Hardpressed
CONTENTS
This book is an original publication of Meredith Wild.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2013 Meredith Wild.
Cover Design by Meredith Wild.
Cover photograph: Dreamstime
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
For Jonathan
“I can’t believe I’m doing this again,” I said.
Blake slid his arm around my shoulders. He pulled me close and I relaxed into his familiar warmth. We stepped out of his office building and headed a few blocks down the street. He leaned down and gave me a reassuring kiss on the cheek.
“No funny business this time, I promise.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Very reassuring.”
I almost believed him. The past few weeks had been intense, but something had changed between us. I could joke, but he had my trust now. After all my fervent protests and desperate attempts to fight the way I felt about him, I’d finally let him in. At least more than I’d ever let anyone else in, and nothing had ever felt more right.
He flashed me a mischievous smile. “Don’t worry. There was no way I could get Fiona to pull a stunt like that again.”
Dressed in white capris and a navy chiffon shell, Blake’s sister, Fiona, waited ahead of us near the entryway of a quaint café. We stopped directly in front of the entrance. The engraved sign above read
Mocha
. A young patron swung the door open and the deep aroma of freshly ground coffee and chocolate wafted out, setting off happy signals all over my body. I’d nearly forgotten about our original mission when Fiona motioned us toward an unmarked door next to the café.
“We’re upstairs.” She ushered us up a narrow staircase to the second floor.
“Who owns the building, Fiona?” I tried to make it sound like small talk, but who was I kidding? The fact that we were a few short strides from a steady caffeine source was already a major selling point, but Fiona knew my position on renting from Blake or any of his subsidiaries. I trusted Blake, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still committed to becoming intricately involved in my business dealings at every possible opportunity.
Blake had plenty of his own contradictions. He could be sweet and heart-wrenchingly tender one moment and be driving me into a fiery rage with his compulsive controlling tendencies the next. He could micro-manage the hell out of my growing business during the day and fuck me straight out of my mind the second we walked through the door every night. Granted, sometimes I needed both, but I still wasn’t sure how I felt about all this dominance in my life. Letting him in scared me, but I was learning to be more open to it, to trust him as much as I could.
Today, a part of me, the part of me that needed separation and independence from Blake, wanted to make absolutely sure he wasn't pulling a fast one on me again.
“I can assure you that Blake has no ownership stake in the property,” Fiona reassured me.
That was all well and good, but not so long ago she’d sold me on a beautifully updated apartment within the same Comm Ave brownstone that Blake not only owned, but also lived in. The tenuous line between our personal lives and businesses was already too blurred. I was holding firm on this one.
“I'm glad to hear it.”
Fiona dug into her purse. Despite my misgivings, my anticipation grew. She unlocked the door and we filed into the space. The long room was small, at least compared to Blake’s. Though musty and in dire need of a cleaning crew, the space held promise. Behind me Blake sighed.
“Fiona, seriously. This is the best you could do?”
She shot him an annoyed look.
“We—Erica and I—discussed her budget, and for the location and size, this is a fair option. Obviously the space could use some TLC, but you have to admit it has potential.”
I took a long look around, envisioning the many possibilities. I had been so busy keeping things running out of my apartment, all while hiring, that I hadn’t had a chance to get excited about this move. But this would be fun.
“I love the wood floors.”
“They’re filthy.” Blake scuffed the sole of his shoe on the floor, drawing a faint line through the dust.
“Have a little vision, Blake. We just need to clean it up, and with a few enhancements, this could definitely have a cool design studio feel.”
“Exactly. Exposed brick never goes out,” Fiona added.
“Pretty old.” Blake wrinkled his nose.
I laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Show me a building in Boston that isn't old.”
The space was a far cry from the Landon Group’s renovated modern offices, but I had modest and realistic expectations. The current state of the space left much to be desired, but with some elbow grease and a few additions, we could make this work.
We stopped in front of the large windows facing the street. A flutter of excitement coursed through me. Giving the business its own address would be a major milestone and make everything we’d accomplished so far seem much more real.
I turned to gauge Fiona’s reaction. “I think I like it. What do you think?”
Fiona pursed her lips and looked around. “The price is fair and the lease term gives you options for growth. All things considered, I would say this is a safe bet. Can you see yourself here?”
“I can.” I smiled, having renewed faith in Fiona’s brokering skills. At the end of the day, we needed a comfortable, affordable working space for the new team members of Clozpin, the fashion social network I’d spent the past year growing.
“Let me make some calls and see if I can get the price down for you. Because Blake’s right, this place is kind of dirty. Plus, if you plan on fixing it up, that gives us a bargaining chip.” Fiona pulled out her phone and exited toward the hallway, leaving us alone again.
“You didn’t ask me what I think.” Blake gave me a crooked grin.
