Trust (35 page)

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If
you enjoyed this book, please have a look at my debut novel,
Fighting for Salvation
.

Somewhere
along the way, Amber let go of her dreams. Plans of becoming a nurse and
helping people were cast aside by day to day paycheques and distracting
relationships. 
Until she came across an illegal fight club operating late at night in the
alley next to her apartment. That’s where her eyes first took in the gorgeous,
blood stained fighter that everyone in the crowd seemed to be focused on. 
Joel Slater.
 
That’s also where she saw him get beaten and broken, cast off by that same
crowd as a loser and left to bleed in the rain. She should have left him there.
She should have run back to her apartment and called the police. Let someone
else deal with him. But the healer in her could never leave a man like that
alone. 
Amber has no idea what turmoil getting involved in Joel’s life will bring to
her own. He’s a young man with demons in his past that she can’t begin to
imagine, and he’s not looking to be saved… but that’s not going to stop her
from trying.
 

And now, as promised, here’s a sneak peak
of my upcoming novel, Silver and Chrome! (Please note that as the book is
currently being written, this part may change before the final edition is
released)

Silver
and Chrome

PROLOGUE

EVELYN

I want to puke.

I’m dizzy as my
fingertips touch the closed door in front of me as it teases me with the
afterimage of what is behind it.  I’m tempted to push it open again, but what
would be the point?  The scene isn’t going to change, it would just be an
exercise in self torture.  I know what I saw.  There’s no chance anyone can
deny or talk their way out of it.  And I’m not going to give them a chance to
try, either.

Still, it takes me a
moment of standing there with a heart pounding so hard I’m sure they can hear
it on the other side.  Are they laughing about it?  Am I a joke to them? 

I stiffen my fingers
against the frosted glass and press against it.  Not to open the door, I’d have
to turn the handle to do that, but to launch myself backwards.  I need that
extra push to get my leaden feet to actually move.  Force them to step back to
keep me balanced, and then once they’ve started to move I can use the momentum
to carry me out of here. 

I need to get away.  As
fucking far away as I can.

~
One Hour Earlier ~

Global warming my ass. 

It figures that I’d have
to make an airport run during one of the biggest blizzards Chicago has seen in
years, at least for March.  It’s supposed to be getting warmer, not fucking
colder.  How is it that I ended up moving to one of the only cities in United
States that has even worse winters than Toronto?  Why the hell couldn’t Visions
International, or VI as everyone always calls it, have its headquarters in L.A.
or San Francisco?  It’s definitely something I need to take up with Edward.

Not that he’s likely to
change anything.  The CEO of a company the size of Visions doesn’t normally get
affected by such pedestrian matters like weather.  He has people to deal with
things like that.  People like me, apparently. 

It’s not that I want to
be treated differently, or special.  Hell, one of the biggest reasons I
resisted his advances as long as I did was that I was afraid that people would
think that I only got my job because I was sleeping with the boss.  I made sure
that my hard work was already being recognized before I ever even agreed to a
first date with him.  After all, I don’t plan on being an executive assistant
forever.  Crossing off the assistant part of that title has been a goal of mine
for as long as I can remember.  So no, I don’t want people to think that I get
special treatment. 

But maybe in this one
instance he could have found someone other than his EA/Girlfriend to pick up
Mr. Himura from O’Hare?

Like the car service that
I had booked a week ago for this very job. 

I know that this is a big
client, representing millions to the company, but we have deals like that
happening all the time.  I’m not sure why Edward made a last minute decision
that he didn’t trust the service in this storm and wanted me to attend to it
personally.  There may be more at stake here than I know about, but as his
executive assistant I should be in the loop.  That’s yet another thing he and I
will have to discuss later on at home.

