Illegal Use of Hands Page 8

  She inhaled and let her breath out slowly. “No. Not changing my mind. But I want my severance. My contract calls for it.” She dug her nails into her palms. “I’m sure that on top of everything else you don’t want a lawsuit.”

  Ed’s face twisted as if he’d swallowed something unpleasant.

  “I’ll call Human Resources. They’ll have papers for you to sign before they hand over your check.” He picked up his phone. “You’d better get going. I have to tell Renzulli. You know he’ll want you out of here posthaste.”

  “Of course.” She was amazed she sounded so calm when her stomach was twisted in knots and anger rose in her like a wash of vinegar.

  “Human Resources will be ready for you shortly. Please go clean out your desk now.” He shook his head. “You’re making a big mistake here, Kaitlyn.”

  She gritted her teeth. “I doubt that.”

  Then she turned and walked out of his office, wishing she had the nerve to smash something against his ugly face. Things only got worse when she reached her cubicle and found a security guard waiting for her.

  “Does Renzulli think I’m going to steal his cheap pens and crappy computer?” she snapped.

  The guard, standing rigid in his uniform, looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Reese. I’m only doing my job.”

  “Aren’t we all,” she muttered. She stared at the desk, wondering what she was going to put all her crap in.

  “I brought this for you to use.” Emily, the receptionist, stood at the opening to her cubicle, holding a large cardboard box and wearing a sad expression.”

  Kaitlyn grabbed the box from her. “Didn’t take long for the word to spread.”

  “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” Emily protested. “As far as I’m concerned, this is the biggest mistake they’ve made since Rat-zulli took over.”

  Kaitlyn nearly strangled on a laugh. “Rat-zulli? Who gave him that name?”

  “Almost everyone who’s had anything to do with him since he bought the magazine.” She stepped in closer. “Come on, Kaitlyn. I’ll give you a hand. The faster you get out of here, the faster you can get rid of the stink of this place. I’ll keep the box up at my desk until you finish with HR.”

  The guard, Mr. Unsmiling, was glued to her heels while she went to pick up her check and sign a ton of paperwork. Tim Van Allen, the director of the department, looked decidedly uncomfortable while he processed her out.

  “You know, if I had anything to do with it, you’d still be here,” he told her. “I told Ed he’s making a big mistake but he’s just Rat-zulli’s messenger boy.”

  Kaitlyn actually laughed. “I guess that’s going to be the owner’s name from now on.”

  “Yeah,” he grumbled. “Since we can use really foul language here.”

  “He’s going to destroy the magazine, you know.”

  “It’s already happening,” Tim said. “Don’t quote me but some of the other writers already have their feelers out for other jobs.”

  Kaitlyn sighed. “I probably should have done that myself after the last assignment but I kept thinking things would get better.”

  “Good luck to you, Kaitlyn. You’re a talented writer and I wish you every success.”

  When she stopped to pick up her cardboard box at the front desk, Emily gave her a huge hug and nearly sobbed on her shoulder.

  “I hate losing you like this. It sucks big time.”

  Kaitlyn shrugged. It’s probably for the best. This place is turning into a slime pit anyway.”

  “I’ll bet you get another job real soon,” Emily called after her.

  Kaitlyn headed out the door with the security guard hot on her heels. “I hope so.”

  But, two weeks later, she wasn’t so sure.

  “I can’t believe that asshole put the word out like that,” she told her friend Liz. “He’s ruining me.”

  “Here. Have some of this. It will help us think better.” She handed over a half gallon of salted caramel ice cream. “Ice cream cures everything.”

  In minutes, they were settled on the couch, each with a large bowl filled with the rich confection.

  “I don’t think it will cure this,” Kaitlyn grumped. “Rat-zulli has put the word out all over town and no one will touch me with a ten foot pole.”

  Liz’s eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline. “Can he do that? Is he that powerful?”

  “He’s got that much money. And who the hell knows what he even told them.” She waited while a spoonful of ice cream melted in her mouth. “Liz, I can’t even get a job on a weekly rag right now. What am I going to do?”

