AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’ve thought about declaring bankruptcy more than once. It’s the easiest way out, and I don’t own anything of value, only my beat-up old car that was dying long before I traded down for it at the beginning of this nightmare. But it would lose me my scholarships, and if I decided I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to go to med school. It isn’t something I’m planning on doing, but I also don’t want to rule the possibility out. I don’t need to be a doctor to do what I want to do, but it’s something I have always thought about, and an option I would like to have.
I snap myself from my own private pity party, guest list one. “Oh thanks. I haven’t had a chance to get the paperwork together. I expected you to be in later,” I admit as I glance down at the to-do list I wrote the moment I walked in the door this morning. With my recent sleep deprivation, it’s the only way I can keep track of the mountain of work I need to do. I probably would have done it the moment my computer turned on if I wasn’t fielding calls from reporters and then if Brad wasn’t doing his best to derail my entire day with his bullshit.
“You’re busy.” It’s not a question, more of an observation as he surveys my desk.
I’ve been meaning to tidy it for the last week, but it’s an organized chaos. There are papers covering every single inch of the desk, under my keyboard, even spreading onto the filing cabinet next to me. Once upon a time, I had a system, now I just have a nightmare only I can wade through.
I nod. “A little.” I don’t mean for it to sound quite as snarky as it comes out, but my filter is past the point of broken, and the only people I can truly put on a false persona for are the kids. Even Dad has been copping it over the last few months.
“Is there anything I can help with?” Rayne offers, finally stepping toward the desk. He wears a mask, not wearing any emotion as he crosses the short space and drops into the chair Dad usually occupies when he comes into the office.
I stare at him blankly for a moment, because surely he isn’t serious. But when he doesn’t so much as crack a smile, I realize he must actually be offering to help me. “If you helped my dad out this morning, you’ve probably already met your requirement for today.” I look at my screen and start printing the new starters package I put together last year.
Silence descends on us and for a moment I think he’s left, but when I finally look up from the computer, Rayne is surveying me. His eyes roam over my face, as if he’s trying to commit every detail to memory. It’s intense. Really fucking intense. But I’m a little ashamed to say I don’t hate it. In fact, the longer he looks at me like this, the more I crave it.
I’ve known Rayne Saint James for less than a day, but I can already see him for exactly what he is, a drug I can’t afford to get addicted to.
4
Rayne
Emerson is more complicated than I initially gave her credit for. I thought I had her pegged the moment I laid eyes on her, but there’s something about her I can’t quite put my finger on.
I’m still waiting on my profile on her, and I’m hoping once I can fill in the blanks, she will stop taking up so much space in my mind. She’s the real reason I was here before the sun came up. John had mentioned the breakfast program was understaffed and busier than ever, and I did want to help, but I also couldn’t sleep last night.
No, a certain redhead with emerald-green eyes appeared every time I closed my eyes, and it seems my cock has a mind of its fucking own when it comes to her. At three in the morning, I almost called one of my casual hook-ups, just to take the edge off, but something stopped me. I didn’t want them. I didn’t want a girl I could have any time I wanted, that I could call at any time of the day and she would drop what she was doing to fall at my feet.
There had been something missing in my life for a while, and it wasn’t until I laid eyes on Emerson that I realized what that was.
I wanted the chase. I wanted sweet and innocent, and then I wanted to defile it. And the object of my affections has no idea what she’s in for.
She seems to have a chip on her shoulder, almost as if I’ve done something to offend her, but I know I haven’t. I was the perfect gentleman when we met, I mean apart from the part after I left when I asked one of my oldest friends to dig up every single grain of dirt from her entire life. But she doesn’t know about that, and if she did, it wouldn’t be disdain filling her eyes, it would be fear.
My cock hardens at the thought of those pretty pools of green filling with fear. Despite my name, I’ve never claimed to be a saint. In fact, almost the opposite. I can relate much more with the devil himself.
“I’m not on court-ordered community service,” I tell her, and I’m not sure why. I have no reason to justify anything to her, but for some reason, I feel like I need to. “And I have the day free, so what can I help with?”
Emerson stares at me like she thinks there is something wrong with me, and hell, maybe there is. If Wynter saw me offering to help with paperwork, she would probably keel over and die. I’m the hands-on family member. The enforcer. The one that makes sure shit gets done, and when it doesn’t, I’m the one that breaks kneecaps until it is. But I’m also not a complete idiot. It’s not that I don’t know how to do these things, it’s that normally I have no incentive to do it. Now I do. If I help with the office work, I can spend more time with Emerson, and if I spend more time with her, maybe her Frosty the Snowman impression might melt so I can see what she tries to hide from the rest of the world.
She sighs and looks down at what appears to be a lengthy to-do list. “I’m waiting on a few RSVPs. Would you mind following up on those?” she asks.
“Sure.” I pull my phone out of the pocket of my jeans and wait for her to dig around one of the ten piles of papers I can see from where I’m sitting. A moment later she hands me a few sheets, and I’m honestly a little shocked she found what she was looking for so quickly.
“It’s organized chaos,” Emerson defends the endless piles.
“I’m sure it is.” A smirk tugs at my lips, and I don’t try to hide it. Emerson is an enigma to me. She’s not the kind of girl I would ever say is my type. She’s shy, and innocent, and more than a little awkward. She doesn’t wear a mountain of makeup, and she didn’t spend an hour this morning doing her hair. But she’s fucking stunning. Today her hair is thrown into some kind of knot on the top of her head, and it looks like she’s hastily swept on some mascara and lip gloss, but her skin is bare. The smudges under her eyes seem darker today, or perhaps I’m just looking at her closer, archiving everything I can to my memory for later when I will undoubtedly be thinking about her.
I finally drag my eyes away from Emerson to browse over the list of people they are still waiting for a response from. Politicians. Celebrities. Entrepreneurs. Most of which I’ve met a time or two. When I look up at Emerson, she’s reading something on the computer. How much trouble is this place in? It’s a charity, a youth center for kids. Surely the city funds it. But John’s eyes wouldn’t have lit up like a fucking Christmas tree when I told him I had the check this morning if there wasn’t more to the story.
“Is there a problem?” Emerson must feel my eyes on her. I’m not exactly being subtle with my stares, and I don’t intend to start. I’m not a subtle kind of guy, and if there’s anything she’s going to learn about me, it’s this.
I shake my head slowly. “No problem. Just this list, how did you put it together?”
She stares at me for a long moment, so long I start to think she isn’t going to answer, but when she sighs, I know I’ve got her. “Some are people who have attended our events before, donated in the past, those kinds of things. Others are politicians who we would like to see all the good this place does so we can get some of our funding back. And some are just a pipe dream, people we would love to support us but know there’s no way they will.” She smiles sadly.
“Does the city give this place any funding?” I ask, my fingers tightening around my phone.
Emerson shakes her head, and just for a moment, I see how hopeless that makes her feel. “No, they withdrew all their funding a few years ago. We barely survive off donations.”
