Vicky sat silently through the entire exchange, not knowing what to say or if the waiter would even understand her. “I thought we were getting dinner?” she asked, as she watched the menus leave without being opened.
An amused grin curled the corners of Darien’s lips. “It’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Oh.” Vicky folded her hands in her lap and studied the weave of the tablecloth. She had no idea what was going on, but she could feel the eyes of her new boss boring into her from across the table. Gathering up her courage, Vicky looked up into those emerald green orbs. Her mouth went dry at the way the man’s eyes sparkled like jewels in the dim light of the restaurant. The way he stared at her made Vicky feel like a little mouse cornered by a cat. And not just some little house cat, but one of those big felines that stared out from the top of cliffs, unseen, before springing out to rip the throat from unsuspecting prey.
“So, Miss Westernly, tell me about yourself.” Darien leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on the table as he spoke. His fingers laced together, and he rested his hands on the table in front of him as he waited for his assistant to answer.
Vicky picked up the water glass and took a sip to lubricate her throat, so her voice wouldn’t crack when she spoke. “What would you like to know?” she asked, unsure what her boss wanted to hear. She was worried she would say something wrong, and he would dismiss her services.
“I would like to know whom the woman I’m entrusting my life to really is,” Darien explained.
Vicky’s mind whirled on this thought. She never expected Darien Ritter would want to know anything about her. “Well, I don’t know where to start,” she admitted. “I grew up just outside of the small town of Moraine, the only child of Thomas and Ann Westernly.” She felt that her background was insignificant, but the great man employing her had asked. “Daddy was a farmer until he was killed by a drunk driver when I was fourteen. After he died, Mom sold the farm, and we moved into town so that she could be closer to her job.” Vicky continued to recount her simple life, up to the point when she moved to Brenton on her mother’s claim that Vicky would have better employment opportunities in the city. When finished, she fell silent and waited for some response from the man watching her.
Darien had listened intently to Vicky’s story without comment and now considered the life that had been laid out before him. Other than the death of her father and the sale of her childhood home, this woman had lived a fairly normal, quiet life. Having watched her face closely, he’d tracked the emotions that played across her eyes as she spoke. He could tell that she still felt pain at the loss of the man who had raised her, and love for the mother who urged her to better herself. It was also apparent that she had started to relax as she spoke, but now she was starting to tense back up as she waited for him to judge her. Darien withdrew his hands from the table and leaned back in his chair. “What made you choose a degree in business?” he asked.
Vicky was surprised Darien hadn’t made any comment about her provincial life. Picking up the new topic to dispel her growing tension, she talked about job availability and wages, but nothing that would suggest a desire to work in the business world. Only that it was a secure future her mother had pushed her towards as she looked into colleges.
Vicky had been avoiding looking at Darien’s face as she spoke—his eyes made her uneasy—but she glanced up as she rambled on and fell silent at the look she found there. She could tell that he was slightly disappointed with her answer. Picking up her water glass to cover the pause in conversation, she tried to think of a way to save her job.
Setting the drink down, she prepared to continue her answer when the waiter appeared with two little bottles, some small cups, and a bowl of bean pods. Darien thanked him and reached for the pods. Vicky watched curiously as her boss popped the pod open and slipped the first of the beans into his mouth.
He looked up to find her watching him and liked how the girl’s emotions rode her face. It made it easy for him to see what she was thinking. “Have you ever had edamame before?”
Vicky shook her head, and he pushed the bowl of green pods closer so she could reach them without dragging her sleeves across the table.
He took another pod and split it along the seam. “You eat just the beans inside,” Darien showed her the small, green pieces.
She picked one of the beans up and broke it open with her nail. It looked vaguely familiar, and she rolled it between her fingers before putting the slightly salty legume into her mouth. Inspecting the pod and its damp, slightly fuzzy skin, Vicky remembered where she had seen this vegetable before. “Are these soybeans?” she asked.
Darien smiled and confirmed her guess. Picking up one of the little bottles, he poured some of the clear liquid into one of the cups.
Now that he was no longer just staring at her, Vicky felt more at ease. She picked up the little cup to see what Darien had offered. Raising it to her lips, she took a swallow. The cool liquid ran across her tongue and down her throat like a good wine should. She never had sake before and was unsure what to expect from the drink. Taking another taste, she relished the drink before setting the dish back on the table. The two sips had almost drained the small vessel, and Darien refilled it for her. She thanked him but didn’t pick it up again. Vicky hadn’t eaten much today and knew drinking on an empty stomach could lead to some very awkward situations, especially with a new boss whom she was trying hard not to disappoint.
She was saved from commenting about the food when the waiter brought out a large, steaming bowl and placed it on the table in front of her. Vicky looked into the dish and almost laughed out loud. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she questioned her boss’s choice of food. “Ramen noodles?”
“You said you were going to have ramen for dinner,” Darien’s eyes twinkled mischievously as he spoke. “It just seemed right.”
Vicky couldn’t stop the giggle that slipped from her.
The delicate sound surprised Darien. He smiled as she picked up the bowl and blew on the hot liquid. She sipped some of the broth from the noodles and set the bowl back on the table to pick up the chopsticks. Darien watched her with half-lidded eyes as he sipped on a cup of sake.
