Is that what she really thinks of me? Is that what I really am?

  “Hey,” Carina calls me.

  I glance over my shoulder to see her draped in the white duvet like a Greek goddess. She gives me a devilish grin.

  “Are we going to continue or what?”

  I stare at her. I’ve been with her for the past few hours but it feels like I’m looking at her for the first time. She has a nice, full figure, I’ll give her that. And luscious curls. Plus she was good in bed. And on the floor. And against the wall. Yet I don’t feel the slightest spark of attraction towards her now.

  “You should go,” I tell her.

  Her thin eyebrows arch. “What?”

  “You should go,” I repeat as I step aside to give her a better view of the exit.

  Carina frowns as she puts a hand on her hip. “You said you could go for a few more rounds.”

  Did I?

  “Maybe I can, but I don’t want to anymore,” I tell her.

  Frankly, I suddenly feel tired.

  She puts her other hand on her hip. The duvet falls to the floor.

  “Sure?”

  “Sure,” I answer without any hesitation even as I look at her naked body.

  Carina sighs. “Fine.”

  She starts to pick up her clothes, which are scattered all over the living room.

  “My throat’s getting a little hoarse anyway, what with you constantly telling me to be louder.”

  I say nothing. She puts on her underwear and her pants.

  “Who was that banging on the door?”

  I nearly grin as I remember the sight of Violet with that pan. She could have brought a rolling pin. Or a spatula. Or an umbrella. Instead, she brought a pan. Not that she needs a weapon, as she already proved last week. The memory of what she did with just her knee is still enough to make me wince.

  “Just my neighbor,” I answer Carina’s question. “She thought I was wrestling with a burglar or something.”

  Carina snorts before putting on her blouse. “Stupid. Didn’t she hear me moaning through the wall?”

  I frown. It’s weird. I’ve said a lot of mean things to Violet without flinching, yet all Carina did was call her stupid and I feel like I’ve been hit in the balls once again.

  I feel like throwing her out of my apartment, but I wait patiently by the door for her to finish getting fully clothed.

  “Anyway, that was fun,” she says as she puts on her coat. “I had fun.”

  No comment.

  She slips her feet into her shoes. “So much fun that I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

  “You know I don’t do seconds,” I tell her. “I told you before we started.”

  “Right.” She grabs her purse. “I usually don’t either, except this time, I—”

  “No seconds, Carina,” I cut her off.

  It doesn’t matter how good the sex is. When you sleep with a woman more than once, she starts to get ideas inside her head. The next thing you know, she’s threatening to kill you if you leave.

  Carina nods slowly. “Fine.”

  She walks towards the door but stops in front of me.

  “It was a real pleasure spending time with you, Asher,” she whispers in my ear.

  Then she puts her hand on my chest and plants a kiss on my cheek. She’s about to press her lips against mine, too, but I grab both her arms and push her away. Yes, I liked her enough to have sex with her, but now that the sex is over, I’m starting to find her annoying, especially since she’s obviously stalling her departure.

  “Good night,” I tell her as I look into her eyes, trying to convey the message that I want her to leave so I don’t have to say it.

  She smiles in understanding and walks out but stops just outside the door and turns around before I can close it.

  “That woman, your neighbor,” Carina says. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

  My eyebrows furrow. What?

  “I’m not,” I assure her.

  She grins. “Really?”

  Now she’s just unbearable.

  “Goodbye, Carina.”

  I close the door before she can come up with any more nonsense. Then I head to the bathroom to take a shower. As the drops of water crash down on my skin, I think of what Carina said.

  Me? In love with Violet? How ever did she come up with that idea?

  I’m not. I just want to have sex with her. That’s all. I just want to know how it would feel to have her bare body trembling against mine, to look into her cobalt blue eyes as I bury myself deep inside her, to hear my name leave her lips in a gasp. I just want her to let go of all her fears and inhibitions and feel good.