  Liz licked her spoon, brows drawn together. “Are you okay for money? Because I can—”

  “No.” Kaitlyn held out a hand, palm forward. She and Liz had been friends for more than ten years. She knew the easiest way to ruin a friendship was to introduce money into it. “Don’t even bring that up. I am not taking a cent from you. Anyway, I’ve been stashing money away for a while so I’m good for another few weeks. Maybe by then this will blow over. Otherwise I’ll have to rethink my career path.”

  “Okay, if you won’t take money from me, how about something else?”

  “Like what?” She scooped more ice cream into her mouth.

  “I have a friend who knows someone who rents out cottages at Fort Myers Beach.”

  “In Florida?” Kaitlyn interrupted.

  “That’s where it was the last time I looked.”

  “But it’s hot in Florida in June,” Kaitlyn protested.

  “Which is why the rental agent has empty cottages at an el cheapo rate. Not only that, he’ll give you an even bigger discount because my friend once did him a huge favor and he owes her.”

  Kaitlyn stared at her friend. “You already talked to him? Her? Whichever?”

  Liz nodded. “Things didn’t seem to be falling into place for you here. I figured if you could get out of Dodge for a couple of weeks or so, things would simmer down. And who knows? You might think about relocating.”

  “I don’t know about that. But how much is this very extra cheap rate?”

  When Liz quoted her the price, she almost swallowed the spoon along with her ice cream.

  “Is that for real? How can he afford that? He’s practically giving it away.”

  “Say yes and don’t ask any questions.” She sat up and set her empty bowl on the coffee table. “You need this, Kaitlyn. You need to wash all this stuff out of your system and figure out what you really want to do with the rest of your life.” She grinned. “And maybe you’ll meet a hot guy down there.”

  Kaitlyn shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ve got enough troubles without some guy messing up my life. No guys. No. Guys. None.” She leaned back and stretched out her legs. “But a few weeks on the beach sure sound great right now.”

  Liz pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. “Then I’ll get right on it.”

  Chapter Two

  Ryan stretched and blinked his eyes open, squinting. No wonder. Sunlight was pouring in the window over the bed. Apparently he’d forgotten to close the curtains last night. By the time he got to the cottage on Pelican Lane, all he’d wanted to do was strip off his clothes and fall into bed.

  He lay there, letting his body wake up, revisiting the circumstances of the trip down here. He had to give Walt credit for this. He’d pulled this off like a real superspy. Ryan had certainly felt like he was in a covert ops movie. At five o’clock in the afternoon, a black windowless van had rolled up his driveway and into his garage. The same van had made a trip earlier in the day so the assholes camped out in the street would write it off as nothing newsworthy. But, on the last trip, it delivered Rich McClellan, who Walt referred to as the fake Ryan Calhoun. Then they’d hustled Ryan himself, along with his suitcases, into the van and rolled out of the garage and into the street with the paparazzi barely paying attention.

  Less than three hours later, they pulled into a driveway next to an anonymous dark
sedan. They all climbed out and Walt handed Ryan a set of keys, dipping his head at the car sitting in the driveway.

  “Yours for the duration. I didn’t want anything fancy to call attention to you.”

  “Prison looks the same, with or without bars.”

  “This is not prison,” Walt protested. “It’s a nice cottage where no one will know who the hell you are. Thank god.”

  “Yeah.” Ryan couldn’t help the sarcasm in his tone. “Thank god.”

  “Maybe this will make you rethink your role as the ladies’ man of the year and choose your women a little more wisely.”

  Ryan had no comeback for that because Walt was right. He didn’t always choose wisely or well.

  “Is there a grocery store near here or did you want me to starve to death?”

  “I sent down a grocery list,” Walt told him, “so the fridge and cupboards are stocked. If you need anything else there’s a grocery store five minutes away.” He handed him a slip of paper with some numbers on it. “The security code for the door. They don’t use keys.”

  He helped Ryan haul his stuff inside, checked things out for himself then the two men shook hands.

