nightmare to move around in.
I’d called my dad as I finished getting ready for my first day in a real New York office. He answered the phone the way he usually did for me, “Hey there, Scout. How’s the big city treating my oldest baby girl?”
“Okay, I guess. The flight came in really late last night, and I had a hard time understanding the cab driver. But I made it to the apartment and met my new roomie, a guy from Cal State, Jeff Sanborn.”
His voice turned to steel. “He’s on the up and up, isn’t he?”
My father was active in keeping me on the right track. “He’s on the up and up. He told me he has a girlfriend in Mississippi and that he plans to ask her to marry him once he’s established himself. He’s a nice guy.”
“Great to hear that. Now, on to other matters. Keep your head held high; don’t look weak for one second. Those predators can smell weakness. It’s not enough to act strong and fearless, you must actually be those things at all times. You know how you’ve been trained. Now you’re out on your own, and it’s all up to you. I have faith in you. Don’t worry.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled simultaneously. “I’m not worried, Dad. I know how to handle myself. You’ve taught me well. Nothing to worry about.”
“Good to hear. Report back after your first day at work. I’ll keep your mother informed of your progress.”
I was still smiling at my dad’s gruff tone as we ended the call. A retired Navy SEAL, he was stuck with three daughters, but he made sure we were trained to the best of his ability. My two younger sisters and I learned hand to hand combat as early as five years old. Our poor mother, who was left with us all alone when Dad went on his missions, had to deal with us. It was every bit as bad as having a houseful of boys, she’d say.
While Dad was gone, we’d practice covert missions of our own. Missions that included retrieving the ice cream from the freezer, eating every bit of it, then replacing the empty carton without Mom seeing a thing. We loved putting the things Dad taught us into practice.
I respected my parents more than most people I knew did theirs. It wasn’t that my sisters or I were without brains. We followed what our parents said because they had a way of making perfect sense when they explained things to us. Dad had mastered communication skills with his role in the military. He wasn’t the kind of person who expected his troops, or his family, to do as he said and not as he did. He was that man who made a good example of himself at all times.
I smiled, thinking of all the talks we’d had over the years. Dad had a knack for getting into the meat of any topic. Including the topic of reproduction.
The sex talk went further than the birds and bees thing. Dad went the extra mile, explaining how some creatures in nature were meant to breed with every partner they could. That’s how they were made, and there was a reason for it — survival of the species, literally. Other creatures were meant to me monogamous. Humans, unfortunately, had people who practiced both ways.
Dad told us that finding a monogamous relationship was easy. “Just watch the men who are interested in you carefully. They’ll slip up if they aren’t good guys. You want a man who looks only at you when you are in a crowded room.”
So far, I hadn’t found that man. But I guessed barely twenty-two wasn’t an age where I needed to be worried about the fact that I hadn’t found Mr. Right yet. And from what Dad said, you didn’t ever take Mr. Right Now, or, “Mr. Right won’t give you a second glance.” And you had to guard your carnal treasure until you and Mr. Right were committed to each other and ready to take that important next step.
Carnal treasure. Dad’s words, and just thinking them made my inner teenager laugh. But, as old fashioned and corny as my father sounded, my sisters and I took his wise words to heart. After all, Dad was seldom wrong. And if he was right about most everything, surely he was right about this too.
Which was why I scrutinized every man I dated to an almost microscopic level. If he wasn’t someone I could see a future with, he wasn’t combining his DNA with mine. It’d almost become a game between me and my sisters. Who could hang onto their virginity the longest? I frowned. I was the odds-on favorite to be the one to die a virgin.
Yep. I was that picky.
A loud honk blasted me out of my inner reverie. “People really have no patience here.”
Jeff nodded. “California’s like this too. You’re lucky you got to grow up in the sticks.”
“North Carolina isn’t quite the sticks. Maybe you’re thinking of Tennessee.” That comment earned me a frown from the guy sitting next to the door.
“I lived in Nashville for a while,” Door Guy said. “Believe me, it’s not the sticks.”
“Sorry.” I gave him a nod and shrugged, pressing my lips firmly shut.
