Layers Deep Read online

  “You have a way with words, Mr. Cross.” The liquid in my system began to seep out of my pores as I felt myself swinging on the stool. “I thought your company dealt more with security and protection?”

  “Our company deals with anything from providing body guards to surveillance systems and undercover jobs. Most of them are classified, as we deal with the government and high profile clientele. Security and surveillance is my partner’s division. I take care of the undercover jobs: anything from exposing cheating husbands to infiltrating corrupt government agencies. You’ll never see us or hear us, but we’re always there.”

  It was safe to assume he needed a woman to pose as a hooker, then. Was he looking to bust a pimp? The room spun and my thoughts vanished as quickly as they appeared.

  He regarded me closely before downing the tequila, and at that moment I wished I hadn’t been drinking so much. What he’d described was not only a dream job, but also had resources I needed. I shook my head, wanting my wit to return, but in his company that was impossible to do.

  Yet I tapped the bar again.

  Since he’d walked into the auditorium, I’d never considered this man as an employer, which he might soon be. At first, Cross was just a means by which I’d get my revenge. What a waste of a perfectly taut body, to be bound by professionalism, but I couldn’t allow him to be anything more. Why did this charming man have to be Cross? Why couldn’t he have been a stranger I’d met at a bar who took my breath away?

  I tipped my head back, no longer caring to suck on the lemon.

  The alcohol worked its way into my head with lightning speed. I pulled out my wallet, but Cross gently placed his hand on top of mine. The gesture, so innocent yet calculated, as if he’d been waiting to touch me all night, sent all the arousing sensors to his palm, specifically for that single moment. The instant he covered my hands, his warmth spread from them through my body in hormonal waves.

  My nipples ached, and I felt like a chocolate bar left out in the sun.

  “Put it on my tab, Mike,” he said to the barman, without turning away from me.

  “Yes, Mr. Cross.”

  He’s been here before.

  He hadn’t come for me after all. Was that what I wanted? I cursed at the tequila in my veins clouding my thoughts. My only interest was in the job, not him. Of all the men who’d ever hit on me, it couldn’t be him. Why did he have to be so damn sexy?

  With his hand still covering mine, he said, “It’s been interesting, Ms. … ?”

  I doubted he didn’t know my name, but I’d humor him. “Officer Green.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Allie.”

  My heart thumped harder. Cross must have done a background check on me already. Shit! Was it a thorough check? Probably. He might know my history, but I was sure not all of it. Some things weren’t written, hidden well to protect others.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Tristan.” I hoped my guess at one of the two Cross brother names was correct.

  “So fast on first name basis with a potential employer?” He smirked again. And that was even sexier than the tattoo. I loved the way a dimple formed on his chin and the small scar on his lip lifted. The innocent feature decorated his face as if all worries had left his mind and he was a simple, uncomplicated man. Tristan Cross was not who I’d thought him to be.

  “This isn’t an interview, is it?”

  “No. But I’m looking forward to seeing how you manage to be interviewed.”

  “I can guarantee it’s one you won’t forget.”

  “I don’t doubt it, Allie.” The way he said my name had me squeezing my knees together again. I bet he could make words like cow pie and vomit sound sexy. And I hoped I wouldn’t see either one tonight. And why was the room spinning faster and faster?

  Curse you, tequila!

  “May I offer you a ride home?” He looked out the window for a moment where a black Bentley was parked in front.

  “Thank you, but I don’t want special treatment.”

  “It’s just an offer from someone you had a drink with, Allie. Not from an employer.”

  I leaned in closer and lowered my hands to his knees. The courage must have floated on a large sail of liquor. My cheek brushed against his as I whispered into his ear.

  “I don’t do rides with strangers. They usually expect something in return.”

  Cross covered both my hands with his, pressing them to his knees. His warm breath brushed my cheek before his lip reached my ear, lightly tickling my earlobe as he whispered, “Then I’ll make sure we’re not strangers soon enough, Allie. However, I must insist my potential employee gets to her apartment safely.”

  He pulled away, letting his lips linger inches from mine. God, he smelled so good!

  Damn tequila.

  “Fine,” I whispered, regretting that my female strength had been stolen. Appearing weak was the last thing I wanted tonight. Cross had come to the bar at an inconvenient time, when I was at my lowest. See, it had been a while since my mother moved. When it quieted down so much, when I let my guard down and thought she was safe, I knew it was almost time to find her a new place to live. This was the calm before the storm. I could remain in New York; the apartment was leased only in Laura’s name, so my identity was somewhat protected. We usually worked opposite shifts, and other than the occasional time at work, we hardly ever ran into each other. It had been over a year now since we’d stepped out of school, ready to face the cruel world of crime.

  I jumped off the stool. The sway of my body agreed with gravity a bit too much. Cross caught me under my elbow. The gesture was too caring even for him.

  No, I can’t let that happen. I can’t let him be anything more than an employer.

  But the little devil sitting on my left shoulder laughed, fire bursting out of his ears. He knew the silk sheets had been already laid out for us deep in hell. It’s all his fault! I turned my head to the left, furrowing at the invisible beast.

  God, I must be really drunk!

  “I hope you don’t drink when you’re on the job.” Cross led me toward the exit, and I welcomed the cool fall wind. It held a hint of frost and sobered my lungs with a fresh breath.

  Thunder sounded, shaking the ground underneath me. A flash of lightning in the distance illuminated the sky, along with a silhouette of Manhattan skyscrapers.

  “You should know that in our business, it depends on the job,” I replied.

  “I guess you’re right. I’ll have to teach you some tricks, then, to avoid too many shots.”

