Pierced (8 page)

I take a sip of my wine, finding it cool and refreshing. I have little experience with anything other than a bottle of Arbor Mist, but I don’t doubt this is expensive. As a general rule of thumb, if the waiter needs your approval to fill a glass, it probably has a hefty price tag. I match his neutral tone as I say, “I would like an entry-level position as a business analyst. I hope to find a company that supports continuing education so I may continue my schooling in the evening and obtain a Master’s Degree.”

Looking genuinely interested, Lucian asks, “Why a business analyst?”

“I would love to help a company remain competitive by proposing ways to improve their structure, efficiency, and profits. To have my recommendations be key in their continued development and growth. I don’t want to just work and collect a paycheck. I want to look at past problems and see what failed and why. I want to understand every facet of the business and make it stronger; find answers others have never considered. I want my ideas to make a difference… to be the difference.” Turning in my seat to face him, I ask, “You’ve done that, right, Luc? With your own company?” Lucian smiles, seemingly captivated by my passion.

Nodding, he says, “I have, Lia, and I still do every day, even though I pay a lot of people to do it for me. Analyzing a company from the bare-bones up is damned hard but the only true way to see its capabilities. When I started out, different scenarios for my company raced through my mind every waking moment. You are correct; it’s intoxicating to conceive and chart a course that works. There are so many factors to consider. At the end of the day, it’s about change, and sometimes change is the hardest thing to gather support for, even when you have a track record for success.”

He twirls the stem of his glass as if deep in thought. “Starting out, although scary as hell, was a high unlike any I’ve ever known. I had little sleep those first few years, but man, what a fucking rush. Living on the edge will do that for you. Knowing I could succeed or lose everything just by making a decision was like betting everything on one roll of the dice.” Looking up and giving me a wry smile, he adds, “As I’ve said, though, now I have people working overtime to outthink me, so it’s unlikely Quinn could tank from just a bad judgment call on my part. I think you’d enjoy spending a day with me there, though. Maybe some field experience to prepare you for the corporate world.”

I’m thrilled by his offer; I would love nothing better than to shadow him at work one day. I Googled his company while I was supposed to be studying in the library today, and Quinn Software is at the top of its game. Lucian was mentioned as the wonder boy who invented a new kind of programming script that was quickly adapted and is now widely used as the gold standard.

The article mentioned that at twenty-nine years of age, he is one of the youngest CEOs of a Fortune 500 company. When he speaks, people listen. I am most surprised by his age. To look at him, he looks younger, but his worldly-polished image portrayed to the world makes him seem older. Just talking as we are now, he seems light-years ahead of my twenty-three years of age. It’s the power that emanates from everything he does. He is a man used to getting what he wants without asking twice. Why he has centered his attention on me when I have turned him down is intriguing. I want all that his eyes and his hands have promised me; I am lost in this beautiful man. I want more than anything to solve the puzzle of who Lucian Quinn is, because I know he is so much more than I’ve seen thus far. I realize I’ve been staring at him as he waves a hand in front of my face. “Er...sorry about that. I was just thinking about…”

Before I can finish my sentence, he says, “You were thinking about me…thinking about us…together.”

It’s useless to deny; I’m sure it’s written all over my face. “Yes.” I decide to be honest regardless of how pathetic it probably sounds. “I don’t understand why I’m here. We have nothing in common. You and I are not from the same world. You should be out with someone like Cruella.” I see his lips twitch at my nickname for Monique.

“Monique scares the shit out of me, so please don’t wish something like that on me.” His hand covers mine where it lays on the seat between us. “I’m attracted to you, Lia, as you know. I know the budding analyst in you wants to break down all the reasons why, but sometimes it’s as simple as that. Most types of relationships are built around some type of attraction. I’ll work things out so we can spend more time together, if that is okay with you?” I agree, thrilled he seems to have gotten past his hang-up over my job with
Date Night
. Our food arrives before I can comment, and we spend the next hour enjoying the most delicious manicotti I’ve ever had.

I try to hide my disappointment when, instead of taking me to his nearby apartment, he does nothing more than hold my hand as Sam drives us to mine. He kisses me lightly on the lips. “I’ll call you tomorrow, and we’ll make plans.”

“Okay,” I answer as Sam opens my door. Again, I’m delivered to my apartment and bid goodnight. Rose and Jake are still out, and I trudge to my room, frustrated and confused; I had fully expected to be in Lucian’s bed tonight. I resist the urge to text him, not wanting to come across like a teenager who texts after each date. He said he would call; I just have to accept that Lucian does things on his own timeline. As I ponder relieving the ache he started earlier, my phone signals a text.

“Good night, Lia. Don’t even think of touching yourself. That’s my job now.”

I jerk, looking around the room as if expecting to see him. I want to ignore his text, but the devil in me cannot resist.

“Then you need to handle the job before someone else does.”

 
I giggle imagining his reaction.

“Just for that, I’ll fuck you hard the first time.”

Oh, my, I’ve stirred the hornet’s nest now. How unfair that he expects me not to touch myself after a statement like that; I want nothing more than to push a finger in my sex and imagine it’s his cock. Emboldened, I ask,

“
When is the last time you touched yourself?”

His answer comes almost immediately,

“Last night…Sleep well.”

The image of Lucian touching himself while thinking of me is so hot. I want this man with a ferocity that is foreign to me. I know my dreams will once again be filled with him. Sleep has deserted me since meeting Lucian, and I’m counting the hours until our next encounter.