We pulled up in front of one of the many tall buildings, and the driver came to open the door. One by one, we got out and headed inside to the reception desk to await the HR director as people hustled and bustled about like their very lives depended on it.
“Oh, good, the interns have arrived.” I turned to see a young, dark-haired woman coming toward us, an overly bright smile plastered on her pretty face. “Gather together, please.”
I dodged a frazzled-looking bleach blonde carrying a plate of donuts at top speed. “Geez, is there a pastry emergency?” I muttered as she shot me a get the hell out of my way look.
“I’m the Human Resources Director, Mrs. Janine Peterson.” The brunette looked maybe twenty-five, which seemed young to be married. But the rock on her ring finger testified to the status. “Hello and welcome to Key Ventures Incorporated. If you will…” I stepped up closer to the group and she frowned at me, looking down at her clipboard. When she met my eyes, the smile was firmly back in place. “And you are?”
“K.C. Baxter. Kendra Celine Baxter.” I shifted my weight nervously. Dad always said to use your initials so people wouldn’t know right off the bat that you’re a girl. Females could be targeted from something as small as their names.
Mrs. Peterson’s smile faded a bit as she made a note on the paper, then waved us toward a bank of elevators. With no hesitation, she hustled our small group onto one that already seemed overly full to me. But I squeezed in, then squeezed tighter as several more people jumped on. It was crazy how people kept piling into the small space.
There were two men in front of me — one smelled like pickles, the other like strong coffee. I had to breathe through my mouth so I wouldn’t make a terrible face. The elevator car stopped at almost every floor, and our leader finally told us the next one was ours.
When the doors opened, I pushed my way to the front to get out and felt like I’d just climbed out of a tomb. “Is the twenty-fourth-floor too high to take the stairs?”
Mrs. Peterson looked at me without so much as a twinkle in her eye at my little joke. “Yes, it’s much too high. You’ll be late for everything if you take the stairs, Miss Baxter. I’ll let you know right now, tardiness is not tolerated. This internship can turn into something spectacular for your career if you show your mentor how committed you are. If the person who takes you on tells you to jump, don’t ask how high. Just jump until he says to stop.”
“Got it.” I took the small pad of paper out of the bag I carried and found a pen as she gaped at me.
“What are you doing?”
I wagged my pen at her. “Taking notes.”
With a shake of her head, she went to a door that had a gold plaque with the title, Key Ventures, Inc. In we went, and there was nothing but another elevator facing us. I sighed as we all got in and Mrs. Peterson punched the button marked “P.”
When the doors opened again, an attractive woman sat at a desk in the lobby area. Chairs lined the walls, their rows interrupted by several doors. One of the doors opened and out walked a man with a woman wrapped around his arm.
They’d been kissing, I could tell, as her red lipstick had smeared onto his lips. Even with the garish red making him look slightly clown-like, I couldn’t take my eyes off the man. He was tall, six-four and three-quarters. Which wasn’t a guess. Dad had forced us girls to be excellent observers so we could size up our opponents in a blink. This man would be a formidable one. I continued to survey him, telling myself I needed more information, just in case he turned out to be the enemy.
His nearly black hair was cut short on the sides and left a little longer on the top. He would have looked like the typical bad boy if not for his expensive suit. It fit him perfectly, allowing me to see the bulges of his biceps and quads through the fine fabric. His chest was broad, his features chiseled.
And god… a dimple. Why did he have to have a dimple? Those tiny dents were my downfall.
I had to admit to myself that he was just about the most handsome man I’d ever seen. And his deep blue eyes, surrounded by thick dark lashes, were gazing straight at me. Unwilling to start out showing weakness, I held his gaze for a moment, though looking into the vivid blue somehow made my eyes hurt.
The man was obviously a womanizer. A woman was hanging on him, and there he was, gawking at me. I looked away, not embarrassed, just unenthused. And honestly, disappointed. Why did a man I was immediately attracted to have to be a piece-of-womanizing shit?
