Tainted Love Series Boxed Set Page 3

  And she had the gall to accuse him of taking her room!

  He wished Ethan would show up sometime soon. This problem needed to be fixed like tomorrow at the latest. There was no way he was going to put up with that for much longer.

  What would he do when he was entertaining? It was bad enough that he wouldn’t be able to watch any TV or chill out in the evenings. He’d already had a girl, or two, over when she’d arrived. But still, with Zoe hovering around, it would make things difficult where that was concerned.

  Screw her.

  Her being here put him on edge a little—she’d lived here with Billy before and had more of a claim to this apartment than he did. He chewed his sandwich all the time wondering how best to get in touch with Ethan.

  When his cell rang again, he jumped. Lately, he jumped each time his cell rang—feeling like one of Pavlov’s dogs conditioned to do just that.

  This was the effect Margaux had had on him with her incessant intrusions. But when he glanced at the caller ID, he saw that it was Chrissie. He answered it on the second ring.

  It was late for her to be calling. He didn’t have any bookings tonight. So what did she want?

  “Margaux Scott’s pissed at you. What have you done now?”

  Tyler finished chewing his sandwich, giving him time to think. Something had triggered Margaux to becoming a nuisance. From her threats earlier, he could only guess that Bailey had something to do with it. This nut job sometimes spoke to Bailey—and he wondered if Bailey had ever let anything slip.

  He’d need to find out.

  “I have no idea. Depends on what lies she’s fed you. Don’t you want to hear my side of things?”

  Chrissie sighed. “What for? She’s a paying client. She’s always right.”

  Tyler frowned. That just about summed it all up.

  “Tomorrow morning,” said Chrissie.

  “What about tomorrow morning?” Morning bookings were rare.

  “She wants to play golf with you.”

  “I don’t play golf.” He tried to keep his voice low.

  “So learn. Meet her at the golf range at ten sharp.” Chrissie obviously had no interest in anything Tyler had to say. “She wants you for the whole day. I don’t have anything for you until late afternoon—you’re seeing Eugenie Wolferson at two but I’ll move her to the next evening.”

  Tyler hung his head, scratched his forehead. Eugenie was harmless, though eccentric. She wanted nothing more than to paint him in the nude. Ethan had already experienced that delight. Though knowing Ethan, Tyler doubted the dude would have gone totally naked.

  He ran his hand across his forehead. Margaux was after him and there was no way he could get out of this one.

  “Well?”

  He knew very well what Margaux Scott wanted, and golf wasn’t it. But he had no choice. He’d have to go. At least a couple of hundred dollars for this gig. The money was insane. If he gave in to his father, he could jack this shit in forever—and lose his soul in the process.

  No way.

  As long as he refused to take any of that money. He’d have to do this for now.

  “I’ll go.” He had no choice.

  “Of course you’ll go. It’s your job—and what a fine job it is. Where else are you going to get paid so much money just to sit around doing nothing?”

  Avoiding Margaux’s advances was not doing nothing. He shook his head, trying to ease the knots of tension he could already feel tightening around this neck. The thought of seeing her tomorrow made him shudder.

  He scribbled down the time and name. He’d need something to jog his memory in the morning.

  The only way to deal with Margaux Scott tomorrow was to get blind drunk tonight. He grabbed his jacket and wallet in readiness.

  Rocco’s was the place to be.

  Chapter 6

  “He’ll take you back. If you still want it.” Becca’s excitement was palpable. “Come on, Zoe. It’ll be fun, just like the old days. I’ve missed you.”

  They sat outside on a park bench, sharing a bag of salted pretzels as people rushed past in smart business suits.

  “I’m not sure it’s what I want,” Zoe replied. She felt restless, in a state of limbo until she heard back, one way or another, about the programming course.

  If she got accepted, it could change the course of her life. It would also mean that she couldn’t go back to her office job with the stationery firm. The programming course would be intense, full of assignments and coursework to be done during the week. Four months of it and with no job guaranteed at the end, but it would at least give her more of a chance to get her foot in the programming world. And that was better than carrying on with the trajectory of her present life.

