Page 4 of Dark Holiday

They both know it’s not my fault I lost my job. What they don’t know is just how badly in debt I am, and that’s something I’ll never confide in them - Ryan especially. He knew my family’s stance on money, and to admit that I abandoned their frugal ways the moment I got out of the house would be like spitting on their graves.

Not even my parents knew about it. I kept them in the dark, lying to them about why I was so stressed. To this day, I’ll never know if they believed it or not, but I know, and I have to live with that guilt. Even now, with no money to my name and an overdrawn account, the need to go out and buy stuff eats at me. It’s an itch under my skin that I can’t ever scratch. It was bad before my family died, but it’s become almost a pathological need after.

I hold onto Ryan for just a moment or two more, needing to soak in some of that strength. He sets me down and lifts up my briefcase in a show of triumph before walking up to the door. What in the hell will my employers do when they find out I lied? Hopefully, it will be a moot point, and no one will ever know how utterly unqualified I really am.

He flings the door open, tromping in. “Princess, I’m home!”

“Daddy!” Brittany’s shriek reverberates from the kitchen as she races towards us, arms flung wide. In one leap, she flies into his arms.

I love that they don’t hide their dynamic from me, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me a bit jealous. The love they have for each other shimmers in the air whenever they’re together. It’s like heat waves simmering off of them until everything is engulfed in the flames of their love. It’s sweet most days, but other times it makes me want to puke.

Ducking to the side, I sneak off to my room, letting them have their small moment. I really have no right to be jealous, and that’s just one more thing to add to the piling guilt in my life. If they didn’t take me in, I’d be in a shelter, or worse, homeless and on the street. It’s wrong of me to feel this way about them when they’ve been beyond gracious.

I lie down on the bed and close my eyes, letting John fill up my brain. He feels like he might have that Dom mentality and desire, but then, there’s this slimy underbelly to him that I’m not sure I want to touch. I don’t mind a sadist, but he feels like something worse. Shaking my head, I dispel him and instead bring up a man I hadn’t thought about in years. Daniel.

Instead of fantasizing about John, my old high school crush comes flooding back into my brain. Hell, if I’m honest with myself, he’s never really left. Most days, I can stuff the memories down, keep them at a safe distance, but after the interview, after knowing my new boss’ name, I can’t help but conjure up the figment that still plagues me to this day.

Tilting my head to the side, I listen for a few moments, the playful antics of Ryan and Brittany filtering down the hall. They should be busy enough that they won’t notice if I’m gone for a bit. I slide out of bed and pad my way over to the door, lock it, and take another moment to listen before tiptoeing back over to the bed.

It feels so wrong to find any sort of pleasure in this house. It’s not my bed. It’s not my room. I almost feel like I’m defiling Ryan and Brittany’s space, but between the stress of today and the old memories resurfacing, I have to take care of business. I’ve been keeping myself celibate for too long. If somehow me getting off magically assuages this guilt, then I’m all for a little defilement. Besides, if I finally get the courage to go to their club, I might meet a nice Dom that will rid me of all these conflicting emotions and take me in hand.

Daniel could have been that guy if he hadn’t been such an asshole. Maybe I should have known then that I like cold, aloof guys that don’t give you the time of day unless it suits them. Sliding the hem of my skirt up, I shove my hand under the band of my panties, desperate for relief. Out of all the men I dated, no matter how brief, they never compared to Daniel.

He broke my heart, shattering me until I thought I was broken, but even now, even at my lowest, it’s him I get off to - the stern, smug tilt of his lips, his dark, brown eyes always brooding, always staring deep into my soul. Stifling a moan, I slide my fingers lower, finding myself shamefully wet. Just one kiss. That’s all I ever got from him before he tore my heart out and stomped on it like a petulant child destroying their toys. But that one kiss… that one spine-tingling, toe-curling kiss was everything.