  “Call if you need anything,” Walt told him.

  “You’ll keep me up to date on what’s happening?”

  “I will. But you need to put it out of your mind for now. I’m not kidding. Don’t get online and start looking for stuff or you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

  Ryan scowled. “You mean because of all the shit out there?” Great. Fucking great.

  Walt nodded. “With you out of sight and not available for the hounds of hell paparazzi, and the magic my people can work, things should start calming down soon.”

  Ryan groaned. “Chased out of my own house by a nutty female. Honest to god, Walt. When I met her I thought she was a lot of fun.”

  Walt shook his head. “I think from now on, you ought to let me have all your women vetted before you go out with them.”

  “That’s one solution to the problem,” he growled, angry and frustrated.

  Walt’s eyes filled with sympathy. “Go be a beach bum for a while and let me handle things.”

  “I guess that’s my only choice.” And his own damn fault, he had to admit. Who ever thought he’d make such a poor choice of women he’d be forced to run for cover?

  “And, Ryan? One more thing.”

  Ryan lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah? Now what?”

  “Stay away from women. Can you manage that until this dies down?”

  Ryan felt anger surge through him. “Sure, Walt. I’ll go ahead and cancel the hookers first thing in the morning.”

  Walt held up his hands, palms outward. “No need to get hot under the collar. Just covering all bases. I’d think, after Marlo, you’d be on a no female kick anyway.”

  That was plenty close to the truth. His shoulders sagged. “I’m good. Don’t worry. The last thing I’m looking for right now is another female.”

  “Okay. Oh, and keep your cell on at all times so I can reach you if I have to.”

  They shook hands and Walt headed back north.

  By the time Ryan had unpacked, he was ready to crawl into bed. He was out like a light within seconds and slept without dreams, an unusual occurrence these days.

  Now he lay in an unfamiliar bed in unfamiliar surroundings wondering what would happen next. Football was his life. He could do without women before he could do without the game. So, then, why had he been such a ladies’ man he got himself in this fix? Maybe he could pull the covers over his head and hide there until it was all over.

  Finally, urged by the call of nature, he climbed out of the bed and made his way into the small, attached bathroom. Necessities taken care of, he wandered around the cottage. Large windows in the living room and dining room let in unimpeded light and gave onto gorgeous views. Looking out the front he could see other cottages like the one he was in, most of them on stilts. In the back, two huge trees provided shade for a porch and a nice yard.

  He thought about coffee but decided to go for a run first. Get the lay of the land, so to speak. He dug through his stuff for a pair of jogging shorts and a T-shirt, laced up his shoes, and headed out the door. He deliberately left his cell phone on the counter. Screw Walt. He needed to have a few hours disconnected from everything to let his head air out.

  He had no one to blame for his situation. He had to face that fact. He’d enjoyed the high life, enjoyed women, and had few if any problems. If Marlo had exhibited any signs of her insanity, his ego had blinded him to it. Now his life was in turmoil and he was hiding out like some criminal.

  Last night, in the dark, he had not been able to take note of his surroundings. Now he got a better view of the cottages on the short street as he passed them. Colorful, with blooming bushes of all kinds surrounding them. At the end of the street was a park, dotted with benches and tables and more tropical shrubs. And, beyond it, the beach, and the waters of San Carlos Bay.

  Ryan jogged around the park twice before heading for the beach. By the time he finished, he’d clocked five miles and was ready for that coffee. When he hit the sidewalk of Pelican Lane, he slowed down, taking in more of the environment.

  Which was how he spotted the woman carrying a trash bag down the stairs of one of the cottages. And stopped to take a look at her. And nearly swallowed his tongue. Cutoff shorts and a very baggy T-shirt should have hidden most of her assets. Not a glamorous outfit at all. But the very nature of them made her look all the sexier. Her golden hair was pulled up in a ponytail and, when she bent over, her shirt hiked up so he could see an ass that his hands itched to cup.

  Stop it!