“Aren’t you eating?” Vicky asked, noticing the lack of food in front of her host.
He shook his head. “I’ve already eaten tonight.” He left out the fact that his dinner had been very different from her delicious-smelling repast.
Vicky suddenly felt strange eating while her boss watched, but she took comfort in the fact that he munched on the bowl of edamame. She ate her noodles and drank several more cups of the rice wine under Darien’s watchful eyes. No longer feeling like prey being stalked, she now felt like a bug in a glass jar under a magnifying glass. She just hoped that he didn’t see anything that would make him change his mind about hiring her.
When she was done, the waiter came and took the empty bowl away. Darien paid the bill with one of the credit cards from the bag at his feet. “So, how was it?” He stood up to leave.
“Those were the best ramen noodles I’ve ever had,” Vicky admitted, as her boss led the way to the door.
Darien laughed at her response.
She looked back at his seat and saw he had forgotten the messenger bag. Retrieving it by the handle on top, she hurried to catch up to him. She didn’t want to sling the strap over her shoulder and ruin the beautiful kimono. As she stepped out of the restaurant, Vicky expected Darien to turn to return the clothing she had borrowed, but her boss headed straight to the black sports car they arrived in. She stopped on the sidewalk, shocked, and looked at the shop where her clothing had been left.
Darien turned when she didn’t come and followed her eyes to the little store. “Come on,” Darien called. Vicky’s feet moved towards him automatically. “Don’t worry about your clothes. They’ll be delivered to the office tomorrow.”
Her mouth fell open as she realized that he had no intention of
returning the silk robes wrapped around her.
As he held the car door for her, Vicky settled into the passenger seat, muttering softly. Darien smiled when he saw she’d picked up the bag he’d left behind. Glad the spell on the satchel had settled on Vicky so quickly, he was sure she wouldn’t be able to lose it now. The bag was enchanted, so whomever Darien gave it to would want to keep it with them, and others wouldn’t be willing to pick it up. After all, it did have his entire life hidden within its folds.
“Dreaming. Yes, that’s it—I’m dreaming,” Darien heard Vicky mutter, as she sat on the edge of the seat with the satchel in her lap.
“What do you mean ‘dreaming’?” he asked, starting the car and pointing it back toward Vicky’s apartment building.
“That’s the only thing I can come up with to explain tonight.” She spoke a little louder as Darien looked sideways at her. “Stuff like this just doesn’t happen in real life, so I must be dreaming.”
He grinned at her logic.
“That explains the thing with the hooker, the key that shouldn’t have been in the bag, and buying a kimono to have ramen noodle soup.” Vicky rambled on, convincing herself that she had fallen asleep on the couch when she had first come home.
Darien chuckled at her. It was obvious she was feeling the sake as he pulled up in front of her apartment building. He opened her door, and she swayed a little as she tried to stand. Darien caught her in his arms before she could fall to the sidewalk. He took the leather bag from her and slung it over his shoulder to help her up the steps to her apartment.
Vicky pulled her keys from the little bag that matched her outfit and leaned on her new boss as she worked the door open. She stumbled inside when the door swung free, but Darien stopped before he crossed the threshold of her home.
“May I come in?”
Vicky turned back to see Darien had stopped at the door. “Sure.” She swayed, surprised by how polite the eccentric man was being. “Please, come in.”
Darien could feel the power that held him out give way as he stepped across the threshold and into the small apartment. He dropped the satchel on the sofa and took Vicky back into his arms before she fell.
Her breath hitched as he pulled her closer. That little gasp of air filled her with his rich, spicy smell. It had a slightly coppery tang that she had never experienced with anyone else, but it was far from unpleasant. She found it almost as intoxicating as the sake she had consumed with dinner. His skin was cooler than she had imagined, but the muscles she could feel under his tailored suit were just as hard as she had expected. Vicky squeaked slightly as he lifted her from her feet and carried her across the room and through the door leading to her bedroom.
Darien placed her on her feet and proceeded to start stripping off the exotic clothing he was sure she wouldn’t be able to remove on her own.
Vicky pushed his hands away. “I’m not that type of a girl,” she squeaked, as she tried to back away from the man she thought was trying to take advantage of her drunken state.
Darien chuckled. It had been a while since a woman had pushed him away while he was undressing her. It was rather refreshing. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I was only trying to help you with the unfamiliar clothing.”
Vicky eyed him, warily crossing her arms over her chest protectively. She knew how dangerous it was to have a strange man in her bedroom, and she never meant for him to get this far into her apartment.
Darien could see she wasn’t going to let him help without some kind of persuasion. He thought about just slipping into her thoughts and pressing her to his will, but that could lead to some odd tensions if she continued to work for him. He thought back to her drunken ramblings in the car. “You’re dreaming all of this, right?” Darien raised an eyebrow at the defensive girl.
Vicky froze. “Have to be,” she responded. She was ninety-eight percent certain that what had happened tonight couldn’t be real.
“Then there’s no problem if I help you with the kimono,” Darien coaxed her into relenting. “It’s just a dream, after all.”