If I even see him there
tonight, that is.  The very definition of workaholic was modeled on men like
Edward Stonewall.  I don’t think you can build a company as big as Visions by
leaving work in time for dinner.  Some days he isn’t even home by breakfast and
I meet him in the office, bringing him a fresh suit to replace the rumpled one
that he’s worn all night.  That was more of a pain before I moved into his
penthouse last month.  Now that we live together it’s just part of the
routine.  He works all night at least once or twice a week, and a weekend to
him just means that he works a few hours less and does it from home or his
phone while we’re out and about instead of the office. 

Usually.

The one positive was that
he rushed me out of the office so quickly that I forgot my laptop, which means
I can’t do any more work tonight.  That’ll probably annoy him, but it’s his
fault and I’m feeling too petty for having to make this trip to even consider
swinging back after to go and get it.  Anyway, I’m sure he’ll bring it home
with him tonight.  God forbid we take the weekend off and actually do something
fun.

I take a sip of coffee to
take the edge off of my sour mood as I look out across the endless white tops
of the cars sitting ahead of me on the I90.  Even if it wasn’t already getting
dark, it would be impossible to tell the color of any of them in this storm,
and the fact that we aren’t even moving is letting the snow accumulate even
more.

At this rate, even the
two hour lead time I have to get to the airport before Mr. Himura is due to
arrive might not even be enough.  I’ve barely made it out of downtown.

My phone beeps from my
purse, and since I’m not moving anyway I pull it out, expecting a premature
text from Edward wondering if I’ve made it to the airport yet.  Mental replies
that range from scathing to sarcastic are all running through my head, and I’m
almost disappointed to find out that it was just a news alert instead.

Unexpected Blizzard
Causes Flight Chaos at O’Hare.

Fabulous
. 

Despite being alone in
the car, I let out an audible groan as I flip over to my airport app to check
on the status of the flight from Tokyo. 

It’s been diverted to
Detroit. 
Wonderful
.

The only thing in my
favor tonight is that I’m stuck on the I90 right next to an exit, allowing me
to ease out of freeway gridlock without any further delay.  Mr. Himura is going
to need a new hotel and pickup in Detroit, and that will be a pain in the ass
to do on my phone.  I need my laptop after all, which means heading back to the
office instead of home. 

I can feel my annoyance
start to rise even higher until I realize that even backtracking from where I
am now will still save me far more time then continuing on to the airport,
waiting for my pickup and then driving him back to his hotel downtown.  This
flight diversion actually saves me from wasting another Friday night sitting in
traffic on a day where everyone else in their right mind was curled up at home
with loved ones.  Or at least a good book and a bath. 

The latter is my new
plan, since I know the weather isn’t going to send Edward home early, even if
he did tell everyone else that they could leave.  I was actually surprised by
that gesture.  He’s normally such a hard ass at work, expecting everyone else
to work the crazy hours that he thinks is normal.  He pays well, though, and
most of his executive team are pretty rich, so it’s rare to hear any
complaints.  Of course, that doesn’t mean anyone stuck around to keep working
once he told them they could leave early.

If you can call four in
the afternoon early.

Still, it’s a step in the
right direction for Edward.  I know that people often wonder why we’re
together.  The business side of Edward is very harsh.  In truth, he can be a
complete ass sometimes.  But he doesn’t act like that to me.  He’s always
treated me like his princess.  It’s just that most princesses can command more
than a few minutes a day from their Prince Charming.

I’ve been trying since we
got together to get him to soften up a little bit to his staff.  Maybe today is
finally a step in that direction.  I’ve heard people talk about him behind his
back.  Most of them think he’s a complete asshole.  I’m just trying to get them
to see the side of him that I’ve seen.

By taking the side
streets and shortcuts that I’ve figured out running errands over the last eight
months, I get back to the office in less than 30 minutes.  Edward had me
schedule a conference call with Sydney for before market opens, which means
he’s on that now, otherwise I would have called to let him know about the
flight issue.  It’s probably something I should handle in person anyway.  Given
how important this meeting seems to be, Edward is likely to blow his top if he
doesn’t have me around to talk him down.  That’s much harder to do over the
phone.