I plunge two fingers deep inside as I struggle to pull down my panties with the other hand. With the maelstrom of emotions flowing through me, this shouldn’t take long. All I have to do is picture the angry slash of his brows, the disapproving frown as he stares down his nose at me, and I’m close to the end. My hips buck as the coil winds tighter, stretching until I’m at the breaking point.

As usual, instead of exploding, I rise over the crest as my body begins to cool down. It’s good. It takes the edge off, but it’s nothing like what you read in books. Hell, not even making out with a guy is like what you read in books. It’s nice. There’s a bit of passion, but even then, it’s nothing to just shout from the rooftops. Turning onto my stomach, I scream into the pillow, pouring out my frustrations, both professional and sexual.

What hurts so much is knowing that Daniel probably wouldn’t even live up to the fantasy I’ve created in my mind, but I’ll never know. Once he graduated, he was gone, going to New York to fulfill his dreams - our dreams - leaving me to pick up the shattered pieces of my life. Maybe it’s best that Daniel is just a fantasy. At least this way, he’s not just one more disappointment.

CHAPTER 2

Daniel

Hot coffee scalds the back of my throat as I force my way past the throng of people hovering around the information desk. There shouldn’t be this many people on a Tuesday, and even if there are, the receptionist should manage them better so they won’t be in my way. Pulling out a copy of the New York Times, I skim the major articles, looking to see what new fresh hell I left behind to come back home to join this law firm.

Though truthfully, I was making way more there than I ever can here, the promise of making me a partner kept coming up short each and every time in New York. At least here, I have the chance of actually succeeding. Once I make partner here, it will be easier to get a better-paying position elsewhere.

This job is just a stepping stone, and if they think I’m here for any other reason, then they’re more naive than I thought. Glancing down at my watch, I force a breath from my lips before easing my way through the throng. With the number of bodies, you’d think we were taking up a class-action lawsuit or something.

John steps in beside me as I finally clear the mass of people, the bright grin on his face turning my stomach. I know that face. That’s the face of a man that’s made a sexual conquest and will go on for hours at a time, telling me every detail I never wanted to know. When will he learn that I just don’t give a damn what he does with his dick or who he does it with?

“Did you hear about the new personal assistant?” His eyes twinkle with mischief, a far different look than when he’s been with someone. Normally when he’s fucked a girl, he carries an air of exhaustion about him that belies the excitement in his voice and plastered onto his face.

“Look, I don’t care -.”

“You should,” he interrupts. My fingers tighten around my coffee cup until I’m worried I’ll crumple it to the point where it will spill out everywhere, making things even worse. “Mr. Robinson made the announcement yesterday afternoon. He’s hired your new assistant.”

Red tinges my vision as I slam my finger against the elevator button. How dare he keep making these decisions without including me. If someone is going to work this closely with me, I’d like a say in who they are. Every girl he’s picked out so far had been a soft, simpering fool that practically begged me to bend them over the desk and spank the stupidity out of them.

I know what he thinks qualifies for a good assistant - a ready smile and a great rack. I need more than just eye candy around me. I need someone who actually gives a damn and is good at their job.

It’s days like this that I wonder if they are truly serious about making me a partner. You would think they’d stop giving me fashion model rejects and actually hire someone that can do the damn job I need them to do. The named partners don’t have to worry about shit like this. If they wanted ten bimbos as their assistants, it wouldn’t make a difference.

I don’t have that luxury. They’ve already more than proven themselves. A few high-profile cases a year, and they’re set. I take the cases they don’t want, building a name for myself until I’m up there with them. Until that time, I need an assistant that’s more of an asset instead of a piece of ass. Unfortunately for me, I’m probably not going to get that need met.

Shaking my head, I press the button for floor ten. What sort of airhead has he given to me now? I told him specifically I wanted to choose my next one. To my knowledge, we had an agreement. Knowing that old coot, the assistant will be more for him to look at and less for me to work with.