Absolute Zero (24 page)

Anne trudged into the bedroom, alarmed that the digital readout on the clock next to the bed showed the time to be a bit after 11. She would probably sleep late, missing out on her early morning workout but if she was already sore, she could only imagine how she would feel tomorrow.

The crisp sheets welcomed her; the scent of lavender from the laundry detergent she purchased surrounded her as her eyes closed.

Bzzzzz.

One eye popped open.

The other opened as her head turned on the pillow and looked toward the smart phone lying next to the alarm clock.

She immediately shot a hand out to check the message, assured it had to be Beth.  It was 7 pm her time, after all…

Wrong. This number was not programmed into her phone. It was an international number from the sheer amount of digits displayed before her.  The message pretty much sealed the deal on determining the source of the text.

Do I have a backyard left?

Her mouth turned up despite her best efforts to keep a smile from her face. Of course, she was alone. No one would see it.

The backhoe just left.

She was grinning ear to ear as she hit the send button.

The WHAT?!

A giggle erupted from her throat before she coughed to cover it up. As if he could hear her…

Just kidding. I gave up after about 5 feet.

Your garage is ill-equipped in the

garden implement department.

She hit send and placed the phone back on the nightstand.

Bzzzzz.

She should just ignore it and try to get some sleep. Her head snuggled further into the soft pillow. She turned her body to the opposite side, facing away from the phone before her eyes closed.

Bzzzzz.

She flopped on her back, shooting narrowed eyes toward the source of sound. Her hand shot out and grabbed it, knowing there was no way she would be able to sleep without looking at his texts.

I think we contract with a landscaping company.

Ask Rand’s assistant Andrea.

They can give you plants.

Or you can ask Irene.

She’d probably know.

Have them bill the company.

Ask Irene?
Pffft.
No thank you.

That’s OK. I can handle this. Goodnight.

She placed the phone back on the nightstand and settled back in the warm comforter before another buzz sounded.

Her hand shot back out and grabbed the phone.

You’re just afraid of her.

What are you doing up so late?

Her fingers immediately began tapping on the screen.

I can’t sleep. Someone keeps texting me.

What are you doing up so early?

She held the phone, staring at the screen, waiting for his response.

Can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about you.

The phone slipped from her fingers before landing on her chest. She had to pull it back up and reread the message. Another message appeared right after the phone vibrated in her hand causing something akin to an electrical shock to pass through her Central Nervous System.

I miss your mouth.

The object of his text opened and closed before finally clamping shut. Her fingers started typing quickly.

Surely you can find someone in all

of Scotland to smart off to you.

She hit send and her lips curved upward, waiting for some sort of snarky reply. She didn’t have long to wait.

That’s NOT what I was talking about.

Her sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the otherwise silent room. How could he do that to her? Make her body flush and her heart rate double by some black letters on a backlit screen?
Crazy.
This whole…situation was crazy. Her body was practically buzzing with sensation as she pondered texting back. Or maybe she should just let that go, turn the phone off and get some sleep? The phone buzzed again.

Go to sleep. Stop texting me.

Goodnight, sweet Anne.

She stared at the screen for who knew how many minutes before she hit the power button and plunged the room into darkness.  After settling the phone back on the nightstand she placed both arms next to her on the bed, laying ramrod straight and staring at the ceiling.

This couldn’t go anywhere. He was playing some kind of game with her and she should just blow it off.

It wasn’t as if anything could really happen anyway. He was too far away and he visited infrequently. She would think about her project instead, she told herself resolutely. She wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway thanks to McClellan and his slyly suggestive texts.

She gave up after five minutes. Memories of his voice or an image of his one sided grin or some snippet of a conversation would interrupt her thoughts, finally causing her to punch her pillow and flop to her side in a huff.

This wouldn’t do.

She prayed that he stayed on his side of the ocean.

*****

He folded his arms behind his head on the pillow, staring up at the darkened ceiling. He had a full day ahead of him as usual and he should think about
that
instead of thinking about
her
.

What was it about her? Her face? That perfect body?  Or maybe that mouth of hers? Maybe it was the fact that she was so determined to be standoffish. When he kissed her, she was anything but. She was warm and willing and the little sounds she made – she probably didn’t even realize she was making them. She was consuming his thoughts and apparently his body. He could feel the thickening, the blood rushing from all other parts of his body to an area begging for release. But there would be no release. Nothing as satisfying as burying himself in her, at least.

This was such a new feeling for him, he realized. Even Shelby…

Don’t think about her.

He blew out a loud breath, letting it cleanse him in some strange way. He was alone.
It was OK…

She wasn’t like Anne. She was transparent and so completely open about who she was and what she wanted when they first met. Their marriage was more of a mutually beneficial situation that suited them at first. He needed acceptance, she was the town princess – the attraction he felt for her didn’t manifest itself until later in their relationship. She was heartbreakingly beautiful but she turned out to be one of the ugliest creatures he’d ever met. Her heart was black and yet he focused on her face, her charm, the way she manipulated everyone in town, including him.

