Please (Please #1) by Willow Summers Page B

it. “Of course not. But you can finish up Monday. The document I just handed back will give us a couple days of idle time, then I might need you more often. I’d rather give you a break now so you’re fresh when I need the longer hours.”
    “Oh,” I said in relief. He was a dick, but I needed the paycheck. “Well, if I don’t have to work, then I don’t need my laptop. Although…I suppose getting online would still be nice.” My phone’s screen was cracked and I’d given back Kimberly’s computer. I was really glad Hunter had chosen a laptop instead of a desktop for my work computer.
    I moved around the desk to close everything up.
    “Why don’t you have a personal computer?” Hunter asked.
    Apparently everyone had wads of cash to buy electronics in his opinion. “It broke.” A thought occurred to me. I paused with my laptop half in my computer bag. “This’ll work outside of the network, right? It doesn’t have any special encryption or anything like that?”
    “We’re not the CIA, Olivia,” Hunter said in a dour voice.
    “You think you’re important enough to be,” I muttered as I returned to my computer. His fabric made a silky sound, indicating he’d shifted. Which also probably meant he’d heard that.
    Oops.
    I looped the computer case over my shoulder and slung my handbag over my forearm. He started moving as I came around the desk. No words marred the silence. We rode the elevator in silence, too. And then crossed the lobby and walked out onto the sidewalk, all without saying a syllable.
    His body moved with a rigidity that implied he realized I wasn’t acting with my normal gabby candor. He made no move to question the difference, though. He didn’t even glance my way, other than to make sure I was moving through whatever door he was holding open for me.
    He either knew our earlier situation bothered me, and didn’t care, or just generically knew something was wrong, and didn’t care. Either scenario amounted to the same thing. He was an ass. If I had better balance in these heels, I’d be tempted to give him a kick.
    We exited the building into the October sunshine with silence pressing against us. One thing was for certain—if we went to lunch like this, I would break down in tears. I needed some time to rebuild my armor.
    “I think I’ll just head home, if that’s okay?” I said as his hand reached out to guide me to the right.
    He paused. I angled my face to the ground, unwilling to meet his hard stare.
    He said, “I’ll have the car brought around.”
    “No, it’s fine.” I took a step away. “It’s the middle of the day—I can handle it.”
    “Olivia.” The power in his voice dribbled down my spine and sent tingles working back up. Heat spread through my middle and pooled low. I stepped closer to him without meaning to, wanting that heat. Needing his touch again. Wanting his protection even though there was nothing to protect me from except himself.
    My biggest mistake had been that first “yes.”
    “You will take a car home,” he continued in a voice that brooked no argument. “There is no need to brave public transportation when you don’t have to.”
    I closed my eyes, hating myself as I nodded. A tear leaked out, making me turn away to hide my face.
    “Mr. Ramous—I need the car brought around front. You’ll be taking Miss Jonston home,” he said into what I presumed was his phone. I couldn’t be sure, however, since I was blinking profusely up at the sky in the other direction, letting the crisp air dry my eyes.
    A moment later, his voice softened as he said, “Olivia, look at me.”
    I felt the pull to turn, but resisted. The last thing I needed was for him to see how he’d affected me.
    “Olivia—” He cut off as the sleek black car drifted down the street. It stopped in front of us with hazards flashing as Mr. Ramous stepped out in all his bulk.
    “I was just down in the alley waitin’, sir,” Mr. Ramous said as he opened the back door