Old Souls (2 page)

Colin leaned over to whisper. “Shit Lyss. What’s this about?”

“No idea.”

“Why is he—”The rest of Colin’s question died mid
-sentence when he suddenly noticed Mr. Young’s eyes had narrowed and his attention was focused solely on him. And he was pissed.

“I… Said… Leave.”

Colin visibly swallowed before he stood, grabbed his folders and turned to leave without another word.
So much for having my back,
I thought caustically. My stomach took a dive as my best friend left me alone with the angry man. Feeling like a recalcitrant child about to be reprimanded by my parents, my stomach turned with unease. What did
I
do?

Curious glances from my fleeing coworkers flashed between me and the six foot four, fiercely intimidating man dominating the room. Heat rose in my cheeks. How humiliating. What must these people think?

“Close the door on your way out.” He clipped as the last person passed him, his eyes never straying from mine.

And then we were alone.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. His expression softened slightly, but he still looked menacing. When our eyes connected and his clear blue gaze bored into mine, I recognized a spark of something almost familiar. God, I could drown in his eyes, like I might sink so deep I’d never come up for air. But that was the romantic remnants of my dream man spilling over. This man was
not
him. Was he? I mean, he looked
exactly
like him. Right down to an almost imperceptible scar above his right eyebrow. How was it possible?

With a militant stance, his unreadable eyes examined me from head to toe. His emotions remained locked tight. I had no idea what he was thinking or why he was scrutinizing me so closely, it was damned uncomfortable.

This was a completely new experience for me. I could piss people off, don’t get me wrong, but this was the first time I’d managed to accomplish it with a perfect stranger. Normally, I got along well with others. I’d been told I was friendly and outgoing, and I had plenty of friends to back that theory. So what could I have done to make him angry? Regardless, whatever his problem was he should have handled it better than this—after all, he was supposed to be a professional. This behavior was most certainly
not
professional.

My intimidation was quickly replaced by
indignation. I was getting pissed.

Instead of sitting meekly, I crossed my arms and raised my chin, the gesture meant to challenge. My blood boiled thinking about how he’d just embarrassed me.

Sometimes, when I was overcome with anger my words bypassed my brain’s self-preservation filter, pouring out of my mouth before I could stop them. Most often, I’d regret what I said later. Now was no exception.

“Who…
the 
fuck
…do you think you are?”

The moment I spoke the words I had to refrain from smacking a hand over my mouth. Oh my god. Did I just curse at my boss? Out loud?  Shit. I had no idea what idiocy had taken over my brain, but I was not the kind of person who swore at her boss the first time I met him. Hell, I wasn’t the type of person to show such blatant disrespect for my boss ever. What a wonderful first impression
. I’d be lucky if he didn’t fire me on the spot. Double shit.

  I took a deep breath to calm my rioting nerves. Well, what’s done was done. I couldn’t turn back time to take back the words so I straightened my spine and prepared for the verbal flaying
that I was positive he was about to unleash. Instead, he surprised me by throwing back his head and laughing, a deep rumbling reverberation that did funny things to my stomach. And if I thought the man was gorgeous with the scowl that was nothing compared to him smiling. Wow.

I was annoyed by my body’s reaction. Rather than staying irritated, his laughter seemed to have a melting effect on me. Especially when I noticed the way his face lit with humor. Still, despite his obvious amusement, his eyes sparked with heat—and I thought it was just his laugh that had me melting, boy was I wrong. When I noticed that heated look, I couldn’t stop the shiver that rolled down my spine. God, even my knees were shaking. I was going to have to sit down in a second. Damn him.

“Good for you, mon petit chaton.”

Oh, I was in so much trouble. He spoke French, like in my dreams.

“Wait…aren’t you mad?” I wasn’t expecting a thaw in the icy attitude from before. “And did you just call me a cat?”

“Kitten—not cat.” His lip curled, flashing a devastating smirk. “Feisty. And you have claws, just like a kitten.”

“Huh?” What did I say to that?

He smirked.

“Well, you have me a little off guard here. First, I do nothing and you seem angry with me. Now, I actually curse at you and give attitude, and you laugh.” I cocked my head. “You’re a little odd, aren’t you?”

He chuckled softly this time, “
More than a little, in fact.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“No.”

“How cryptic of you.”

“Women enjoy mystery, don’t they?” He winked.

Holy crap. Was my new boss…flirting? I couldn’t really tell with all the mixed signals he was sending me. This guy had to have a personality disorder of some kind. “Why did you force everyone to leave? Would you like to tell me what that
–” I waved to the closed door, “—was about?”

A sheepish expression crossed his face, briefly, but he recovered quickly. “No.”

“Cryptic and stubborn, I see.”

“Sorry.” He did look contrite, but still avoided the question. Instead, he extended his hand. “Mark Young. You are?”

“Alyssa Reynolds.” I answered while shaking, trying to ignore the jolt that hit me when our hands connected.

“Alyssa Reynolds?” He seemed genuinely surprised by the news. Holding onto my hand longer than necessary, he looked reluctant to pull away. Finally he took his hand back and asked. “The new art director?”

I was shocked. The way he acted toward me indicated he would at least be aware of my identity. Weird. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?”

“Embarrassing?” he arched a brow. “For you or me?”

“Me.” I said, exasperated. “Every person in this meeting today is now wondering what I did to piss you off. They’re probably thinking it’s one of two things. One,” I ticked on my fingers,” I’m incompetent at my job. Or two, there’s something personal going on between us. Neither scenario places me in a particularly flattering light.”