  She didn’t want to return to her former life as an office administrator. She had resigned just as the company had started to downsize. It had been just before she and Billy had made that crazy plan of traveling.

  He’d wanted to get away, and she had talked herself into it believing it might be a way of getting away from things that were dragging her down: her work, her misplaced feelings for Ethan, and working out where she and Billy were heading.

  Only things with Billy hadn’t gotten any better. They’d worsened. And her idea of a traveling adventure had disappeared.

  “Why? What more could you want? You can do that job with your eyes shut.” Becca licked her salty fingers.

  Zoe wanted more.

  She’d never forgotten what it had been like when she’d stood inside the swish offices of the Zimmerman group, the place where Nadine, Ethan’s girlfriend, worked. It had blown her mind. The wood was polished to perfection and reflected light like a mirror. The carpets were so soft her sneakers sunk into them. And the view. The windows to the office had the most awesome views overlooking the city.

  It was nothing like the tiny cubicle where Zoe worked. She might never reach the heights of Nadine’s success, but Zoe knew this much—she was capable of more than her dead end job had to offer.

  “How about I come over and help you unpack?” Becca volunteered, nudging Zoe, who was deep in thought.

  “He’s not around, if that’s what you’re coming for.” Zoe knew the type of help Becca had in mind. Wandering around hoping to bump into Ethan kind of help.

  Becca frowned. “Where is he?”

  Zoe shook her head, wondering that herself. “Still want to come over and help me unpack?”

  Becca blushed. “Sure.” She didn’t sound convincing. “Now that you’re not with Billy, what’re you going to do?”

  Zoe looked at her friend. “I’m going to carry on. I haven’t fallen into pieces just because we’ve split.”

  “It’s a shame Ethan’s taken.” Becca never missed a chance to talk about Ethan. Some things never change.

  Zoe straightened up, acted casual, as if she herself wasn’t given to spending time wondering where Ethan was. She acted as though it didn’t mean a thing to her. “I don’t think of Ethan like that,” she lied.

  “That’s crazy. He’s gorgeous.” Becca’s crush on Ethan was common knowledge to everyone in Billy’s circle, including Ethan himself. What wasn’t so commonly known was that Zoe had the kind of feelings for Ethan that a girl shouldn’t be having.

  I know he’s gorgeous. But he’s taken.

  Zoe shook the salt off her fingers. “I don’t even have a room to stay in. I’m sleeping on the couch. Can you believe it?” She turned to Becca, hoping for her sympathy, which Becca immediately gave out in droves.

  “You poor thing. That can’t be easy,” she said, leaning in and touching Zoe’s arm.

  “One of Billy’s dancer friends moved into our room a few days before I got there. Ethan still has his room, even though he hasn’t been around a while.”

  Becca’s face lit up. “Which friend?” The sympathetic look she’d worn for all of two seconds vanished.

  Zoe shook her head. “You don’t give up, do you, Becca?”

  Displaying no signs of sham
e, Becca persisted. “Which friend?”

  “A guy called Tyler?”

  Becca tried to remember, apparently couldn’t, and looked back at Zoe blankly.

  “He was tall, dark hair, arrogant—”

  Becca nodded excitedly. “He’s back? At yours? Sharp features, dark blue eyes? Oh my god, is he staying at yours?”

  Zoe groaned as Becca had her fan girl moment but she was secretly impressed at her friend’s accurate recall, especially of a guy they hadn’t seen much. “Are you wired into a hot guy database?”

  “Who can forget a face like that?” Becca exclaimed, suddenly brightening up.

  Zoe became serious. “I think you should stay away from Tyler. That guy should come with a skull and cross bones sign, and “Keep Away” written in big, red letters. He’s nothing like Ethan.”