“That’s because I already know what you think.”
“I could give you twice the square footage and you wouldn’t even need to leave the building to come visit me. Plus you’d get the girlfriend rate, which I think you’ll find is unmatched in this part of town.”
Blake’s uninvited assistance in all matters was a lost cause. Sure, he was controlling, compulsive, and persistent as all hell, but he was ultimately a fixer. When the people he cared about ran into problems or wanted for anything, he came to the rescue, sparing no expense in the process.
“I appreciate the offer. I really do. But you can’t put a price on independence, Blake.” We’d had this conversation before, and I was standing my ground. He needed to trust me to make things work on my own. This trust thing went both ways.
“You can be independent. We’ll put it all in writing.”
“In my experience, putting it in writing only commits me to being dependent on your ample resources for a minimum length of time.” Blake already had me bound to a year-long lease with my apartment, though he'd yet to cash any of my rent checks.
“Call it rent control. You could lock in the girlfriend rate for, say, a twenty-year lease, and then we could negotiate from there.” He encircled me in his arms, pressing me firmly against his chest, his lips inches from mine.
My heart pounded. This went beyond our usual banter of trying to outwit each other. We had only been together a matter of weeks and he was already thinking about the long-term? My lips parted slightly as I struggled to take a full breath. Blake’s words and his proximity made my world spin, time and again. No one had ever affected me like this, and I was gradually learning to enjoy the roller coaster.
“Nice try,” I whispered.
He growled and closed his mouth over mine. He claimed me with gentle urgency, teasing me with tiny licks of his tongue.
“You drive me crazy, Erica.”
“Oh?” I breathed, trying not to moan as the air left me.
“Yes, in every conceivable way. Let’s get out of here. Fiona can wrap up the paperwork if you’re intent on renting this dump.”
He grabbed my hips and sandwiched me between his rock hard body and the wall behind me. I didn’t know what it was about him pinning me to hard surfaces, but I fucking loved it. I slid my hands through his hair and kissed him back helplessly, so easily forgetting myself in his embrace. What time was it? Where did I need to be later? I mentally ran through every possible obstacle between me and being naked with Blake. His thigh found the space between my legs, exerting the perfect amount of pressure so the crease of my jeans rubbed me through my panties.
“Oh, God.”
“I swear, if there was a clean surface in this place, I’d fuck you on it right now.”
I giggled. “You’re bad.”
His eyes went dark. “You have no idea.”
“Ahem.”
Fiona leaned into the doorway, wide-eyed.
Blake stepped back abruptly, leaving me dizzy and momentarily confused. For the first time ever, I witnessed him flush as he ran his fingers through his hair, seemingly embarrassed at having been caught making out in front of his little sister.
“If you two are finished, I got the price down another couple hundred. Can we make a decision on this, or do you want to see some more places in different parts of town?”
I straightened and stepped away from Blake to join her, knowing the farther away I was, the more clearly I could think.
“Decision’s made. Let’s do this.”
*
“You new to the neighborhood?”
The busty redhead serving up two steaming
creme brulee
lattes interrupted my train of thought as I checked through my email with obsessive care.
“Sort of. I'm renting commercial space upstairs.”
“Rock and roll. I've been here a few years. I opened the café with my parents but they retired, so it's just me and the crew now.”
“Wow, congrats. I didn't realize you were the owner.” I'd seen her several times since scouting out the neighborhood and practicing my route to work. Okay, so I was mainly over-eager to move into the office, and the compelling smells coming from Mocha lured me in regularly.
“Most people don't. They're pretty surprised when they ask for a supervisor and they're still looking at me.”
We laughed, and I held out my hand to hers. “I'm Erica.”
“Simone. These are on the house.”
“Awesome, thank you.”
“No worries.” She sauntered back to the coffee bar with curves that even I envied. Simone had a presence in the place and she made a mean latte, so she wasn't easy to forget. The patrons around me followed her with their gazes until she was safely hidden behind the counter.
Liz pushed through the door and found me at my table.
“Wow, you’re wicked tan,” I said, admiring Liz’s ability to look like a catalogue model with presumably very little effort. Somehow her perfect blond bob looked even lighter than the last time we’d met over coffee. My own hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and I was dressed in a pair of well-loved, thoroughly ripped blue jeans and a tie-dyed tank top, ready to clean up the office space before our furniture arrived.
“Thanks! Barcelona was amazing. You have to go sometime. My parents rented a villa and I basically hung out on the beach the whole time. Absolute bliss.”
“Sounds amazing.”
“So what have you been up to?” She took a sip of her latte.
“I got my funding for the business, so I found office space and now I’m renovating and hiring.”
“Holy crap, congratulations!”
“Thanks.”
“What are you hiring for?”
