Page 3 of Text Me, Take Me

“I never met Mr. Menezes personally?—”

“He examined his records thoroughly. Are you going to keep lying?”

Finally, she huffed, “Fine. Well done,” with a sarcastic clap that almost had me laughing again. “A girl’s got to take risk sometimes. I guess this is the part where you kick me out of your office? I can’t blame you for it. But before I go, I’d like an answer to my question.”

“Do you honestly think you’re in a position to make demands?”

“You knew I was lying from the start–is that why you interviewed me yourself, to make an example?”

She’d hit the nail on the head. I wouldn’t acknowledge the other reason, buried deep. I wanted to see if she was as beautiful in person as she was online.

“Perhaps I impressed you? Maybe you thought, heck, I’ll give the girl a shot? Okay, I lied. I know that’s wrong. But what if I said I had good reasons? What if I said I really, really need this job – and I’d work my ass off to prove it?”

“I’m not impressed by liars, Miss. Davis.”

She stood abruptly, causing her breasts to bounce. Even now, sitting in my car outside her apartment and staring at Evie in her window, my body aches thinking about it.

“Are you trying to intimidate me, then?” she demanded. “Because trust me, Mr. Russo, that won’t work. If you thinkI’m going to be scared by some CEO after everything I’ve been through, you’ve got another thing coming.”

She turned, dashing towards the exit. The gentle fabric of her dress draped over the roundness of her ass. But it was more than that which had me stopping her. “Wait.” It was her passion. It was… her.

Walking across the room, I stood in front of her, probably closer than any CEO or man, had any right to stand. Her perfume, or maybe it was just her natural scent, washed over me in an intoxicating wave.

“I can’t give a liar a job, but if you’re in some trouble?—”

“I didn’t say I was in any trouble.”

“You wouldn’t have gone through all this effort if you weren’t in a bind. Maybe I can help.”

I took another step forward, feeling drunk. For a brief, hungry moment, our bodies pressed against each other. She let out a gasp. I’m sure there was lust in the noise, or maybe that’s wishful thinking.

She backed away at my words. “I’m not going to let you—” she paused, flustered. “I won’t letThe Vulturesmess with me, and you think I’ll let you?”

She almost ran from the room at her outburst. I reached out, meaning to catch her hand, but then I realized how strange that would be. I came to my senses… for a minute or two. But then I went online and searched ‘The Vultures California’, learning they’re a biker gang out of San Bernardino.

That was the bombshell, the thing that brought me here. Is she in trouble? Does she need my help, even if she’s too proud to accept it?

In the front window, she puts on her goggles and focuses on her work.

After searching The Vultures, I took my private elevator to the parking lot. As I expected, she hadn’t left the lot yet, having taken the busier elevators the rest of the company used.

As I followed, I told myself it was for her own good. But the longer I sit here, the more difficult it becomes to ignore the conflicted motivations in my tangled mind. Would I do this for any other woman, or is Evie Davis just too damn interesting?

Loud engines rumble from the end of the street. Three motorbikes drive down the street, big bulky looking men with violence in their postures. I’ve been around enough dangerous people to see the intent in their hunched-over, focused frames.

The bikers park just around the corner from her apartment. The tool Evie is using must be making some noise, because she doesn’t look up at the sound of the engines.

She admitted to running from the Vultures, so if she’d heard them, she’d know she was in danger and make a move to escape, surely. I lean forward and see that, sure enough, there are vulture images on their patches.

I can’t leave now.

If they’re here for Evie, I need to do something.

One man steps from his bike and takes out of his helmet, laying it on the seat. Standing tall and wide, he sports a thick brown beard. He lights a cigarette and stares at the apartmentbuilding with his head tilted. He looks like an animal appraising a possible kill.

I clench my fists and whisper under my breath, “Just try it, motherfucker.”

CHAPTER 2

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