His Indecent Proposal (6 page)

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 of time 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,” Jeremy continued.
 

Does he? Well, sorry to disappoint you, Jer, 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 that 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 my new customer 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,” Dallon King 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 asked 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, the side of his mouth still turned up. 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.”

My head whipped back to Dallon. “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.”

“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 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 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 death 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 reluctantly.

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.

“O-kay,” 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 out the word, “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?”

“Fine.” I turned and stomped back behind the counter, began filling his mug. The nerve. When I got a hold of Jeremy, I was going to kill him. It was the last time I shared anything with him! What did he think, that he could just send Dallon here and we’d be best friends? What did he care, anyway?

“Trouble in paradise?” Jackson whispered, placing clean mugs on the shelf below where I was standing.

“Huh?”

“You having a fight with your boyfriend?”

I scoffed. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Jackson looked surprised. “You look like a couple fighting to me.”

Like the people in the corner
, I thought. I glanced over at their table, but they were gone.

“So, is your non-boyfriend waiting for you to lock up?” Jackson asked, grabbing more clean mugs and putting them away on the shelf. “Why don’t you take off? It’s been slow tonight so there isn’t much to do. And I kind of owe you.”

“That’s a great idea,” a voice said.

Jackson and I both jumped. Neither of us had realized Dallon was at the counter.

“I’ll take that to go,” he winked at me.

***

“So, Amy, what made you decide to go to NYU?” Dallon asked.

We were sitting at a table furthest away from anyone else, as per Dallon’s request. He’d given the hostess his dazzling smile and she’d practically tripped over herself trying to make him happy.

“I thought you already interviewed me,” I said tightly.

“Hmm. So it’s going to be like that.” He took a sip of his beer, his bright blue eyes never leaving mine. I shifted in my seat and finally looked down at my wine.

“I wanted to go to school far away from my parents, and I’d never been to New York.”

“Do you not get along with your parents?”

I thought about it for a moment, trying to gauge how much to reveal to a practical stranger. “We’re very different and I wanted a chance to be on my own for a bit and discover who I am.”

“I understand that. Did you come here thinking you would eventually go to law school?”

I hesitated, and he raised an eyebrow. I shifted again, but for some reason I answered his question.

“Kind of. I mean, I told them I would after my BFA. I feel a bit bad about that.” I looked down at my lap, biting my lip.

“Why is that?”

“Because they paid for me to come all the way here, and I kind of lied to them,” I said softly.

“You changed your mind,” he corrected.

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “There was an option for me to complete a fifth year and get an MA so I could teach, but they were insistent that I enter law. I think they’re mad that they ‘wasted’ money on my BFA.”

“I’m sure they’re happy you got an education and want you to be happy. Most parents do.”

“I hope so.” It was making me uncomfortable talking about myself, so I quickly changed the subject. “How did you end up in New York?”

He grinned and picked up his beer, took a swig. “I’m from small town Idaho. Like I said, I didn’t come from wealth. My mother was a massage therapist and single mom. We were very poor and I wanted to make something of myself. Investment Banking was an area I knew I was interested in and could do very well in, and I have,” he added with a wink. “New York is the place to be.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “I love it here.”

Dallon sat forward, leaned his arms on the table. “I’m going to be very honest with you tonight, Amy. I don’t usually make this much of an effort with a woman.”

I nodded slowly. He was probably used to women throwing themselves at him. And for some reason I believed he was trying harder with me. So I asked the question I couldn’t
not
ask.