  Why? Because I don’t think she understands what pleasure means. She’s too serious. She expects too much of herself. She’s too careful, too defensive. For once, I want her to take a chance. Take a leap. Break through her own walls and be reckless, fearless. I know she can. If only she could open her heart, she’d see that as well, but she’s blinded by doubts and fears. I know that feeling, too.

  Violet may not see it, but we have a lot in common. We’re both stubborn to a fault. We’ve both been hardened by the years. We both hate showing any sign of weakness. I have no doubt we’d both be amazing in bed.

  That doesn’t mean I intend on having sex with her for more than one night. More than one round, sure. More than one night, no. I’m not going to start a relationship with her. Like I said, I’m just after the sex, and once that’s done, I’ll leave her alone just like all the women I’ve slept with for the past several years. I’m never going near her again, not even if she comes to my door like she did earlier and wears that face, that face desperately trying to keep tears at bay as she threatened me with a pan. Fuck, I wanted to pull her into my arms then.

  But only because I felt guilty. That’s all. I know I can be a jerk sometimes, but no one has impressed that fact upon me more than Violet. Maybe because no one brings that side of me out more than she does. She frustrates me. She makes me lose my temper. She makes me feel like a kid and makes me do stupid things. She drives me out of control. She…

  I stop and let out a laugh that bounces off the tiles. What am I thinking? That Violet has control over me?

  No. That’s absurd. No woman can control Asher Hawthorne.

  Starting now, I’m going to act more like myself instead of reacting to Violet. I’m going to stop going out of my way to be mean to her. I’m going to stop trying to hurt her or make her leave. I’m going to stop asking, expecting things from her. I’ve grown tired of all of it anyway.

  Ever since Violet arrived from Switzerland, I’ve been all about her. Trying to get her to sleep with me. Trying to annoy her. Enough.

  No more plots. No more stupid arguments. No more games.

  Starting tomorrow, Violet is going to see the real Asher Hawthorne.

  ~

  “Good morning, Ms. Cleary,” I greet Violet as I put a cup of coffee on her desk before heading to my office.

  She looks up at me with wide eyes. I smile.

  “What’s this?” she asks as she glances at the cup of coffee.

  “Cappuccino,” I answer. “With vanilla foam and a bit of cinnamon. I thought you might need it.”

  Violet says nothing. I can tell from her expression that she’s trying to guess my intention. Am I genuinely being nice to her after being an ass last night? Or am I making fun of her?

  “Don’t worry,” I tell her. “I didn’t put anything in it.”

  I’d never do that, but I can understand why she’s reluctant to believe me after all the other things I’ve tried. It’s best to give her a few moments to make up her mind.

  “Good day, Ms. Cleary.” I start to walk away from her desk. “Oh, and kindly give me a copy of the report on our estimated expenses for the next quarter this morning so I can take a look at it before the meeting with Ethan this afternoon. You can just hand it to Dylan and then I’ll have it sent back to you if there are any changes necessary.”

  Again, Violet just gives me a wide-eyed look. I wonder what she’s more surprised about—the fact that I’m acting like her boss or that I said ‘kindly’.

  “Is that alright, Ms. Cleary?” I ask.

  “Y–yes, sir,” she answers. “I’ll have the report ready for you in an hour.”

  Now that’s more like her.

  “Good. I’ll be expecting it.”

  I give her one last smile before heading to my office.

  Chapter Eight

  Violet

  I frown at the ceiling as I lie in bed.

  It’s weird. I should be sleeping peacefully right now because I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately and it’s finally quiet on the other side of the wall. I should even have a smile on my lips because today was a good day.

  Asher got me a nice cup of coffee. He helped me with my report. He backed me up in front of his brother during the meeting and as a result I got praised by the CEO. Then after the meeting, Asher let me go home early, which allowed me to cook a nice dinner, have a longer shower and get to bed early.

