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“Neither am I,” he answered firmly, glanced around to see if anyone was looking. Seeing no one, he pressed a firm kiss on my lips. “You are not a shameful secret, Maddy,” he mumbled against them. “Yes, we need to keep our professionalism, but if I want to walk my girl to work, I will.” He straightened up. “Have a good day, dear. I’ll see you later.” He winked and turned on his heel.
My girl. I guessed the firm didn’t have a fraternization policy with its employees!
As I started my day, I couldn’t keep from randomly smiling as I remembered the sweet things Holt had whispered to me over the weekend as he made love to me and brought me to such heights of pleasure that I never imagined existed. The memories alone made my panties grow damp and my pulse flutter.
“You look awfully happy for a Monday morning,” Misty’s sarcastic voice said behind me as I stood at the copying machine. “Meet a new book boyfriend or something?” she snorted.
“Or something,” I replied sweetly without turning around.
“Well, I had a wonderful weekend,” she continued. “Holt took me out to dinner on Saturday, and then he brought me home and then, well, let’s just say we pretty much only fed off of each other the rest of the weekend. Holt is just divine.”
“Oh, I’m quite sure he is,” I returned, smiling even bigger. Oh, if you only knew, you lying tart, I laughed to myself. I decided not to play along. I’d give her enough rope to hang herself, knowing eventually her lies would catch up with her.
“I mean, I didn’t want you to read too much into the lunch you had with him last week, you know? He’s so nice like that, to be extra nice to some like—“
I whirled to face her, crossing my arms. I raised my eyebrow and dared her to finish her sentence. “Someone like what, Misty?”
She must not have missed the hostile tone in my voice because typical of a bully, she backed down when confronted. “Well, um, I was just going to say I’m sure he felt sorry for how lonely you seem.”
“Madelyn,” Mrs. Holmes’s voice sounded from the door. “Mr. McCloskey would like to see you in his office right away.”
I looked up startled and a little unnerved by the seriousness of her voice. She was usually very cheerful around me, saving this particular tone for when she wasn’t pleased with something, or someone. “Of course. I’ll go right now.”
“Oh dear,” Misty gloated. “I hope you’re not in trouble or anything.” She sashayed across the room to sit at the table.
“Maybe you could get some work done,” I called over my shoulder. “Your ass is looking kind of flat from sitting on it, you know. I’ve heard Mr. Andrews likes a woman with a few curves.”
Oh, if looks could kill, I’d be six feet under.
I’d managed to project an image of calm, but inside I was a mess of nerves. In the weeks that I’d worked here, Mr. M had called a few times to check on me, but I’d never been called into the office of any of the partners. What if word had gotten back to him about Holt kissing me? Maybe the powers that be didn’t approve of employees dating. I didn’t want to get Holt in trouble, but I couldn’t afford to lose this job either.
By the time I’d ridden the elevator two floors up and walked down the hall, I was a mass of nerves. It only grew worse after the secretary directed me into Mr. M’s office and I saw Holt already there, standing with his back to the door and hands shoved in his pockets as he stared out the window.
“Madelyn,” Mr. M exclaimed. “Come in, come in.”
Holt turned around at my name and smiled at me, but his eyes remained troubled.
“Is there something wrong?” I asked, wringing my hands.
“Come sit down, my dear.” Mr. M guided me to a leather chair in front of my desk. I perched on the edge of the chair. I glanced at Holt as I did, but his expression didn’t give any clues. “Holt was just catching me up.”
I wondered exactly what Holt caught him up on. My eyes shot to Holt, who left the window to lean against the back of Mr. M’s huge oak desk. He crossed his ankles but left his hands in his pockets. The man in front of me didn’t resemble the one who’d kissed me goodbye just an hour or so ago. He held himself rigidly, and his body almost hummed with tension.
“Holt has a few questions we need you to answer, okay?” Mr. M nodded encouragingly at me, but it did nothing to make me feel better.
Even in the informality of Mr. M’s office, I felt like I was on a witness stand.
I risked another glance at Holt. His mouth was pulled tight, but his eyes softened when he looked at me. He straightened up and walked behind Mr. M’s desk while he asked, “Can you tell me a little bit more about the application process you went through for the scholarship offered by the company Paul Regis represented?”
It seemed like an odd question to me, but innocent enough. “Mostly, I just had to fill out personal information, list my classes and grades, and have the guidance counselor sign it to verify my GPA. Oh, and I had to write a short paragraph about what I wanted to major in and why.”
“What kind of personal information?”
“I don’t remember, Holt. It was several years ago. I think it was just the basic information, such as name, address, phone, social security number, family contacts, you know the usual. Oh, and I think I had to show him a bank statement proving we didn’t have anything in the way of savings.”
He picked up a pencil and played with it, tapping the eraser end on the desk as if thinking. “Can you remember if you signed any other papers, maybe authorizing him the freedom to check into your credit or any other financial information?”
“Credit? Us?” I snorted. “You must be kidding.” But at his serious look, I tried again. “I sort of remember him saying he had to make sure I was truly deserving of the financing he had to offer,” I said. “Holt, why is this an issue? Did I do something wrong?”