  “Yeah, I can totally see that,” said Becca dreamily. Then she caught Zoe’s hard stare, and snapped out of her dream state. “How long can you sleep on the couch for?”

  “Until he moves out.” Only, she couldn’t see that really happening. Now that she’d thought about it, Tyler seemed as desperate for a place as she was, and from his words, he didn’t show any signs of moving on, or out. He hadn’t even been chivalrous enough to offer sleeping on the couch instead of her.

  “You could stay with me if you want,” Becca offered.

  Zoe was comfortable where she was, couch or no couch. The hour’s trek to Becca’s house where she lived with her parents didn’t particularly appeal.

  “Thanks, but I’m going to hold out here.” Zoe slipped another pretzel into her mouth. Moving out would signal defeat and there was no way in hell she was letting Tyler think he’d won. That place was so not his and yet he was lording it up as though he was the original tenant.

  Where the hell was Ethan? She’d emailed Billy and updated him on this recent turn of events, but he hadn’t replied, and she assumed he was too busy in some filthy watering holes with his new friends from Oz. Or stuck somewhere with no Internet connection.

  “Come on. Walk me with me —then you can talk to the boss. Find out if he’ll take you on. I swear we’re so under resourced now that they’ve cut back so much. They need you, Zoe.”

  Zoe shook her head. She’d made her mind up and she was sticking to her plan. They got up and Zoe brushed the pretzel crumbs off her jeans. Her second day back in San Francisco made her feel as though she had never left.

  “There’s no chance of you and Billy getting together again?” Her friend walked slowly, and Zoe had to wonder if Becca was at all concerned about her one-hour lunch having stretched out to seventy-five minutes. She couldn’t imagine Nadine Stefano taking much of a lunch break, what with her high-powered job and all.

  “No.” She was sure of that.

  Completely avoiding the relationship drama, Zoe offered, “I went ahead and applied for that programming course I told you about. I’m still waiting to hear from them.”

  Becca stopped and looked at her in disbelief. “You did? Programming? Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”

  Zoe grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her along. “I couldn’t be more sure.” At this rate, Becca’s mild-mannered boss was going to end up firing her.

  “I am completely one hundred percent sure.”

  “But you’ve never programmed before.”

  “And that’s why I’m taking this course. It’ll get me up to speed in no time and I’ll be using the kind of software that’s used by a lot of companies. Billy used to show me his stuff, and it wasn’t all totally alien to me.” In fact, Billy had been surprised that she’d picked it up so quickly, the bits he showed her. “I used to be really good at computer studies in high school.”

  “You’ve changed.” Becca looked at her all funny.

  Maybe she had. She’d been dissatisfied with things for a long time the changes were long overdue.

  They walked down the busy sidewalk, dodging the lunchtime crowd, some angling to get a bite to eat, others returning back to work. A large sign outside a restaurant prompted Zoe to stop.

  It read:

  Part-time help needed. Enquire within.

  This might be the thing to tide her over, although it depended on what the part-time hours were.

  “You go on, Becca. I’ll catch up with you another time.”

  “You’re seriously applying for this?” Becca peered at the sign, then looked at Zoe as if she’d turned into a unicorn. “Think of all the fun we could have again if you came back.” Becca could try all she wanted to sell the idea to Zoe, a return to her cubicle wasn’t going to entice her back in.

  “No, I have to give this a go. You’re really late, Becca. Now, get moving—before you go and lose your job on account of me.”

  Becca gave her one last worried glance and took off.

  Zoe took a deep breath and walked into the small, cozy diner. The sign above it said: The Pancake House.

  Chapter 7

  As he’d been instructed, Tyler showed up at the golf club that was a quarter of an hour away from downtown.

  He’d been here before and had met Margaux for drinks, brunch and lunch on many occasions. But this was the first time she’d ever actually wanted to play golf. He didn’t even know she could play.

  He didn’t play either—it was his dad’s favorite past time, and Tyler avoided it like the plague. This was how his father relaxed when he took time off from his fourteen-hour workdays building up the car dealership business he ran with his two older sons. Josh and Teddy played golf and very well.