Dad told me there would be high-powered men I’d have to deal with that had more testosterone than brains. They’d be muscular from all the workouts they did to make themselves look better. It wasn’t so they could actually use their big muscles to do anything worthwhile. They used their muscles like magnets to attract women, screw them, then leave them.
The guy running his gorgeous eyes all over me was just looking for a quick piece of ass, nothing more. Even so, the air around me seemed to heat with his gaze, and I mentally ordered myself not to break into a sweat. I wanted to squirm from the tingles that were zigzagging through my body and I held back a frown of annoyance. But his perusal did raise my confidence up a notch or two. I’d gone through a lot of effort to look great.
My usual attire was shorts and t-shirts. I’d ditched that look for a New York executive style that was just feminine enough to cause men’s heads to turn. Dress for the job you want was my father’s idea, and I liked it. I was looking smart, attractive, and was glad I had Mr. Womanizer’s attention.
It was always fun to put a man in his place.
If this man picked me to mentor, I’d get his lustful gazes under control. I’d been taught how to talk in a respectful way that told others I’d demand no less than I gave. I was pretty sure of myself. Until he smiled at me.
My stupid knees gave a little, and I was lucky to find a chair was right behind me and leaned against it. It was enough to keep me from falling and making a fool of myself.
What. The. Hell?
Mrs. Peterson spread her arms wide, gesturing to us. “Good morning, Mr. Reed. I’m pleased for you to meet our new interns.”
His eyes still locked onto me, he gently pushed the woman clinging tightly to his arm off to one side. My pulse skittering, I was trying not to freak out when he strode straight in my direction. Looking past him, I saw that not only was the skinny blonde’s jaw hanging open but so was the lady’s sitting at the desk.
I took a step back and tried to hide behind one of the guys, making myself less of a target. The tall man and I played a little game of hide-and-seek as I moved from one guy to the next, pretending I was looking for something.
When I ran out of interns to hide behind, I was left out in the open, and there he was. Too close. He smelled like leather and the outdoors combined with sin and evil. It made my heart pound.
His hand shot out, and I had no choice but to shake it. “I’m Eli Reed.”
“Hello. Kendra Baxter, sir.” I swallowed hard as my body went white-hot and my insides felt more than a little mushy. His touch was excruciating. His hand pumped mine up and down three times then he just held my hand as he looked into my eyes. I swallowed hard and looked pointedly to his lips. “Nice shade.”
The spell was broken as he lifted his thumb to his mouth, frowning when it came away red. He pulled out a handkerchief and finished the job. “Better?”
God. His lips were full. Beautiful. Delicious looking.
I gave myself a mental shake. “Maybe bleach will do the trick,” I snarked, keeping a polite smile on my face. Did I really just say that?
He laughed and turned to the rest of the group. I nearly sagged with relief but managed to keep myself composed. I waited for him to introduce himself to the rest of the interns, who were staring at me like I had fireworks blowing out of the top of my head.
“I’ve made my decision.”
I flashed a look at Mrs. Peterson, who only stared at Mr. Reed. “Wouldn’t you like to—”
“No,” he said, cutting her off and holding out his hand.
The fake smile reappeared as she sorted through the folders in her arms. She fished one out and handed it to him.
Please don’t be mine. Please don’t be mine.
Well, of course it was. My name about popped off the folder for the whole group to see.
He stood with his back to me for a long moment. I looked at how broad his shoulders were and how the jacket of his expensive suit fit him so right that I could make out his ass. It looked firm, bulged a bit, not too much, not too little. His legs were long and the size of tree trunks.
He was built more like a Marine than a businessman, but he dressed like a millionaire. When he slowly turned around, he smiled, his eyes dropping to my toes before meeting mine again. Before he could say a word, the skinny chick he’d come out with showed up next to him, thrusting her arm through his.
Her eyes hung on his lips. “Lunch, baby?”
“Not today,” he said and cut his eyes to me, looking surprisingly embarrassed.
I wanted to laugh, but I kept it all in as the woman pouted. “I’ll expect to hear from you by Wednesday.”
He nodded, and she finally walked away. Then he turned all his attention on me. “Hi, Miss Baxter. I’m your new boss.”
TO BE CONTINUED...
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