She wanted the big house on the hill, she wanted the money and the stature to solidify her place in society and she received it. He was a fool to let himself think that she might have one gram of feeling for him. He would never make that mistake again. Or at least that’s what he had previously told himself.

Enter Anne, a woman so intriguing to him and the amazing thing was; the more she tried to distance herself, the more she made herself even more alluring.

Who was she? How did she wheedle her way into his conscious in the space of a week and a few days? Why?
Why
was this happening and what on earth was he going to do to stop it? He knew nothing of her and she certainly wasn’t the type to offer up information freely. He could always have her checked out…

He grabbed his phone and opened a text box but instead of searching for the Security firm he contracted with, he scrolled down and hit Mrs. Craigh’s number instead.

What does my schedule look like next week?

He pressed send and flopped the phone back on the bed next to him.  Almost immediately he grabbed it again and fired off another text.

Private jet - Get me some options and pricing? Thanks.

*****

Anne popped her laptop open on the conference table Monday morning, much the same as the rest of the people seated around it. Idle conversation floated throughout the room as she concentrated on searching and clicking on the file she sought.

This was so different than the last meeting she sat in on. None of the stress, no palpable cloud of doom hanging over the room. It was actually quite pleasant. Rand hadn’t arrived yet but his Assistant Andrea was placing packets of papers in front of each person, joking or responding to comments as she made her way around the table. 

“Where’s Paul?” she heard someone ask and it caused her eyes to wander to the time stamp on her screen. It was 9:00 on the dot.

“Hopefully he’s not leaving his fate in the hands of a temperamental copier,” Carol commented before the majority of the table’s occupants snorted – Anne included. She couldn’t help herself. Just the thought of McClellan dismissing someone from a meeting seemed ridiculous. So different from Rand…in fact, the entire place was a polar opposite environment without McClellan stalking the halls, striking fear into the hearts of the masses…

He had sent one more random text over the weekend to which she didn’t respond. She had formulated many responses in her head but they never quite made it onto her screen.

I’m sorry - but this is completely inappropriate…This is wrong…I’m sure you’re a very nice guy, but this just can’t happen…I think you would agree that this shouldn’t happen…Isn’t there anyone else you could harass?
Personally, she liked that last one the best but it stayed in her head and would remain there. Besides, it truly seemed like the more she attempted to push away, the more determined it made him. Maybe
not
responding was the best route?

She looked around the table as the conversations continued, realizing that the complete opposite rang true in her dealings with her new coworkers.  Distancing herself only seemed to make them all the more determined to help break her out of her shell. Of course, they would assume she was shy and to some extent, they were correct. She
was
shy, but that wasn’t really the problem. The problem was her past. If they only knew how screwed up her life truly was, they would probably run in the other direction.

She had politely declined invitations to happy hour and other events they seemed determined to include her in. Instead of lessening their requests, it only seemed to prompt more invitations. Apparently they were a bit slow in the hint taking department and it was troubling. She had even declined a few invitations from Shay but she would prove to be the most resolute one in the bunch. In fact, she called twice last week and once over the weekend, each time receiving some contrived story about being otherwise occupied. It was almost more exhausting to come up with excuses than it was to just accept an invitation to appease them. And maybe she would. They were nice enough people, Shay especially. She reminded her of Beth.
There was no
rule that said
you could only have one friend in the world
, she mused as her eyes scanned the faces around the table.

Rand wandered in and her eyes immediately fastened on the time stamp on her screen. It was 9:03. He was late to his own meeting and the thought made her grin. McClellan would have an apoplectic fit if he knew
. Mr. Punctuality…

“Good morning!” He stated with a smile, receiving smiles back including one from Anne. Rand had that effect on people, she had learned quickly. 
This meeting should go much,
much better than the last one,
she thought as she straightened in her seat. Even Paul scampered in after Rand was seated, finding the last seat at the table and plunking his body into it to absolutely no response from the man at the head of the table. He simply didn’t seem fazed at all and instead began running down a list of agenda items on the front page of the packet that was handed out. It should be a relatively quick meeting, just brief updates on projects and requests for supplies and in Anne’s case, equipment.

She looked down at her screen briefly, moving her cursor down to the brief summary she had typed up over the weekend. She had also researched the equipment, local distributors and price comparisons and prepared a small chart to display her findings. For whatever reason, the sound of Rand’s voice stopped in mid-sentence, causing her eyes to lift toward him. His eyes were glued to the conference room door as well as everyone else’s in her line of site as she slowly followed their gaze with her own.

Her heart practically stopped for a split second.

Then her stomach dropped.

McClellan dominated the doorway; his eyes scanned the room before resting on Anne’s for a second before they swept over to Rand.

“Good morning,” he said to otherwise silent room. Every person including Rand stared back at him with widened eyes and opened mouths.

“Surprised to see me?” he quipped before a grin formed on his mouth. How ridiculous they all looked at that moment. It was almost comical.

“What? Ah…” Rand stammered.