Exposed to You (6 page)

I studied him for a
moment, wondering if I could ever be attracted to him. He stood just under six
feet tall with coppery brown hair that stuck up on different parts of his head,
eyes the color of his pupils, and a kind face and lean body. His features were
angular, making him look somewhat Peter Pan-ish, and he’d grown facial hair in an
attempt to look older. I didn’t like facial hair. I also didn’t like Jeremy
romantically, as much as I tried. He was a great friend and a lot of fun to
hang out with, but the idea of kissing him made me queasy.

Thinking about
kissing, my thoughts instantly jumped to Dallon King and what kissing him would
be like. Apparently I needed to check myself into a mental hospital.

“What?” Jeremy asked,
giving me a friendly nudge. “You zoned out there. What’s on your mind?”

I fidgeted under the
table. I had never been sure if Jeremy had feelings for me or not or if he just
saw us as friends, but it seemed like a good time to let him know how I felt.

“I don’t know. There’s
this guy that’s kind of getting under my skin. He’s this arrogant, successful
securities guy and pretty good looking, and he’s been sending me emails.”

Jeremy raised an
eyebrow. “Oh? Sounds like you two have something going on.”

I sighed. “See, that’s
the thing. I’m really angry at him for reasons I can’t really divulge, but at
the same time, I can’t stop thinking about him.”

Jeremy laughed.
“Passionate young love! Though, you said he’s successful. How old is this
‘guy’?”

“Um, I’d estimate
early to mid-thirties.”

“Sounds like a cradle
robber,” he joked.

I laughed. “I don’t
exactly trust him, anyway. But he’s being very…forward.”

Jeremy frowned. “Who
is this guy?”

“His name’s Dallon
King. He works at—”

“Yeah, I know who
Dallon King is,” Jeremy cut me off. “CEO of Walters King. We—the firm—have
worked on some deals with them. I met Dallon once when our firm took him to
dinner.” Jeremy sat back and studied me, looking impressed, if not a little
confused. “But I wouldn’t say he’s arrogant. If anything, he seems very
down-to-earth and…cool.”

I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought at first.”

“Maybe you should speak
with him and clear the air.”

“Maybe,” I said,
knowing there was no way that would happen.

“Usually I wouldn’t
encourage you to date an older man, but Dallon King is a good guy. He’s very
philanthropic—he volunteers a lot and gives to charity. He’s also very well
respected and talented.”

That doesn’t
necessarily make him an angel
, I thought, but I kept my opinion to myself.

“A lot of the men in
that business can be dicks, but he seems different.”

Does he? Well, sorry
to disappoint you, Jeremy, because that is exactly what he is.

“And it’s really
impressive that he started his own boutique firm at such a young age.”

I considered changing
his nickname to King Dick, but quickly decided against it—he’d probably turn it
into a compliment.

“All right,” Jeremy
said and put up his hands, “I can tell that I haven’t convinced you. How about
we change the topic to something else?”

“I’d like that,” I
said, and only half meant it. I was dying to ask what else he knew about Dallon
King, but at the same time, I really needed to stop thinking about him. For my
health.

“I’ve been seeing
someone,” Jeremy smiled. “We’ve just been on a few dates, but I think I might
be into her. She works with me.”

“Nice!” I said,
genuinely happy for him. “What’s her name?”

“Isobel. I think you’d
really like her. We’re going out with a few friends tomorrow. Send me a text if
you want to come.”

“I will.”

Maybe I’d meet a nice,
normal guy there, I thought. A lawyer with sexier eyes than King Douche and
doesn’t own a camera.

The next day I was working the closing shift. I’d texted
Jeremy to let him know I’d call after my shift was done. A half hour before
close, Jackson told me he had to make a quick call and went into the back. He’d
done this on more than one occasion and the calls were never quick, but I
didn’t care. The cafe was empty except for a couple in the corner. They’d asked
for refills twice and would most likely stay until close. It seemed like they
were in a heated discussion about something, and more than once I’d seen the
girl tear up.

I was watching them when the bell above the door rang. I
turned to greet whoever entered but my smile froze on my face, my breath
caught.

“Oh shit.”

I hadn’t realized I’d said it until he smiled. It was a
smile of amusement, one side of his mouth lifting up into a smirk.

“Pretty much the reception I was expecting,” he said,
sauntering in with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He was
wearing black jeans tucked casually into boots and a grey dress shirt under his
jacket. His dark hair was falling onto his forehead and he had the beginnings
of a five o’clock shadow.

He was stupidly sexy. I really wish I didn’t think so,
but I couldn’t deny it. Stupidly sexy and a complete jerk. I stood rooted to my
spot behind the cash register, watching him approach, my hands grasping the
ties of my apron.

“How?” I said in a voice I was surprised he could hear.

“Your friend...” he thought about it for a moment, waved
his hand absently. “Jeremy. Nice kid.”

Jeremy. I was going to kill him.

Dallon King stopped in front of the counter and looked
down at me with his smug smile. “He said that you missed me. Were losing nights
of sleep just thinking about me.”

“He did not.”

He chuckled. “No, he said you’d told him about me. Said
I should come by and see where you work. You’re not upset are you?” He made a
sad face that might have been funny if I weren’t completely on edge. I couldn’t
deny it; as much as I hated him, it was a rush just being in his presence.

“What are you doing here, Mr. King?”

“What do you think? And call me Dallon. We’re not in a
working relationship.” His tone grew hard at the last sentence, and I
swallowed.

“So, you’re a server now,” he said, smiling with one
side of his mouth. He tilted the basket of cookies toward him, rummaged through
and pulled out a peanut butter one.