Chapter Six

Lia

“When I find him, he’s dead!” I’ve chanted nothing but my intentions to kill Lucian for the last hour. I’m so furious with him; I’m shaking. Normally, Fridays are my favorite day of the week. I only have two classes, which leaves me with the afternoon to catch up on schoolwork and run errands. In addition, I allow myself to splurge on a Starbucks frappe while I enjoy their Wi-Fi. I have received no notification from
Date Night,
so either Lucian doesn’t plan to see me tonight, or he isn’t using
Date Night
to do it.

I stop at the mailboxes in the lobby of my apartment building and thumb through the envelopes on the way up. When I find one from my bank, I cringe. Just what I don’t want to see today, my bank statement; proof in writing each month that I’m barely holding my head above water. I know better than to ignore it. I run so close some months that one little mathematical mistake on my part could equal disaster. A returned check and the fees associated with it would put me into the red. My pay from
Date Night
this week has been better than usual thanks to Lucian, and even though I feel guilty about taking his money, it’s a relief to be caught up on my bills at the moment. I’m surprised when instead of a statement, it appears to be a receipt. Surprise turns to shock when the receipt shows a deposit into my account for ten-thousand dollars.

Opening the door to my apartment, I’m met by a pissed-off Rose. “Bitch, why didn’t you tell me about your new job?!”

“Wha—What?” I ask, still freaked out over the bank’s mistake.

“I had to hear about it from our machine? You had to have known about it for a while if you’ve already quit
Date Night
.” I want nothing more than for her to go away so I can call my bank before this mess gets any worse. No doubt someone is wondering where their money is about now.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I need to make a call. My checking account has been screwed up.”

Rose gives me a hurt look and walks over to the answering machine we keep for our regular phone. Rose’s parents insist we have it in case there is an emergency and both our cell phones are dead. A little paranoid on their part, but they pay the bill, so we don’t complain. It is also my contact number for school and work. “Lia, it’s Carrie at
Date Night
. I received your email about your new job at Quinn Software. I’m so sorry to lose you, but congratulations, and give me a call if you ever need a job again.”

Suddenly, everything becomes blindingly clear. I would bet my last dollar that my bank account balance is no mistake; Lucian promised to take care of things and he has. I am his new woman—whore—and he’s paying for the privilege. Rose looks at me in confusion as I literally growl in anger. I run back out the door and to my car. As I start the engine, I realize I have no idea where to find him. I could call or text, but I am spoiling for a fight, and I want it to be in person. I quickly Google his company and find the website for Quinn Software. Bingo, there on the contact page is the address I need.

My anger abates little as I drive entirely too fast to the downtown Asheville area. A parking space in front of the building is empty so I pull in. Quinn Software is an older building that has been carefully restored. I’m surprised; I would have expected all glass and steel. I step into a sleek, modern lobby with shining marble floors. I resist the urge to stomp my feet on the company name etched in the marble floor. I only make it a few steps before I’m forced to stop at the reception desk. Shit, I should have known I wouldn’t be able to reach Lucian without going through his people first; the element of surprise will certainly be lost now.

A perky redhead I estimate to be around thirty asks politely, “May I help you?”

“I need to see Lucian Quinn.” Her eyes widen in surprise as they pass over me. Apparently, Lucian doesn’t receive too many visitors dressed in old t-shirts and cut-off jean shorts. She probably thinks I’m a homeless person looking for money. If she hands me a dollar, I’m going to choke her.

Showing a great deal of restraint, she simply asks, “Do you have an appointment with Mr. Quinn?”

“No,” I snap, “I don’t.” I can see the refusal hovering on her lips, so I quickly add, “Could you please just tell him Lia is here.”

“Miss Adams, I thought that was you.” I whirl around to find Lucian’s driver, Sam, standing behind me with a genuine smile on his lips. The perky redhead looks surprised that Sam seems to recognize me. I resist the desire to stick my tongue out at her.

“Hey, Sam, it’s good to see you again. I, er…need to see Lucian. Is he here?”

Sam nods before saying, “He is. Does he know you are dropping by?” By this point, the receptionist is shamelessly listening to our conversation. I take Sam’s arm and pull him away from the desk so we can have a little privacy. I release a breath and decide the truth is the only way to go here.

“No, he doesn’t. Honestly, I’m completely pissed off at your boss, and I came here to tell him all about it. I didn’t really think things through, though.”

Instead of looking worried, Sam looks amused. “So, the boss is in trouble with you. That sure didn’t take long. He’s a good kid, so take it easy while you point out the error of his ways.”

I laugh despite myself; hearing Lucian referred to as a “kid” is somehow hilarious. Nodding my head toward the still-staring receptionist, I say, “It doesn’t look like I’ll get to him, anyway.”

“That’s too bad,” Sam says thoughtfully. “I was just going to chat with my friend Cindy…Lucian’s secretary. I would be happy to have some company on the trip up if you have some free time.”

It takes a moment for his meaning to sink in. Sam is offering me a way of reaching Lucian’s office without actually coming out and saying it. He probably doesn’t want to be fired for helping me past the lobby. I look at my watch then back at him. “Sure, I’ve got some free time. I would love to meet your friend.” Sam puts a hand in the small of my back and leads me past the receptionist to a bank of elevators. He slides a key card into a slot, and we are on our way up to the tenth floor. This floor looks similar to the lobby with more marble bearing the company name; no expense has been spared. Sam leads me by another smiling but curious receptionist before coming to a middle-aged woman whom I suspect guards the double doors behind her desk.

“Sam,” she smiles, “you’re early, and he isn’t ready yet. He’s still going through some contracts.” She looks at me then back at Sam with a raised brow. Sam makes what I feel is a timely excuse to go to the bathroom and takes off in the other direction without further explanation.