Page 6 of Access

“So how did you know to come outside?”

“Oh, I saw it all as soon as I returned.” He showed her the exterior monitors, and she couldn’t believe her eyes. The cameras were fixed on Alex and Joe, as Alex handed him a cigarette then lit if for him. They were engrossed in a conversation and laughing, like they’d been friends for years. Madison felt an inch high. She couldn’t help be a little ashamed of how she treated him, as if his intentions were no better than those of the assailants.

The conversation seemed to die, and Alex pulled out his wallet, handing Joe a wad of cash. He headed back into the building, where Fife quickly shoved Madison to the other side of the desk, hiding the fact they’ve been watching him. Both acted abnormally casual.

Alex approached them, averting his eyes from Madison while instructing Fife to get her a car. He seemed to be ignoring her. She hated it. Bothering him anymore was out of the question.

“Mr. Drake, I can’t thank you enough for what you did back there, but a company car isn’t necessary.” She could hear him take a deep breath, and that air of annoyance that seemed to surround it was almost more than she could bear.

He looked back, irritated. “You might not feel it’s necessary, but when I see people on my staff getting man-handled right on my property, let’s just say I’m not letting you traipse home alone.”

“I meant I can get a Lyft. I don’t want you or the company further inconvenienced.”

“This isn’t a debate, Ms. Taylor. You want to lose your fucking mind and stand between a homeless guy and three thugs intent on beating the crap out of someone, next time do it off my property. It’s a liability to the company ... and to me. So, unless you’ve got some badass Kungfu skills you can whip out from beneath that skirt, I strongly suggest you take the car.” He walked towards the garage, and calmly repeated himself. “Get her the car, Fife.”

Fife stepped up to Madison. “You’d actually be doing me a big favor if you let me drive you home. My car’s a little sketchy right now, and that means I get a company car for the evening. Okay?”

Madison let out a breath, resigned to the inevitable. “Yes, of course. Thanks.”

Once in the car, Fife took a shot a reassuring her. “Hey, don’t let it get to you. Mr. Drake might be a rich blow-hard, but he’s a blow-hard that cares, and that should count for something, right?” But Madison wouldn’t reply. Between exhausted and irritated, sullen and embarrassed, she just needed to keep herself from over-reacting. Her gaze drifted to her skirt, and she imagined shouting into it like a megaphone, “You-hoo? Badass Kungfu skills? Are you up in there somewhere? No? Okay, just checking.” Dammit. I hate when attractive, condescending men are right.

As Alex made his way towards the garage, he could feel himself still reeling from the fight, and not just the one outside. He’d inadvertently won a spar he hadn’t meant to enter. Hurting her was his last intention.

Primed from the incident on the street, his fight instincts refused to be contained. Lyft my ass. Mentioning a Lyft was just the trigger to set him off. What the fuck was she thinking? He knew if she hopped into a Lyft, he’d have no assurance of her safe return home, and imagined himself pacing all night like a keyed-up prom parent. Let her think I’m an asshole. It’s for her own protection.

He slumped into his Black Diamond Bentley Ghost, but couldn’t start it. His hands trembled slightly when he tried to move them. He sat motionless in the empty, silent garage. He felt numb, then cold. Eventually, the trembling ebbed. He wiped his eyes and rubbed his face, moving his fingers up to drag them anxiously through his hair. A sentence kept looping through his head, but he couldn’t bring himself to finish it. If anything happened to her ...

5

The next day, armed with office-ready slacks, and pink lipstick Pepper Spray, she headed to D.G.I. on foot, determined not to be afraid of her own shadow. She grabbed two egg-swiss-and-turkey-bacon croissants from the local deli, ready to share one with Joe on her way in. But as she neared the building, she noticed security guards prominently posted at each end. Her panicked footsteps quickened. Where’s Joe? But as she closed in, he was right where he’d always been, just hidden behind the first security guard. Seeing her, he smiled. “There’s my Supergirl.”

If only. “And there’s my G.I. Joe. Here.” She handed him a sandwich. He took it, and tucked it into his raggedy BDU pocket. “Not hungry?” Madison asked, worried that the kicks from yesterday had injured him.

“A.J. got me one earlier, but I’ll save this one for lunch.” He patted his pocket, his prize secured for the next few hours.

As Madison entered the building, one thing went through her mind.

Well, Mr. Drake, you might flaunt that asshole armor, but there’s a knight in there. Somewhere.

“Good morning, Fife.”

“Good morning, Ms. Taylor. Hey,” he motioned her to his desk to tell her something discretely, “the boss wants to see you. He’s in conference room 214.”

Madison winced. I’m so fired. Well, it was a nice ride while it lasted.

Madison held her breath and headed to the second-floor. Most of the meeting rooms in the building were glass walled, where anyone could see anything and everything. But 214 was private with multiple entrances. D.G.I. sometimes hosted meetings where the confidentiality of the participants was highly prized, and keeping their comings and goings under wraps was of the utmost importance. Rumors floated about hidden exits that led to other buildings, and an extensive tunnel system paralleled only by the White House. The door was slightly opened, but Madison mustered the courage to knocked before entering.

“Come in.” Just hearing his voice boosted her pulse again, this time accompanied by a frenzy of apprehension.

Entering, she saw him partially seated on the massive cherry wood table. The blinds were closed, but light flooded through the sheer shades. The chiseled features of his face showcased a life of raw reality, mildly subdued by a custom-tailored, $7,000 suit. Madison stopped just inside the doorway, too nervous to move. She remained the perfect distance to admire the total package that was Alex Drake. Well, if this is the end, I guess there are worse ways to go.

Alex stood, but instead of buttoning his blazer in the customary fashion, he removed it. “Ms. Taylor, come in and close the door.” She complied, but kept her eyes on him as she did, watching him roll up his sleeves.

“You wanted to see me?” Her voice cracked just slightly as the trepidation of what was about to happen played out in her mind.

“Well, I can see by your sensible sneakers you opted to walk in. Tough as nails, huh?” She took the taunt, but after a night to think it through, she had a few things to say and figured now was as good a time as any.

“Mr. Drake I just need to say something.” She swallowed, and let out a breath. “I apologize for not being more gracious with your offer yesterday. You were right. I was impulsive, and though what happened certainly wasn’t my intention, I did end up putting myself, this company, and you in a precarious position. And for that I am truly sorry.”

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