  In short, Asher was good to me all day. Kind. And all I can do is keep wondering why. What is he up to this time?

  There must be a reason. When the girl who’s always a bitch to you sits next to you at lunch, it’s usually because she wants to copy your homework. When the quarterback who doesn’t know you exist suddenly approaches you at your locker and says he likes your hair, it’s usually because he’s bored with his current girlfriend or trying to make her jealous. When your mother stops making breakfast for you every morning and tucking you into bed every night and starts drinking every day until she just stares into space and doesn’t recognize you, it’s because your father cheated on her.

  There’s always a reason. The problem is I don’t know what Asher’s is. Is he trying to kill me with kindness? Is this a new ploy to get rid of me? Or is he just trying to get me to like him so that I’ll sleep with him?

  I don’t know. I wish I did. Then I’d know what to expect and how I’m supposed to respond. But I can’t read another person’s mind. It’s confusing, frustrating, maddening.

  It’s impossible.

  A yawn escapes my mouth. I turn on my side, hug my pillow and close my eyes.

  I should stop torturing myself trying to do it, then. God knows I’ve been tortured enough these past few days. Besides, it may only be a phase. Tomorrow, Asher might go back to being the jerk I know.

  ~

  He didn’t.

  It’s the end of the week and Asher is still wearing that halo around his head. He’s been bringing me coffee. He’s been helping me with work. He’s been letting me go home early. And I’m really curious why.

  Maybe I should just ask him?

  Just then, I hear a knock on the door to my office. I look up and find Asher standing outside the glass.

  Speaking of the devil. Or should I say the angel?

  I open the door. “Sir?”

  “I think you should go through these numbers again.”

  He hands me the tablet. I look at the screen, which displays a chart from the report I submitted earlier. It takes me only a few seconds to see the error and gasp in dismay.

  How could I have made such a glaring mistake?

  “I’m so sorry, sir,” I apologize at once. “I’ll correct it right away.”

  I wait for the scolding. Instead, I get a look of concern.

  “Are you feeling alright, Ms. Cleary?” Asher asks me. “You don’t usually make mistakes like this.”

  “I know. I’m fine. I just… had a mental lapse, I guess. And no, I’m not making excuses. It’s a mistake, my mistake, and I will fix it.”

  Asher smiles. “No worries.”

  ‘No worries’? Before this week, it would have been ‘You better’ or ‘It better not happen again’.

  Asher’s eyebrows furrow. “Is something wrong, Ms. Cleary? You look a little confused.”

  I am. More than a little.

  “Any questions?”

  Who are you and what have you done with Asher Hawthorne?

  “I was just wondering…” I pause to draw a breath. “If there’s something you wanted me to do.”

  He nods. “Yes. I want you to fix that mistake.”

  “No. I mean yes, I will do that. But is there… anything else you want from me?”

  He scratches his chin. “Let’s see. That data analysis I mentioned the other day?”

  “I mean something that’s not related to work,” I clarify as simply as I can.

  “Oh.” He pauses for a moment to think, then shakes his head. “No. I can’t think of anything. Why?”

  “Nothing,” I answer quickly.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.

  His eyes narrow. “Did I, without my knowledge, make you think I want something from you, Ms. Cleary?”

  I suddenly feel stupid. What if I’m reading too much into his behavior? What if he’s just being kind? There’s no reason required for someone to be kind, right?

  “No, sir,” I tell him. “Please forget what I said.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nod.

  “Because just to be clear, I’m not expecting anything from you apart from your hard work.”

  Of course. I’m just imagining otherwise because I can’t accept the fact that I suddenly have a nice boss. I’m the one who’s not right in the head. Not Asher.

  “I understand.”

  “What about you, Ms. Cleary?” he asks. “Is there something you want from me?”

  I pause. Is there?

  I shake my head. “No, sir.”

  “Not even another cup of coffee?” he offers.

  “No, thank you.” I glance at the cup on my desk, which is still a quarter full. “One is enough.”

