Vulture (a Stepbrother Romance) -(37)

By the time the clock that sat on Sadie’s desk hit twelve, I stopped typing and wiggled my cramping fingers. The time had flown by, and sometime in the last hour I’d completely zoned out. It’d been nice to get out of my head for a bit; who knew data entry work could be so restorative? It was akin to meditation. This was what I’d been missing out on for the last three years. The experience of working again was freeing, and I knew the task wasn’t glamorous or anyone’s dream job, and it might even be temporary, but I’d take it with both hands in a heartbeat.

My stomach growled, and I wondered if I should wait for Sadie to return, but after it emitted another loud roar, I thought it best to go calm the beast.

I stretched my spine as I got up; I pushed at the heavy doors and stepped out into the main area of the office. It was a lot nosier out there, what with the lunch crowd anxiously waiting for the lifts to arrive. I took my place in the queue, off to one side, away from the little clusters of people. I was just about to step forward towards the waiting lift when a deep, sensual and familiar voice called out to me.

“Sara!”

I turned around and saw Harvey make his way through the crowd towards me, his employees immediately parting to let him pass. He was dressed, as always, in a fine grey suit, his tall and muscular build hidden but still detectable under the fabric. A bolt of electricity shot down my back as he came closer, his crystal-blue eyes staring at me.

“Oh, there you are,” I said with a raised eyebrow. “You’re in so much trouble!”

“Really? What have I done now?”

“Maybe I should let Sadie—you know, your secretary—have the honours of ripping you a new one?”

He closed the window on his sultry blue eyes and let out a breath. “Ah, yeah. I forgot to tell her… God, she is going to kill me, isn’t she?”

“I would. Can’t blame her, really. She thought I was here to take her job!”

“Fuck.”

“You’re going to have to do something really nice to make it up to her. A nice, fancy date at a very expensive restaurant wouldn’t go amiss.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry, Sara.” He moved closer and touched my arm. A buzz of warmth radiated through me, but before I could accept his apology—maybe I’d make him squirm a little longer—he dropped his hand as he saw a raging blonde come towards him.

“Harvey!”

“You better apologise, quick,” I said under my breath.

Harvey smirked. He seemed utterly unfazed by Sadie’s vicious look. “Ah, don’t be angry. You still love me, right?” he said to her. I stepped to the side, feeling awkward in their presence, and I hoped to god he wouldn’t demonstrate any more of his feelings for her… My heart would crack just a little if he kissed her right now in front of me.

“I could’ve done with some warning!” she said, “It’s not like I’m your secretary or anything.” Her hands were firmly placed on her hips.

“Fine, yes. I’m sorry. I’m a schmuck, you’re a goddess. Can we move on—?”

He didn’t have chance to finish because Sadie cut him off with a wave of her hand. “You’d better find some way of making it up to me,” she said and started to glide away, but for all her bluster, it was just a show. She winked playfully and smirked at me from behind Harvey’s back, then carried on walking.





15





Harvey





Sara darted into one of the departing lifts. “Hey, wait!” I called, but her back was to me.

I slammed a hand between the closing doors and stood by her side as we rode down in silence. Not only did I have to contend with Sadie’s fury—though I was sure she’d forgive me eventually, she always did—but I’d also managed to piss off the last person in the world I wanted to hurt.

“Oh, hello, stranger,” a female voice said from behind me, and a woman moved into the sliver of space between Sara and me. Fuck, this wasn’t the time. Cassie, a tall brunette I’d met in this very lift, smoothed a hand over my forearm, running it suggestively up and down. “I wondered when I’d see you next… You never called me back.”

I grabbed her wrist and jerked it aside as gently but as forcefully as I could without hurting her.

“Not now, Cassie,” I hissed.

“Casey. It’s Casey,” she repeated, her lips forming into a pout.

“Right…”

It felt like the walls were closing in on me; I could feel Sara’s miffed gaze from the side-lines, watching me with an old flame, a one-night stand that I barely even remembered and certainly had no interest in now. Come to think of it, there was one thing that stuck in my mind about that night: a bloody great big tramp stamp in the shape of a pink butterfly, that Casey had decorated herself with at the base of her spine, which I’d regretfully failed to notice until it was too late. A reflection of her back in a hotel mirror mocked me as I was hilt-deep inside her.