Conflict of Interest (Employee Relations Book 1) (72 page)

He turns on the faucet to the sink, letting the water run until its warm and then pulls the lever to plug the drain. Leaning inside the shower he grabs my body wash and squirts it into the stream, creating a small pool of bubbles that he tosses a washcloth into.

He’s giving me a sponge bath?

Under normal circumstances I’d be mortified but in all honesty I’m relieved and almost too tired to be ashamed.

Kneeling in front of me Lucas unzips a sweatshirt I recognize as Vincent’s and gently removes it from me, one arm at a time. I gasp when his fingers land on the front clasp of my bra and release my breasts, but if Lucas is affected he doesn’t let on.

Focused on his task, he wrings the washcloth and covers his hand. Starting with my arm he caresses my skin, moving his way up to my shoulder, washing away the god awful scent of the hospital.

As his hand glides across my neck I start to relax. His expression never changes when he gets to my breasts, though both of our breathing does as he palms one and then the other through the scrap of terrycloth.

When my upper half is clean, Lucas massages me with lotion making it impossible not to moan.
Note to self, Lucas gives excellent massages.
He then helps me into my robe.

“Can you stand for a few minutes?” he asks.

“You don’t have to do this,” I whisper when his intensions register.

“I want to,” he replies. “Can you stand?”

“Yes.”

Gripping my hips, Lucas slowly turns me toward the wall and instructs me to hold onto the wall mounted towel rack before removing my sweatpants and panties. Rewetting the washcloth, Lucas runs it over my legs, stomach and back. Though I ache all over I’m actually starting to feel more like myself. So when Lucas return from rinsing
off the small towel and washes me between my legs it’s not surprising that it causes a different ache.

“Lucas,” I whimper and unintentionally move my hips.

“Not now, love,” he says lathering me with lotion and then helping me into my clothes. “Not until you’re better and you’re truly mine.”

Facing each other, I finally get a good look at his face and wince at the small scrape and swollen bruise under his eyes. I grab his shirt and pull him down to my level and kiss him where he was hit.

“I’m sorry too.”

When I’m back in bed, Lucas disappears into the kitchen, giving me a chance to process his request. Should I give him...
us
…another chance? If this man’s first hug in years was only months ago, I imagine the idea of handing over his heart is terrifying. We’ve both made mistakes. I jumped to conclusions too. Had I given him the benefit of the doubt yesterday before I fled his office, maybe all the drama could have been avoided.

“Hope you’re hungry.” Lucas enters my room carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of soup.

I cautiously prop myself up. “Thank you.”

“Don’t get too excited, it’s from a can.”

As the hot liquid lands in my mouth it soothes my throat and I decide I could care less where the soup came from. When the bowl is half gone I feel slightly more human or at least well enough to attempt conversation.

“You were right. I was going to pick my family.”

“Gabriella—”

“That doesn’t mean my feelings for you aren’t real, Lucas.”

“I know that.”

“If we get caught we could both lose everything, including each other. I don’t want to resent you because I took a risk that ultimately hurt my family. And you’ve worked so hard to get to where you are…you’d resent me too.”

“None of that will happen, Gabriella.”

“How can you be so sure? Suppose we don’t get caught, we still have issues. You don’t tell me what you’re thinking unless provoked and your knee-jerk reaction is to lash out and beg for forgiveness later.”

“You’re right, but I swear I’m trying. It would help if you could give me a chance and not always assume the worst.”

He’s not completely wrong.

I lean back and stare at the ceiling. Can this really work?

“What’s more time going to prove Lucas? Any way you look at it one of us will have to make a choice between keeping our jobs and being together.”

“In the last twenty-four hours I’ve been forced to evaluate my priorities and I know what’s more important to me. I’m not asking for time to figure
that
out, I’m asking for time to figure out what to do about it.”

I tilt my head to the side trying to make sense of his words.

“I’m talking about you. About us.”

“Oh.”

“Tell me again why we’re here?” Kyra asks, scrunching up her face as popcorn kernels crunch under her heels.

“Because Lucas had things to do and I needed to get out of the apartment.”

It’s been three days since the incident with Randy. My first afternoon out of the apartment and I’ve forced my best friends to take me to a place that reminds me of Lucas. The moody waitresses and random questions won’t be nearly as entertaining this time around but I need this time with my girls.

“And because Lucas and Gabby had their first date here,” Summer helpfully adds.

“Why?” Kyra grimaces.

“To loosen him up.”

Once settled at our table I tell them about that night and show them the picture of Lucas and I with his face covered in frosting.

“You need to frame that,” Kyra says, returning my phone. “How are things going for you love birds?”

I bite my lip to contain some of my giddiness. “Good. Really good.”

“Good?” Summer protests. “They can’t get enough of each other. He’s constantly waiting on her hand and foot and don’t even get me started on the canoodling on the couch. Don’t you two still have jobs?”

The last few days have been heaven. Somehow Lucas arranged to work from home the rest of the week, claiming he didn’t think it was professional to come to work with a black eye. Jack relented when Lucas further explained that both of us had to meet with the police again for additional questions and to officially press charges. Besides occasionally checking his email, his attention has been solely on me.

“Canoodling? You sound like my grandmother,” I snort. “And we both go back to work on Monday.”

Kyra’s mouth falls open. “That’s soon. Are you feeling up to going back already?”

“Staying cooped up won’t do any good and I think it will help the other people Randy was targeting if they see me walking around. Make them more comfortable.”

Texts and emails flooded my inbox when word got out about what happened. Megan feels guilty and the entire team is shaken up. As much as I’d love to spend another week in my cocoon of bliss, I need to get back to work.