  He could almost hear Walt’s voice in his ear. And the man would be right. He was already in so much hot water because of Psycho Marlo he didn’t need to buy more of it. He’d made up his mind he was off women for the duration. It was the smart thing to do.

  But oh, man. He hoped he wasn’t drooling as he took in her gorgeous thighs and the graceful movements of her arms. The lush curve of her hips and the smooth, lightly tanned skin. If she’d bend over a tiny bit more, her T-shirt would fall forward and he could—

  He could get himself in a bigger batch of trouble here. But holy shit! His cock sure wasn’t paying much attention to the orders he was issuing. It was practically poking its way out of his shorts. He bent over, eyes on the ground and hands on thighs as he pretended to be dragging in air. He hoped his damn body would get the message to stand down. But then he realized she was standing right in front of him and he was staring at slender ankles and two graceful feet whose toenails were painted a bright pink. With sexy sparkles on them.

  Crap!

  “Are you okay?”

  He looked up at the sound of a musical voice that played havoc with his senses. And found himself staring at eyes as blue as the water of the Bay and a straight nose sprinkled with a light dusting of freckles. God. Freckles. One of his weaknesses. Not to mention a mouth with full lips that he wanted to lick and nibble. Holy shit, he was in a fuckload of trouble.

  He managed to straighten himself up, hoping his cock had calmed down a little. “Uh, yeah. Guess I’m a little winded.”

  She frowned. “Why don’t you come sit down on my stairs for a minute. I’ll get you a glass of water. You look like you could use it.”

  Yeah. Water. Stupid fucker that he was, he’d run out of the house forgetting to take a bottle of water with him. If he had half a brain he’d say thank you and go on to his own place. Apparently, he didn’t even have that, because he heard himself say, “Thanks. That would be great.”

  She actually took his arm as if he was some kind of enfeebled idiot and led him to the flight of stairs leading up to the door of her cottage. He froze for a moment as electricity crackled in the air around them. She felt it, too. He knew it by the slight widening of her eyes and the way she yanked her hand back. He wanted to tell her to touch him again, maybe all over, but he kept hearing Walt’s voice in his head.


  “Stay away from women.”

  But the musical voice overrode the one in his head. “Wait right here. I’ll only be a minute.”

  Man, he could listen to her voice forever. He sat down on the steps and watched while she ran up to the front porch and opened the door. Bad move. He could see her sweet ass flex beneath the T-shirt and holy mother! When she straightened up the soft fabric fell right over her breasts.

  She returned in a moment. When he looked up, his nursemaid was crouched on the step next to him, carrying a bottle of water, her eyes filled with concern. She put the water in his hands and closed his fingers over it. Great. She thought he was some kind of cripple. Not only that, the barest touch of her fingers against his set off those invisible sparks again. Whatever perfume or shampoo or bath gel she used waved a red flag in front of his hormones. Something vanilla and cinnamon. He was struck with an urge to lick her all over and see if she tasted as good as she smelled.

  Before he could do something really stupid, like kiss this woman whose name he didn’t even know, he drew away. He uncapped the bottle, tilted his head back, and took a long drink. When he lowered his head and looked straight into her eyes, a faint blush crept up her cheeks and she scrambled to her feet and retreated two steps.

  “If, um, you’re okay now, I’ll go on inside now. Take the rest of the water with you.”

  “Thanks a lot.” He gestured to her with the bottle.

  “Sure.” Then she rabbited into the house as if he’d grown horns or something.

  Smooth, Ryan. You’re supposed to be on a no female diet and you look at this woman like she’s a tempting appetizer. Maybe the whole meal.

  Well, fuck. He was supposed to be on a strict program of celibacy. In fact, after the whole thing with Marlo blew up, he was pretty damn sure he didn’t want a female in his life again for a long, long time, if ever. With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and headed toward his own place—which he now realized was right next door to hers. Apparently his cock realized it, too, because it was back to making its demands known.

  Double fuck.

  He climbed his stairs and punched in the code for his front door. A shower. That’s what he needed. Maybe he could wash his neighbor out of his mind.