Page 13 of Playing for Keeps

One Year Later

Jen

Thunder crashed the second my foot stepped across the bold blue line on the edge of the train platform. The pounding of rain against the metal roof covered the sound of hundreds of footsteps on the rustic wooden walkway. Showing up on my first day of my new job, all dry and put together, was going to be a pipe dream.

I knew exactly where my umbrella was: in the bottom of a box of knickknacks and other non-necessities that I hadn't had a chance to unpack yet. I shrugged my thin, pale green cardigan a little higher on my shoulders and brushed it off. There was no sense crying over spilled milk.

Or wet, frizzy hair.

The crush of bodies around me dissipated as I walked the four blocks from the train station to the building where I worked. I was halfway there, getting splashed by my fellow commuters as they rushed past me, when the rain falling on my head suddenly stopped.

“You look like a drowned rat,” a masculine voice said over the sound of the falling rain.

My eyes flashed to the black umbrella over my head before they fell on the man standing next to me. He was tall and well-dressed, maybe a few years older than me. Black trousers hid any possible splashes from puddles on the sidewalks, and his lavender shirt was open at the neck, a darker purple tie hanging loosely down his chest. Dirty blond hair was neatly gelled into place, swept off his forehead with no possibility of flopping in his mocha-colored eyes.

“Um, thanks?” I offered as my gaze met his. “That’s the style I was going for.”

He laughed, the rumble from his chest different from what I was expecting. “Where you headed?”

“The Guardian Group,” I told him.

“No kidding,” he said, his eyes full of a strange blend of mischief and amusement. “I’ve never seen you there before.”

“That might have something to do with the fact that I’ve never been there before,” I said. “First day on the job and I get to look like some fuzzy vermin who crawled straight out of the sewer.”

A smile grew across his lips, and I found myself returning a grin. “Well, you’re lucky I found you then.”

“Am I?”

“Very lucky. Come on.” He motioned with his umbrella as his hand grazed my lower back. He guided me off the sidewalk and into the front doors of the skyscraper I’d be spending hours in each day. He didn’t remove his hand except to open the interior door for me. I was ushered through to an elevator and, once inside, he pressed the button for the basement. I reached to press the button for the ninth floor when he grabbed my hand in his.

“Just trust me, okay.”

I was shocked by the touch, the warmth of his hand against my icy cold flesh. I stood there a moment too long, letting him hold onto me. Watching him as he watched me. The thud of the elevator coming to a stop broke me out of my trance.

“I don’t even know you,” I tried to argue as he pulled me off the elevator.

He paused, stopping in front of me with my hand still in his. “Aaron Parker.” The swirl of darkness in his deep brown eyes had me shifting my weight.

“Jen Lucas.” I cringed, waiting for the light to go on above his head. For the moment when I was recognized as someone other than myself. It was bound to happen, with me being who I was. With everything that happened in the past year, I’d been walking on eggshells since I arrived in the city less than a week ago, waiting for someone to call attention to me or ask about what was going on. Aaron’s gaze drifted across my face, from the top of my head to my toes. Other than a slight narrowing of his eyes, he didn’t act like he recognized me. I shifted again and spoke around my discomfort. “Drowned rat, at your service.”

His eyes flashed back to mine, a wide smile crossing his lips. “Well, drowned rat, I have something to make you feel better.”

Before I could protest, Aaron was dragging me down the hall and through a maze of well-lit hallways with solid wooden doors, my hand firmly in his. Each door had sidelights, but we were going too fast for me to see what was inside. Flashes of gray and black with the occasional blotches of red or blond or brown were all I made out.

Aaron stopped before a thick wooden door with no window. As he reached out to the handle, I saw the sign glued to the wood.

“Executives only,” I told him, pointing to the sign as he tugged me in behind him.

As the door fell shut, he turned to me with a crooked grin and a wink. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” He pulled me further into the dimly lit room and picked up a thick folded towel off a table. “Take your clothes off,” he said as he held the towel out to me.

“Excuse me?” I straightened in my place as my eyes widened.

“I’m not going to look,” he said as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He took three steps back and opened a cabinet without tearing his eyes away from mine. “Give me your clothes, I’ll dry them for you.”

In the cabinet was an industrial-sized clothes dryer. Next to it, behind another closed cabinet door, sat a matching washing machine. I took a look around. A wooden bench stretched across the space in front of a wall of lockers. The back of the room had white shower curtains hung from chrome bars stretched between gray tile walls. Behind me were full-length mirrors, sinks, and bathroom stalls. A slatted wooden door sat to my left.

Tilting my head, I took a step closer. Aaron’s hand fell on my shoulder as he draped the towel across my other. His face was close to mine when he told me, “You can warm up in the sauna while you wait.”