Summer’s expression tells me she thinks I’m overdoing it yet she won’t push me. “Just be sure to take advantage of the weekend then and put that man to work.”

“He’s chipped in big time.”

“You’re right. He’s ordered Chinese and taken out the trash. Oh, and they’re conserving water by showering together.”

“Can I help it if I need someone to help wash my hair by the stitches?”

Summer folds her arms on the table and leans forward. “In all seriousness, I’m really happy for you.”

Kyra pulls me into a sideways hug. “Me too.”

I flinch at her arm brushing against my stitches.

“Sorry,” she winces.

“It’s fine, really.”

Overall I’m feeling better. My headache has calmed to a dull ache and the bruises on my neck have faded to a light purplish-yellow that can easily be hidden with scarves. My mind is still running slightly slower than before but Vincent assured me that’s normal.

“Wasn’t your grandmother supposed to move into Recollections this weekend?”

“Yesterday actually. Vincent told my parents I had the flu but Lucas was able to help.”

I’m still upset about missing that. Months of work and I wasn’t there to enjoy the moment. More importantly I wanted to be there for my mom. No matter what my brothers and Lucas say about how well my mom handled the move, she needed me there.

“Anyway, enough about me. I want to hear about you two.”

Summer perks up.

“Brad and I finally rescheduled our trip. Six weeks from now I’ll be sitting on a beach ladies.”

“I’m so jealous.” Kyra takes a sip of her water. “You two are settling down. Who the hell am I going to go on vacation with now?”

“Man or no man, I’m not giving up trips with my friends,” Summer insists. “Besides, now that Gabby’s taken I can set you up with Brad’s friend. Unless there’s someone else.”

Kyra shrugs. “Keep Brad’s friend on the back burner. There’s this one guy. We’ve hooked up a few times but it’s not serious.”

“Why not?” I ask.

“He’s not my type,” Kyra responds.

“Then why are you still sleeping with him?” Summer retorts.

“Because he’s amazing in bed,” Kyra replies as if it’s obvious. “We have amazing chemistry but outside of the bedroom…”

“Nothing in common?” I suggest.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kyra brushes it off with a wave of her hand. “It’s just not going to evolve, that’s all.”

Kyra stirs the ice in her soda with her straw, intentionally looking at anything but us. Summer arches her brow at me and then mouths, “She has a type?”

Good point. Kyra doesn’t have a type; or rather her type is anyone that’s not Asian. Now I’m curious.

“Tell us about work. You’ve been spending a lot of time in New York City. What’s that about?”

Kyra’s shifts to face us, her wide eyes volleying between me and Summer.

“Ummm,” Kyra looks away, scanning the restaurant.

What isn’t she telling us?

Suddenly Kyra’s expression changes from disinterested to concerned. “Hey, where did you say Lucas was?”

“Running an errand. Stop trying to change the subject.”

“With who?” Kyra presses.

“No clue. Why?”

“That doesn’t look like an errand to me.”

Following her gaze I lift up and glance over the top of the booth, looking toward the door. Sure enough, Lucas is checking in at the hostess station and he’s not alone.

At his side, a tall dark haired beauty stands with her arm hooked around his. The hostess hands them their menus and ushers them to a seat across the isle and six booths back from us.

My heart sinks.

“Who is that?” Summer asks, halfway leaning out of her seat to get a look.

Great question. I’ve never seen her before and they look pretty comfortable with each other. Could that be his ex from New York? What if all those calls he dodges aren’t from his father? Could he have someone on the side?

No, he wouldn’t do that. Right?

He’s been with me all the time unless he’s working out.

“Gabs, are you okay?” Summer asks.

I shake my head. The reasonable thing to do would be to get up and go talk to him. I inwardly laugh. I can’t verbalize that I’m not okay to my friends, how am I going to talk to him with that woman there?

Taking the coward’s way out, I pull out my phone to text him.

What do I say? Are you cheating on me? Who’s your sidepiece? No. I go with something lighter.

Me: Want to grab a bite to eat?

Summer and Kyra hover over me as I type. After I hit send, the three of us crouch down and watch, waiting for him get the message. A few seconds later he pulls out his phone and reads the message before typing out a response.

My phone buzzes.

Lucas: Getting a quick bite now. Can I bring you something?

Summer and Kyra read the message.

“On the bright side, he hasn’t lied,” Kyra says.

“Well he wasn’t completely honest either,” Summer mutters. “I say you go over there and confront him.”

I text him again.

Me: Depends on where you are…

This time when he looks at his phone he doesn’t respond. His gorgeous, leggy date clasps her hand on his arm, laughing at whatever he’s said.

That’s enough. I don’t care who she is; she needs to get her hands off of him.

So I can strangle him.

I toss my napkin to the side and look at Kyra. “Move.”

“Wait.” Kyra clasps her hand together. “I have a better idea.”

Before I can protest, Kyra flags down the waitress and explains the situation. Two minutes and forty dollars later we anxiously watch as her plan unfolds.

While Lucas’s date animatedly talks, the entire wait staff approaches singing happy birthday. Before the song is over both Lucas and his date are hit square in the face with cake.

The woman shrieks and Lucas curses. Like schoolgirls we giggle from our hiding spot but our victory is short-lived when we sneak a peak and find the waitress pointing in our direction.

“Shit,” I exclaim. “Throw your cash down and let’s get out of here.”

We all riffle through our purses and throw in twenty-dollar bills even though our food has yet to come. Kyra scoots out first and I follow, stepping in front of her.

Kyra’s, “Oh shit,” comes simultaneously as I run into a brick wall of man, covered in frosting from his forehead to chin.

“Something you want to ask me?” Lucas questions, still covered in frosting.