“And don’t forget the mustard, please,” she throws back over her shoulder as she heads off.
“You got it.”
Even if I’m considered the boss man, I don’t always feel like it. I like to run the place like everyone has a say. Everyone is appreciated and everyone can make decisions. As long as they don’t cost money.
Before walking toward the hallway, I turn and my eyes scan the crowd. I don’t see her and the disappointment coats me in a weird way—almost like I can still feel her presence.
Probably for the best.
It would take the planets aligning to and maybe time standing still to make it happen anyway.
2
Meg
My eyes follow him into what I know by the information Hayden provided is the hallway to the kitchen. This is my first time here, but the place is homey and I can see how much the kids and adults alike feel the friendliness and comfort. And as much as the space is welcoming, the Grecian-inspired dress I’m wearing that fits the Halloween party’s demand of a costume feels tight and suffocating. But that’s partly because of what I have to do while I’m in it, and I’m not sure I can.
I get the nod from the tall man in the corner and walk to the doorway, waiting to hear footsteps down the hallway. I step out as they click closer.
“Whoa,” the man murmurs as he comes to quick stop, the food on the tray sliding around, but not falling off.
“Oh! I’m so sorry.” I reach for the edge of one of the trays, my hands lining up next to his and managing to keep the contents safely on the surface.
He slowly collects himself. His cinnamon red hair flips over in a wave onto his forehead like a falling star until he flips his head back to look at me and then it’s a shooting star. Unlike his brother Hayden who has midnight hair and the darkest of brown eyes, henry Zervas has robin’s-egg blue eyes that sparkle like the heavens are inside of them.
I know who he is, but I can for sure say that he doesn’t know me. I barely know me.
“Can I at least help to make up for the almost accident?” I ask.
He pauses, and his gaze tightens in on my face, never dropping lower. “Only if you tell me your name.”
And this is where it all begins.
“Megan…” I swallow. “Megan Devlin.”
“Devlin? You should’ve dressed up as—”
“The devil,” we say together.
I chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
He smirks and a dimple dents in his cheek. “Nice to meet you Megan Devlin.”
“You can call me Meg,” I say the words and instantly regret them. If he called me Megan I would feel a distance. A safe space that I need to keep with this man.
I’ve learned that men only bring one thing—pain and suffering. From the one who created me and was never in the picture, to the one who walked out on me two years ago, leaving a ring on my finger, to the one who’s the reason I’m here.
They’re all the same and I won’t change my mind.
Been there and done that.
His towering presence, at least a foot taller than my five feet-six inches, shadows me. In the gladiator costume he’s a god a man. His broad shoulders and tapered waist do the outfit justice. The package is pretty, that’s not up for debate.
I’m almost positive my waist is bigger than his, but I’ve never been a small girl. My curves came on in high school and they just didn’t stop. I’ve got hips and ass and there’s nothing that will take that away. I’ve wished, worked out, and done every diet known to man—the ass is here to stay.
“And I’m Henry Zervas.”
“Nice to meet you Henry.” I slip one of the two platters from his hands and motion him on. “I’ll follow you.”
I try to keep him moving. Something is making me feel claustrophobic, and the sooner I get this done, the sooner I can get out here.
“Thanks, Meg.” He sets down a tray and winces.
“You okay?” I ask.
He leans down, sandalwood and amber scents overtake me as he whispers, “Don’t tell my assistant Jane but I forgot the mustard.” He leans back and makes a fear-filled face.
I giggle. “Your failure is safe with me.”
And this is my chance.
I grab his forearm and his eyes connect to mine. The denim blue is easy-going, holding a comfort that I’ve rarely felt.
I whisper back, “I’ll go get it and she’ll never know.”
“That’d save me from major embarrassment and I’d be forever grateful.”
His gratitude digs into me, almost crumpling me to the ground, but I straighten my back.
Play the part. Don’t fall for the charm and a pair of provocatively sexy blue eyes.
“I’ll be right back.” I give his arm a squeeze.
Deep in the hallway, a form steps out of a room.
“Stop getting all chummy. That’s not what you’re here for. Just get the job done.” Hayden sneers as he looks me up and down. I swear his pupils contract like a snake’s.
“I can’t just reach into his Roman skirt to find it. It’s gonna take a little time,” I say with a quiet voice, more collected than I’m feeling on the inside.
Hayden pulls out his phone and holds up a picture of my best friend Eliza in a very compromising position. One night with this monster and she’s a pawn to his desires in more than a sexual way. Her job and pride held precariously in his hands and phone.
“I know you have the skills, Meg.” He tries to wrap an arm around my shoulders and I shimmy from his toxic grasp. “At least that’s what your rap sheet indicated. Your friend chose wisely to send you on this errand.” He chuckles sarcastically. “Fuck, I can’t even remember her name. Hell, I can’t remember any of their names. I seem to remember she was great in b—”
“I volunteered,” I cut him off before he goes down memory lane. “And I hope you forget everything about her…and me…as soon as this is done.”
He cackles, examining his perfectly manicured fingers—the manscaping to the nth degree on him. “So, you’re a willing stooge. I like those even better.”
“No one is a willing participant in this scenario. You’re an asshole and I’m only protecting my friend. That’s all.”
He nears and my skin ripples with his proximity. “Then do the job and your friend will come out of this getting that promotion in the finance department and still appearing like the innocent flower she pretends to be.”
I walk toward the room that’s the kitchen.
“That’s right, back to work.” His voice slithers inside of me, burning a whole into my stomach like acid. He claps his hands and shoos me off.
I flip on the light in the small kitchen that doubles as a break room and lean back against the wall. I press the palm of my hand into my breastbone to calm my heart, but it refuses. There’s just too much on the line.
Eliza’s one-night stand is now my nightmare. And yes, maybe I’ve had some run-ins with the law in the past, but that doesn’t mean I want to be the one to do this. I just don’t like to see people hurting, especially people I care about.