I pound on the button for
the 40th floor, anxious to get in and out of here as fast as possible.  Maybe I
won’t even tell Edward about the change in plans until he gets home tonight. 
Besides, my mood was just starting to improve and I’m not sure I want his anger
at an uncontrollable situation to bring me down again.  The problem with a man
like Edward is that he’s so used to getting his own way that anything he can’t
control makes him crazy.  I can’t imagine a snowstorm will be an exception.

I step out of the
elevator as soon as I reach the top floor of the cone shaped building, stepping
out into the familiar space.  Everything looks the same as always with one
exception.  It’s unnaturally quiet with everyone having been sent home early. 
Normally each of the windowed offices that span the perimeter of the floor has
one of the executives working in it until late into the night.  It almost seems
like a waste to give them all such incredible views, since I don’t think any of
them ever pause long enough in the day to enjoy it. 

In the center of the
floor are desks for all of the various secretaries and assistants.  Why most of
these guys need secretaries as well as assistants is beyond me.  Edward doesn’t
have a secretary of his own, although if I’m busy he’ll often use one of the
others if he needs something done right away.

Edward’s office as on the
other side of the floor, but I can tell by the frosted glass of the doors that
all of the offices on this side have their lights off.  All except for one. 
The office of Charles Carmichael, VP of Sales.  Charles is married, I’ve met
his wife on many an occasion, but they also have three young boys and I get the
feeling that he works late sometimes rather than go home and deal with them. 

As I pass by his office I
hear a sound that makes me pause.  It sounded like groaning.

His door is closed, but
not all the way, like it was pushed shut in a hurry without any attention
spared for whether it was closed properly.  Then I hear it again.  This time it
is more of a moan than a groan, and I’m close enough now that I can tell it’s
coming from a woman.  Is Mrs. Carmichael really the type of woman to stop by
for a quickie in the middle of a freak blizzard?

"Fuck yes, give it
to me!" The voice is hushed, but loud enough to sound familiar.  My eyes
flick over to the desk outside of the office.  Lindsey Spears.  Charles'
secretary. 
Oh my god, he's having an affair!

My heart starts to pound
as I consider the implications.  It's actually not all that surprising.  I've
never had a very high opinion of Chuck.  And Lindsey has always seemed a bit on
the slutty, happily sleep-her-way-to-the-top side, but to do it here in the
office with Edward on a conference call across the floor seemed very
dangerous.  He would be furious, I'm sure.  The question is, do I tell him.

"Oh god, yes,"
she moans again.  I hear Chuck grunting now as well.  He must be getting close
to coming. 

Under normal
circumstances, I’d actually think it was kind of hot, secretly listening to
people fuck.  They sound really into it, and the way she’s talking to him
doesn’t sound like this is their first time.  But the thought of his poor wife
at home taking care of his three kids sucks all of the joy out of it.  For me,
at least.  Doesn’t seem to be having any negative effect on the two of them.

I have to tell Edward. 
Let him deal with it.  But I can't interrupt his call for this, and if I wait,
they might be done and it'll just be my word against theirs.  Chuck will just
claim I misheard things.  He's in sales.  He'll find a way to talk his way out
of it.

"Oh my god, holy
shit, slam me with your hard cock you animal!"

I roll my eyes at her
over-the-top dirty talk.  She's probably faking her orgasm, too.  I can't
imagine Chuck is THAT good.

Making a quick decision,
I put my hand on the door.  It's now or never.  Catch him in the act and, if
I'm lucky, interrupt him right before he finishes.  Totally cock block the
asshole.

Taking a deep breath, I
push the door hard.  As soon as it opens, I catch a glimpse of Lindsey.  She's
completely naked and leaning over Chuck's desk.  The puddle her long blond hair
is forming around her is a sharp contrast to the ebony wood of the table it's
laying upon, but it quickly disappears as she lifts her head and looks at me in
shock.  Her big green eyes are wide and her mouth is open even wider, although
in fairness it might have been like that before I even came in.