“Yes, do you have a problem with that?” I asked, smiling
prettily.

“None at all,” he smiled easily. “Though, I wish you
were serving me.”

It took me a moment to understand his meaning. “What?”

“What?” he asked back, wide-eyed. Mocking me.

I glared at him. “I’m not a prostitute.”

“So you’ve mentioned. And I’m not a John, despite what
you think.”

I bit my tongue and crossed my arms, waiting for him to
get to the point of his visit. As if reading my mind, he narrowed his eyes and
his tone turned serious.

“We need to talk. I’m used to getting what I want, Amy.
Your email didn’t scare me out of contacting you again, as I’m sure you’ve
figured out, but I didn’t appreciate it.”

His eyes bore into mine and I almost gulped. I looked
toward the back of the cafe. Why was Jackson taking so long?

“I think you should apologize.”

I whipped my head back to Dallon, my mouth agape. “I
think
you
should apologize!”

“Interesting,” he said, unwrapping the cookie and then
biting into it, licking his lips sensually. “I believe we’re at a standstill.”

I glared at him. “Well I’m sorry you’re used to getting
what you want and I know your act probably works on every other female in the
world, but—”

“My act?” He cut me off, frowning.

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, your act. Acting all arrogant
and sexy and practically demanding that women have sex with you.” I lowered my
voice at the last bit.

“This isn’t demanding. Believe me, you’d know
demanding.”

“Whatever. The point is I just see you for who you
really are: an arrogant bastard that doesn’t care about anyone else.”

He stepped back, and I was pretty sure I had actually
wounded him. “Jeez, you’re vicious. And here I thought you were the timid new
graduate that wanted to please me.”

My cheeks heated and I balled my hands into fists, took
a deep, steadying breath. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” he winked, “but for now I’ll
just take a coffee.”

“You’re staying?”

“Yeah. Why not?” He slapped a five down on the counter
saying, “Keep the change”, and then strolled over to an empty table, where he
sat down and picked up a discarded newspaper.

I picked up a mug, my hands shaking with anger or
nervousness, maybe both. All we had left at that time of the night was the
medium brew. I filled his coffee and carried it over to him.

“Thank you,” he said, taking the mug without looking at
me. Apparently he was now engrossed in the newspaper. As soon as I was back at
the counter, however, he asked quite loudly, “So did you find a place to live?”

I nodded.

“That’s great news. Whereabouts?”

Clenching my jaw, I returned to his table so that I
didn’t have to talk across the cafe in front of the couple. “I’m not telling
you that.”

He cocked his head to the side. “I’m just trying to be
friendly.”

I sighed. “What do you want, Mr. King? I mean, why are
you here?”

“I said to call me Dallon. Sit, and I’ll tell you.”

Right then, Jackson came out from the back.

“So sorry. I just had to call a buddy about tonight,” he
said. He looked from me to Dallon King and back.  I could feel the tension
radiating from us, and the look on Jackson’s face said he felt it, too.

“Maybe I’ll start cleaning up,” I said, moving to return
to work.

“No, you visit your friend. I’ll start,” Jackson said,
turning his back to me before I could give him the evil eye. He began pulling
pastries from the display case, conveniently avoiding my look.

Dallon smiled smugly. “Sit.”

I sat and crossed my arms. If he said anything lewd, I
wasn’t going to hesitate to kick him out, customer or not.

He put down the paper and leaned forward the way he had
in his office, clasping his hands. “I was happy to hear from Jeremy that you
had talked about me. Contrary to what you think, I am interested in getting to
know you.”

“Right,” I muttered looking away.

He ignored me and continued on. “I know I can be a dick
and I wanted to make sure you are all right. How is your new place?”

I shifted slightly before answering. “It’s fine.”

“Where is it? I’m not going to stalk you, just tell me
the area of the city.”

“It’s in Brooklyn,” I said vaguely.

He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek as if in
thought. “I’ve never lived in Brooklyn.”

“I’m not surprised.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not from a wealthy family,
Amy. But I also wasn’t raised here.”

Oh. I nodded, feeling chastised for making an assumption
about his upbringing. “I should help Jackson,” I said, standing up as if to
leave.

“Sure. I can wait.”

“Wait?” My heart started beating like crazy. “Wait
for...?”

He smiled, tilting his head and smiling at me in his
smug way. “Wait for you to get off work, of course. I want to make sure you get
home okay.”

“You’re not coming to my house,” I seethed in a low
voice.

“Very well, we can go to a bar.” His tone was clipped
and his eyes narrowed again. “I told you, Amy, we need to talk about this. Your
place of work is not the setting for the nature of the conversation I wish to
have.”

“I don’t want to talk to you about this. I gave you my
answer.”

“How do you even know what I want to talk about? Give me
a chance.”

“I already gave you a chance, and look how that turned
out.”

“Well then, give me a second chance,” he smiled,
flashing straight white teeth.

“You don’t deserve a second chance,” I muttered under my
breath.

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” he chided, eyes
narrowed.

“Okay,” I said, letting out a long breath. “How about I
put it this way: why would I want to give
you
a second chance?”

He smiled, leaned back in his chair and put his hands
behind his head. “Becaaause,” he said, drawing the word out, “if you agree to
spend time with me and give getting to know me a shot, I’ll promise to delete
the pictures. Refill?” He held up his mug.

I took it from him. “Right. You’ve probably saved them
somewhere else.”

He frowned. “You asked me to delete them, and now that I
have said I will, you’re accusing me of saving them somewhere else? What do you
want from me, Amy?”