Vicky relaxed a little as he reached out to pull her towards him. He loosened the ends of the cord holding her obi in place. “It’s just a dream,” he said again, softly, as Vicky calmed.
She stood perfectly still as he pulled the wide strip of cloth from around her and set it on the foot of the bed. He slipped the waistband beneath the obi off, letting the outer kimono fall loose around her. Spinning her around, he pulled the silken robes from her body and laid them on top of the obi. Gently reminding her that this was still a dream, he turned her so he could relieve her of the under kimono in the same fashion.
When she stood in just the undershirt and half-slip worn under the outer garments, Darien stopped undressing his new assistant and turned her around again. She moved willingly under his hands as he propelled her to the edge of her bed. “It’s only a dream,” Darien whispered again, pulling back the covers to place Vicky in bed. Slipping the sandals from her feet, he reached up to pull the comb from her hair. He could hear her heartbeat increase and her breathing stop as he ran his fingers through her dark blonde locks, checking for any bobby pins that might have been used to help hold the soft hair in place. Darien forced her to swing her legs up and into the bedding. He could see a slight hint of fear in Vicky’s eyes, as he made sure she was properly placed in the bed. The fear subsided when he covered her up instead of climbing in with her.
Darien set the delicate comb on the nightstand and checked the alarm clock to make sure it would wake Vicky up in the morning. He reached out and patted her on the head, lightly, like a child. “Sleep well, and don’t be late for work tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Vicky called to the retreating form of her new boss before closing her eyes and letting sleep take her away. She was sure she would wake up tomorrow morning on the couch, still dressed in the suit she had worn to work that day.
Darien smiled warmly at the woman snuggled in the covers before he shut the door to her room. He was glad the temp agency had sent her. Not only had she proven she could take what he could dish out at work, she delighted him with her innocence and ability to deal with the unexpected. And she hadn’t complained once. Darien looked around Vicky’s apartment as he let himself out. He approved of her home. It was small, but clean and pleasant, and it fit her personality well.
Stepping out into the night air, he breathed deeply. It was still early, and he suddenly felt the need for something warmer than the drawn blood he had consumed earlier. Maybe he could find the working girl that was so eager earlier and ‘convince’ her to donate a pint.
Standing in front of her boss’s partially opened door, Vicky wavered, not sure if she should let him know she was there. She was a little apprehensive about facing him after waking up to find the magnificent kimono draped across the foot of her bed. In the crisp light of the morning, she had to finally admit that what had happened last night was not a dream. She had spent most of the morning reprimanding herself, and she half-expected Darien to send her home for being unprofessional. Looking back at her desk, she almost decided to sit down and wait for her new boss to come find her. Shaking off this idea, she plucked up her courage and knocked on the expensive, wooden door, but got no answer.
“Mr. Ritter,” she called, in case he had missed the soft knock. When no answer came, Vicky pushed the door open just a little and poked her head in. Finding the room void of its occupant, she swung the door open fully and stepped into her boss’s office. Seeing she was safe for a few more minutes, she approached Darien’s neat desk and dropped the present she had brought in the middle. She turned to find her employer standing in the doorway with a cup of coffee and a newspaper. Vicky blushed at being caught in his office. “Good morning, Mr. Ritter.” Her voice came out a little quicker than intended as she tucked her hands behind her back. She felt like a kid getting caught in a cookie jar.
Darien raised an eyebrow at the unexpected presence of his assi
stant in his office. “Good morning, Miss Westernly.” He leaned a little to see what she had done to his desk, but she was standing too close for him to see around her. Straightening back up, he focused on the woman working for him. The corner of his mouth curled up as he took in the loose, knee-length skirt and low-heeled pumps that would be easy to move in. She was ready for another day like yesterday. “I trust you slept well.”
The color on her skin deepened as she remembered how she got to bed. “Yes. Thank you for taking care of me.” Vicky tried to find a way past the man filling the doorway.
“You’re welcome,” he answered, as if it had just been another normal night.
This calmed Vicky a bit. Since he hadn’t made a big deal out of it, she stood a good chance of keeping her job. Her heart jumped as Darien walked into the room, angling his course so he could get around the desk. She swallowed down her fear and embarrassment and stood her ground as he moved. It wouldn’t do her any good to bolt from the room like a startled rabbit. “If there is anything I can do, please let me know,” she offered, turning to go.
Darien stopped when his eyes fell on the two little fruits. He moved around behind his desk and called to her before she could reach the door. “What’s this?”
She turned to see what her boss was looking at. She knew the answer, but it would only be proper to face him when she spoke. “They’re clementines,” she said.
Darien chuckled lightly. “I know that. What are they doing on my desk?” He pinned Vicky with a sharp look.
She shifted from foot to foot as she answered, “I, um…” she started, and then rephrased her thoughts. “You liked the one from yesterday so much, I thought you would like a few more.”
Darien closed his eyes and smiled gently. The simple gesture warmed his heart, and he looked back at the girl waiting for him to respond. “Thank you.” Darien dropped the newspaper on his desk and picked up one of the little oranges to give it a light squeeze. He could smell the fresh tang of the rind as the oils released under his fingers.