  “Okay.”

  Asher walks away, then stops and glances over his shoulder.

  “By the way, Ms. Cleary…”

  I lift my chin. “Yes?”

  “Nice dress.”

  ~

  Nice dress?

  I take a moment to examine how it looks in the mirror of the women’s restroom as I wash my hands after lunch.

  I guess it does look nice. A white pencil dress with blue orchids, a boat neckline and a gold lace sash. It’s Friday, after all. I usually wear my nicest dresses on Fridays.

  What doesn’t happen usually? Asher paying me a compliment. What’s next? Is he going to buy me flowers? Ask me out on a date? And if he does, what do I do? Can I still refuse after how kind he’s been to me? Has that been his plan all along—to be so kind to me that I’ll feel indebted and do anything for him? I know he said he wasn’t expecting anything from me, but I can’t help but feel that I’m obliged to do something in return.

  I shake my head. Now I’m really confused. I don’t know how to deal with this kind Asher. I’ve never been good at dealing with kind people. That’s why I barely have friends or go home to spend time with my family.

  I can deal with jerks. I can deal with envious colleagues. I can deal with arrogant superiors and incompetent subordinates. But kind people? Their very existence confuses me.

  And now, Asher is one of them. So what on earth do I do about him?

  The mirror doesn’t give me an answer so I get out of the restroom. As I pull the handle of my purse over my shoulder in the corridor, I nearly bump into a woman on her way in.

  “Sorry,” I mumble.

  The woman, an auburn-haired, pear-shaped thirty-something in a rust-colored top and black skirt, says nothing. She just stops and stares at me.

  My eyebrows crease. “Do I know you?”

  “No.” She continues in a softer but somehow resentful voice as she gets out of my way. “But I know you.”

  Hmm. At first, I decide to ignore the comment and keep walking, but I change my mind after a few steps. When I stop to look over my shoulder, I find the woman and two of her friends whispering. One of them glances at me.

  Oh, they’re definitely talking about me. Maligning me, from the looks of it. Now, I’ve had to put up with a lot of crap since I joined this company, mostly from Asher, but now that he’s respecting me like he should, I’m not tolerating any of it any longer.

  “Hi.” I give the women a wide smile as I walk over to them. “Is there something you’d like to talk to me about? If you have something you’re brave enough to say to my face, I’m happy to listen.”

  Two of the women, including the one I nearly bumped into, fall silent. The third, a brunette in a pink blouse, puts on a smile that rivals mine, too wide to be real.

  “We were just… talking about… your lipstick. It looks nice. What brand is it?”

  “Oh. It’s…”

  I start to get the tube from my purse but stop when I notice the auburn-haired woman rolling her eyes. Oh no she didn’t.

  “Is there something else you’d like to ask?” I ask her because she looks like she’s dying to say her piece. “Now’s your chance.”

  She looks at me. “Are you going out with Asher Hawthorne?”

  Now, that wasn’t so hard.

  “No,” I answer.

  “You don’t intend to?” she asks next.

  “No. So if you want to have a go at him—”

  “Then why do you keep leading him on? Why do you have him at your beck and call?”

  What? “That is not true.”

  “I heard he brings you coffee every morning. Is that not true?”

  Is that what this is all about?

  “It is, but…”

  “And that he lets you go home early so you can relax while he does all of your work?”

  I frown. “He does not.”

  The woman folds her arms beneath her breasts. “He used to hate you. He couldn’t stand seeing you, and now all of a sudden he’s like… your puppy. And yet you say you’re not going out with him and don’t intend to. So you’re just using him to get ahead? Is that it? Are you sleeping with him in exchange for favors?”

  Wow. That’s a lot of stuff she’s been dying to say. Well, now it’s my turn.

  I draw a breath. “For the record, I am not—”

  “Ms. Cleary is not sleeping with me to get ahead,” Asher says as he emerges from around the corner.