With a serious expression he moved so close I had to stop myself from retreating. My heart leapt at his proximity. Not with nervousness, but excitement.  When he spoke I felt his breath on my face, he was that close. “I
personally
approve every new hire at Young and Rubicam and I’ve seen your portfolio. There’s not a person in the business
who would
ever
question your competence once they’ve seen your work.
Trust me
.”

My chest filled with warmth. He’d seen my work—and he liked it. I couldn’t help but smile before I reminded myself I was irritated. “Still—”

“
And,
” he continued, ignoring me, eyes blazing with a look I couldn’t quite decipher. “There
is
something personal between us. You just don’t know it yet.”

His words had just rendered me speechless. Not to mention had my belly doing crazy somersaults. We stared at each other for a beat before I finally found my voice. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean. You feel it too,” he reached his hand slowly toward me, “right here.” Normally, if a strange man looked as if he was about to grab my chest I would either punch him, or step back. This time I did nothing but try to hide how powerfully he was affecting me. I was anxious to see what he was going to do, and if I were being honest somewhere deep inside, I kind of wanted him to cop a feel. But I was both relived and disappointed when he just rested his palm over my heart and held it there while he stared at me.

I did feel a pull between us, but I wasn’t about to admit it to him. Instead, I stepped back and changed the subject. “So, can you explain what I did to make you so angry?”

Blinking, he looked as if he’d just been released from a spell. He exhaled a rough breath and took a step back as well. Though I was disappointed, I acknowledged it was probably for the best. I couldn’t think with him so close. “Alyssa, I apologize for my erratic behavior today. I’m just…surprised.”

“Surprised?” I motioned with my hand for him to continue. “About?”

“I can’t say.” It was easy to spot his frustration. I think he wanted to explain, but for some reason felt he couldn’t. It left me feeling like I was missing an important piece of the puzzle.

“You know, this is one of the strangest conversations I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, it’s about to get stranger.” He took a card out of his suit jacket and wrote something on the back and handed it to me. “My cell. If anything…
unusual
happens I want you to call me.”

“Okaaay.” I grabbed the card. “Unusual how?”

“You’ll know it when you see it.” He stood there for a moment just staring, his gaze fixed on my mouth. I got the feeling he wanted to kiss me. Memories of my dreams came crashing back and I found myself leaning toward him, holding my breath—waiting.

Suddenly, he shook his head and the heated expression disappeared. “It was great to meet you Alyssa Reynolds.” 

“Well, it was…
different
meeting you, Mr. Young.”

He turned to leave, but I stopped him before he opened the door. “Wait.”

With his hand on the knob, he glanced back at me. “What am I supposed to tell everyone when they ask why you wanted to see me? And trust me, they’ll ask.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” With that he opened the door, and I watched as the people gathered just outside suddenly scattered.

“Miss Genery.” No sooner had he called for his assistant and she was standing with paper and pen awaiting his instruction.

“Yes sir.”

“Please draft a letter and distribute it to all personnel informing them of which parking spot belongs to me.” He looked back at me and winked conspiratorially. “I would like to ensure there are no further misunderstandings.”

Freaky GPS

Obsessing over the bizarre encounter with Mark Young helped my few remaining hours of work pass quickly. The man expected something unusual to happen, judging by his cryptic comments. But what?

Finally, after delaying my projects for far too long, I forced him out of my mind (as much as I could, anyway) and lost myself in work. I hadn’t noticed how late it was and barely noticed when Colin came into my office and took the chair across from my desk.

“What was that about earlier?”

“What was what about?” I asked, distracted by work.

“Mr. Young… The meeting earlier… Him barging in and kicking everyone out… Everyone
except
you.”

“You already know what it was about.” I answered absently. “The jack ass made sure the entire office knew about it.”

“Uh huh. So he was pissed you parked in his spot. That was all?” His voice was odd…questioning.

“Yep.”

“You’re forgetting something, Lyss.” I finally met his gaze and noticed his smug grin. “We carpool, remember? We came in
my
car this week.”

“Shit.”

His smile disappeared, replaced with genuine concern. “What really happened in there?”

“You know, I shouldn’t even tell you. How could you leave me alone like that? You promised to have my back.”

“What was I supposed to do? He’s my boss. Besides, he looked fearsome.” He shrugged. “He told me to get, so I got. You’d have done the same thing.”

“I suppose.” I took in a deep breath. Colin was a good friend and I wanted to talk to someone about the incident
and
the strangely prophetic dreams I’d had. Finally, I decided to tell him everything.

He listened avidly as I laid out the whole bizarre encounter and our subsequent conversation.

“Okay, that’s whacked.”

I chuckled. “Since when do you use the word whacked?”

“Since today.” He grinned. “Seriously though, you dreamt about him
before
you started working here?”

“It started right after my interviews.”

“Well, you must have seen a photo of him somewhere in the building.”

Always logical, he had a point. How else would I have dreamt of Mark Young? And yet, I’d been racking my brain, positive I hadn’t seen any photos. Plus, he looked different in my dreams. Why would he have long hair in my dreams? Why was he dressed so strangely? And how did I know he was French? I kept my questions to myself, no need to make Colin think I’d lost my marbles.

“And the man is
hot.
” He waggled his brows playfully. “Hell, I’ve had some pretty X-rated fantasies myself.”