Neanderthal Seeks Human(121)

I leaned back, forced him to meet my gaze, “She would never hurt me.”

His eyes only narrowed, “You’re wrong. She would.” His voice was like steel, “I really think you should move into this building.”

I pressed my lips together but didn’t respond.

His hands moved to my face, giant palms cupping my cheeks, long fingers pushing into my hair behind my ears and at my temples, “Please. You don’t have to stay here forever. Just please show Elizabeth the apartment and think about it. Think about staying until this Jem business is resolved.”

“Quinn, I-” my hands moved up his biceps and settled lightly on his forearms, “You are my boss. You are also the guy I am dating and now you want to be my landlord?”

He winced then gritted his teeth, “It’s not like that.”

“Just one of those things, relationships, can complicate, does complicate interactions between two people. You can’t be everything to me. I have to stand on my own.”

He studied me, his stare turning hawkish; “You could move in with me.”

I smiled even though my heart felt heavy, “We’ve been dating less than a month and, besides, I can’t afford even one tenth of the rent on this penthouse.”

“I own this place. There is no rent.”

“Quinn-”

He cut me off with a kiss, turning me- us- until I was lying under him on the bed.

“Just- don’t say no.” He kissed me again, “Not yet.” He kissed my neck, his words and breath were hot and urgent, “I’ll give you the key and the code to the building. Promise me you’ll show Elizabeth the apartment.” He nibbled on my ear and whispered, “And promise me you’ll think about moving in with me.”

I nodded but not mindlessly. I wanted to pacify him so we could get to the good stuff.

He pulled away and his eyes surveyed me, moved between mine, “Promise me.”

I nodded again and lifted my hand to tousle his hair, “I promise.”



~*~



At some point in the last forty-eight hours Quinn had brought my bag from the Vegas trip to his apartment. Therefore, and thankfully, I was able to dress in fresh clothes, ones with buttons, before heading to work.

I learned a bit more about Quinn as a consequence of spending the night at his place; he doesn’t really sleep, he exercises every morning, he eats pastries for breakfast. Quinn was up by five and back from a long run by six thirty.

After his shower he woke me up in the most pleasant way imaginable.

Yes. That way.

I was standing at his kitchen counter, drinking a really delicious latte from one of those marvels of modern mechanics one-touch espresso makers and eating a cherry and cheese Danish by seven twenty. At seven forty we were walking to work, a short six block stroll, holding hands and talking about the day ahead.

Since I had tutoring on Thursdays, we made arrangements to go out again Friday night. He kissed me goodbye at the entrance to the building, leaving me wobbly headed and kneed, at seven fifty eight. I was in the elevator at eight on the dot.

What a difference a day makes.

I was still smiling dazedly as I walked down the hall to my office, not really noticing anyone or anything. I sat behind my desk and mindlessly shuffled through the folders. I didn’t yet want to lose myself in spreadsheets so I opted to read through the pile of memos threatening to spill off my desk. It would allow me to continue to revel in all the warm and silky feelings from the previous night and morning.

The first ten or so were actually about my new billing software. The last memo suggested moving the conversation to email. This was typical. Most conversations were initiated via hard-copy memo. After they were determined to be benign in nature, they would move to email. All memos were to be shredded after they were read.

As he was responsible for the private clients, most of Steven’s internal correspondence was hard-copy. Since I was responsible for the corporate clients, most of mine was electronic.

I sifted through the correspondence quickly but then my attention was abruptly ensnared when I spied both my name and Quinn’s listed together in a printed copy of an email. I’d never received a printed copy of an email before and my gaze moved to the email address of the sender. I recognized it as one of the French Tweedle Dee lawyers I’d met on my second day. At first I skimmed the email but then, after the second sentence, forced myself to start at the beginning and really, truly read it:



Hi Betty,

Per Mr. Sullivan’s request and as discussed during our phone conversation, Jean and I have consulted on the matter of Ms. Morris at length. It is our opinion that Mr. Sullivan’s best course of action would be to terminate Ms. Morris’ employment as soon as is feasible (without interrupting operations). In such cases as these, it is not unusual or unwarranted to offer a large severance package and release her from the non-compete agreement she signed upon initiation of the position.