  The golf course was where business was sought, conducted and arranged. It was where his father and his business clients measured their greatness by comparing the size of their handicaps instead of the size of their dicks.

  It was not Tyler’s thing at all and he felt uneasy being here, even though the setting was peaceful, inviting and calming. He stared at the grass, a beautiful, lush shade of green, so well looked after. So unlike the run-down urban areas where the only splash of color was the graffiti on the walls. Areas he liked to wander around and shoot photos.

  No, golf clubs were too pretty and staged. He liked to capture something that was more natural, even if it wasn’t pretty.

  Walking towards the beautiful scenic white building, he expected to see a gathering of people and wondered how many clients she’d be entertaining today.

  There was safety in numbers. Lately, one-on-one time with Margaux had gotten a bit intense. He was even starting to resent meeting her at the weekly dinners at her favorite French restaurant.

  As he walked into the empty reception area, Tyler glanced around and cleared his throat. He’d rather be anywhere but here. Then he jumped when Margaux pounced on him from behind. She’d been sitting at a sofa in the corner and must have seen him the second he walked in.

  “There you are! And right on time, too.” She kissed him on both cheeks, then drew back and smiled at him. He was instantly bathed in an overwhelming waft of amber and honey, a scent he associated with Margaux distinctly. She slipped her hands over his arms protectively and he immediately tensed, clenching his fists into tight balls by his sides.

  She had never been so upfront physically before. He didn’t like it, her close invasion of his privacy—not only because it was one of Chrissie’s rules: no physical interaction, no kissing, no sex. Margaux’s sudden clinginess felt sickly, almost incestuous. Up until now they had been friends, in the professional sense—she’d been one of his normal, undemanding clients. She was interesting and intelligent and he had enjoyed his appointments with her. He’d had other, crazier appointments. Margaux was normal.

  Until recently.

  Aside from being attractive and smart, she was funny, and he had never understood why she never had a partner.

  “I’ve missed you.” She had that silly smile on her face. Her shoulder-length brown hair contrasted with the cream trouser suit she had on.

  She looked svelte, able to carry off wearing such a flowing o
utfit, which hung perfectly on her yoga-fied body.

  He hadn’t been sure if he needed to wear golf attire, not that he had any, or a business suit. So he’d opted to dress in dark jeans and a dark shirt.

  “You didn’t come dressed for golf,” he said.

  “Neither did you,” she replied, taking his arm and walking away out of the reception area.

  “But I thought you wanted to play—”

  She smiled again. “I wanted to spend some time together, just you and me.”

  He stopped outside, just before they descended the white stone steps. “Why didn’t you just say that?” He was getting sick of her silly games. “Why lie and create so much drama over such a little thing?” They usually met at her house for dinner, or at a restaurant. Or she’d ask him to go with her to the movies or see a show.

  “I thought if I made it sound like a golf day, you might think it was a company social event and be more inclined to meet me.” She grabbed his hand, made to walk as though they were together. “And it worked, didn’t it?” She looked smug in her victory.

  “Where are we going?” he asked, unsure of her sudden change of plans.

  “I thought we could go for a long walk.”

  “Why here?”

  “Why not? It’s beautiful out in the open. I want to know why you’ve been avoiding me—why you’ve been rude to me.” She gripped his hand tightly and he shook it free.

  “Why are you so rude to me when I call you?”

  “You’re supposed to go through Chrissie.”

  “She says you’re busy. You don’t have enough hours. Are you too busy for me?”

  He turned to her with gritted teeth. “You understand that this is an agency; this is a job. That’s all it is, and our appointments are just that, nothing more.”

  His words silenced her suddenly

  “You can’t call me directly,” he said, biting his words slowly.

  “But Bailey does.” She hissed pure venom back at him.

  Her words sucker-punched him. For a second he was unable to reply straightaway, or deny her accusation.