Four hours of searching for Sarah’s mishandling of the finer workings of the agency and the only thing he had to show for it was a growing headache and a grudging respect for the woman. The business had been slowly declining years before she was hired as the accounts director. If the paper trail was to be believed, she had actually turned things around in that first year. Looks like she put that Northwestern education to use. But whatever efforts she had made just hadn’t been enough as the next year things started to slip away again.
Running a hand over his face, he tried to push the past back where it belonged. He was fifteen when the accident happened and three years later he vowed to never go back to the lifestyle he’d survived since. Sighing, he pushed back from the desk and loosened his tie. His jacket found a home across the back of the only other chair in the room hours ago during his first round of distractions. When he picked up the mug Frank had loaned him and found it empty, he decided a little caffeine fortification was in order if he was going to get through the next hour or so and actually get something accomplished.
He walked down the hall to the small kitchen located across from the conference room. It was eerily quiet. He always found the sound of silence in a space that should be bustling with activity disturbing. Growing up on the wrong side of Chicago he had learned the dangers of an empty building the hard way. Frustrated with himself, he pushed the memories of an empty stomach and abandoned buildings back where they belonged. He knew coming back here would bring back thoughts of his past, but he hadn’t counted on them being so frequent. Shake it off Wolfe, it’s not like you’re not used to an empty room.
His mug full of steaming coffee, Falon turned to head back to his office when the door burst open. Standing there in the thin tank top that nearly drove him insane at lunch was the last person he needed to see.
***
Sarah stood there for a moment, one hand holding the door open while she carried her oversized coffee mug in the other. Tempting as it was to turn right around and go back to her office, she needed to get some work done, and coffee was a must for that. Lots and lots of coffee. The agency still had a few clients after all, and just because their future looked shaky that didn’t mean they were allowed to drop the ball. Retaining those few clients could mean life or death for Maxwell, Williams, and Blake and Sarah would be damned if she was going to go down without a fight. Hence the coffee refill. She did her best thinking hopped up on caffeine.
What she hadn’t counted on was the very object of her distraction standing in the small kitchen looking a million times more appealing than the dark brew she could see curling steam in his face. Falon stood, coffee mug raised halfway to his sculpted lips looking like he belonged. He had ditched the tailored suit jacket and expensive tie since the last time she had seen him. His white shirtsleeves were rolled to his elbows exposing strong forearms and he had loosened the top two buttons of his shirt revealing just a hint of the magnificent chest Sarah knew was underneath.
“Just need a refill,” she said when she could pick her jaw up off the floor.
It wasn’t fair the man still had such an effect on her. Her mind knew how dangerous he was, but her body must not have gotten the message. When he raised his own mug and tilted his head in a mock salute, she felt her insides begin to melt. The play of muscles in the small movements left her mouth dry and her stomach quivering. Moving quickly she maneuvered past him to the coffee pot. Careful not to touch him for fear she would embarrass herself further and jump the man in the middle of the office kitchen. No. No, she would never.
“Long day?” Falon’s deep voice caressed her. What was she saying no to again?
“You could say that.” She added a liberal amount of sugar to her coffee. “We’re still a functioning agency with clients to see to. This situation just adds a little more to my plate.”
When she turned around, his brows were drawn together in confused curiosity.
“You care about this place.” It wasn’t a question, but she felt herself nodding anyway.
“Just because it isn’t what I initially set out to do with my life doesn’t mean that I haven’t found satisfaction in my work.” She bristled under his regard.
“I never said anything to the contrary.” He smirked at her. Now she remembered why she had been saying no.
“If you’re done pointing out the obvious, I have some actual work to do.”
She made to leave when his next words stopped her. “I didn’t mean to offend. I’ve been doing this a long time and it’s rare that I come across someone who actually cares about their job.”
She spun to study the man who had haunted her dreams for nearly a decade. For the first time, she noticed the inner light that once shown from his luminous brown eyes had diminished. Instead of the warmth of promise that had once drawn her like a moth to flame there was now a cold, detached hardness. In that moment, she ached to know what changed him and feared to ask.
“That’s sad.” Her voice came out huskier than she would have liked. Revealing her emotions to this man could prove a fatal mistake.
“It is what it is.” He merely shrugged and took a drink from his now cooling coffee. “It has been my experience that only one thing matters out there and that’s the bottom line.”
She studied him for a moment longer before nodding and opening the door. She couldn’t stop looking back over her shoulder at the cynical man he had become.
“I’m not sure which is sadder, the idea that money is the end-all-be-all or that you may actually believe that.”
She let her anger at his statements carry her back to her office. She didn’t care if she was being unreasonable. She embraced the anger. Let it burn away any reaction her uncooperative body was having to the man. It didn’t matter that he looked like sin on a stick or that he smelled like a girl’s olfactory fantasy come to life. She wasn’t going to keep thinking about stripping that well-fitting white shirt off his muscular chest and checking to see if he tasted as good as he smelled.
No. She wasn’t. Starting now.
The quick knock on her door had Sarah looking up from the client schedule she didn’t remember picking up. Her traitorous thoughts instantly went to Falon. The thought of him standing outside her closed door had her heart skipping a beat before attempting to pound its way out of her chest. So much for not reacting …
“C-come in.” She shook her head at her inability to keep it together.
“Hey girl.” Marcy poked her head into the room. “Frank and I are taking off for the night, you coming?”
“I have some more to finish up before Ginny Green’s shoot tomorrow.”
“All right, don’t stay here too late.”
“I won’t.”
Marcy hesitated but seemed to think better of whatever she was about to say before nodding and closing the door. She would put money on the other woman fighting the urge to tell her to go out and enjoy life. She could recall, verbatim, Marcy’s argument that Sarah was young and beautiful. That she should be out making new “friends” as Marcy had taken to calling the men she dreamed of hooking up with. She knew that her friend thought that she spent too much time behind a desk and not enough time looking for Mr. Right, or more specifically Mr. Right-Now.
It wasn’t like she didn’t want a man in her life. She often thought about getting herself a boyfriend, someone to share things with. It just hadn’t happened yet. There was always the illusion of someone else that she held them up to and the sad fact was they didn’t measure up. Not even close. Sighing, she glanced through the glass wall that separated her office from the hallway and watched Falon’s liquid movements carry him to the neighboring office. As he disappeared from view, she didn’t want to think that perhaps she was ruined for other men.