  “And what makes you think I don’t know them?”

  His brows rose as he opened the passenger door of his Bentley. “Fair enough. I’ll leave the interview questions for the interview, then?”

  “I guarantee I’m quite witty when I’m sober.” I laughed, feeling a new swell of bravery pull me closer to Cross’s side instead of inside the car. He didn’t seem to mind and wrapped his arm around my waist.

  “I don’t doubt that.” He squeezed his palm on my hip.

  Why did Cross appear to be this normal guy who was actually into me? Did I have the same effect on him as he had on me?

  “I don’t usually mix business with pleasure, but you should know that this position is... unique.”

  “Meaning you’d want the ‘hooker’ profession to be treated seriously.”

  “Very seriously. Beyond anything you’d expect, which means playing out the role like you’re in the running for an Oscar.”

  I stepped closer until his tangy breath mingled with mine, and I brushed against his front feeling his enticing curve against my belly. His eyes clouded as both his hands held my hips steady. When he inhaled, his sculpted chest touched my breasts and I pressed in, asking, “How am I doing so far?”

  “Not bad, but you’re forgetting this isn’t an interview.”

  Of course it wasn’t. This was all me; me and the tequila. My body ached in all the right places, ready to be touched and caressed by his manicured hands. But he wouldn’
t hire me if I pushed it too far.

  Keep focused, Allie!

  “I can guarantee you I haven’t forgotten. Now, are you going to drive me home or not?”

  His brows narrowed as he motioned me into the car. Had I said something wrong? Was he expecting me to jump in his bed tonight? No, that wasn’t his style. He wouldn’t touch me when I was drunk. But I knew I would have Cross sliding between my legs sooner than he thought—before he hired me.

  I can’t!

  Sure you can, the devil grinned, wringing his hands. Consider it a done deal.

  Shivers ran through my body and I made a mental note to count how many shots I’d had next time.

  If I didn’t detach my feelings, I’d be lost to Cross’s charms. What woman wouldn’t be? And that, I couldn’t allow.

  Through the silent drive home, my vision blurred. The spinning in my head drowned out the past, present, and future. Aware of the car’s clean interior, my only goals were to hold the contents of my earlier supper in my stomach and to keep the world from spinning. Cross had never asked me for an address, which didn’t surprise me. An apology loomed on the tip of my tongue for acting over-confidant and drinking too much, but I couldn’t get the words out. Everything would spill if I opened my mouth.

  He parked in front of my apartment and paced around the car to open the door before I had the wits in me to step out. I cursed at the tequila in my mind again.

  “Good night, Allie.” Tristan leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. The gesture was too affectionate for an employer. But then again, he wasn’t my employer just yet. How I wished I were sober! I wanted to charm him and show him the woman I was underneath the layer of protective alcohol.

  My breath stilled as he touched the small of my back, motioning me toward the steps. “I hope to see you soon.”

  Soon is not quick enough, I thought.

  “Good night, Mr. Cross.” I stepped inside, and he closed the door behind me. With a deep breath I leaned my back against it. The first drops of rain fell, hitting the roof like golf balls.

  I stood there for a few minutes, but it seemed hours had passed. My hand touched my cheek where Cross’s kiss lingered, as I wondered how in the world I would manage to work for Tristan Cross without getting too close, risking my career – or worse, jeopardizing my mother’s safety.

  CHAPTER 3

  It had been two days since Cross drove me home, and I couldn’t have been more thankful I had a week’s worth of vacation to get my shit together. Laura had taken an extra shift at work, so she’d only stop by to sleep and change into fresh clothes. My two days of hangover-curing left me locked up in my apartment. By Monday morning I was sick of drinking my mother’s tomato juice concoction and rolled out of bed to open the drapes. The high noon sun shone through. I regretted wasting a weekend, but the tequila had washed away the pain. It drowned the past that guided my life, and for a moment at least, I could pretend to be normal and happy and lost to Cross’s hypnotizing dimple.

  Breakfast tasted better than I had thought it would, and strength slowly returned to my limbs. With the laptop on the kitchen table, I googled Tristan Cross. The few photos I found were clearly publicity shots of Cross in business suits—uncomfortable and out of his element. Part of me wanted to run downtown across the George Washington Bridge and beg him to hire me on the spot. He probably would, but that wasn’t my style. I had some work to do before I applied, on my own terms.

  I grabbed another Eggo and a green pro-biotic shake. The waffle was a ritual from childhood. Without syrup or peanut butter it tasted bland, but it reminded me of what had to be done. Every morning, the stupid Eggo refocused my goals. Its smell rekindled memories of that day thirteen years ago when he destroyed our little family.

  * * *

  My mother was washing the dishes by the sink, humming under her breath. I felt guilty for not helping her clean up the kitchen, but she’d insisted I not be late for school. She always made the waffles from scratch, which meant a bigger clean up. As much as I didn’t want her late for her morning mass, I couldn’t resist watching her when she thought I’d left. I had left, but came back for a book I’d forgotten. I leaned against the doorframe enjoying the peace my mother found. Her hips swayed as she moved across the kitchen, her seven-month bump sticking straight out. I didn’t interrupt her. I didn’t want her worried I’d be late for school, because I knew if I ran fast enough I’d make it. Still, she’d worry if I said anything, so I just watched her in a rare moment of happiness. My mother didn’t need an additional burden. Not now. She put on a brave face for me every day, but I could see the pain in her eyes and the ever-growing lines underneath. They weren’t wrinkles; they were paths of worry, fine lines that grew as she struggled to raise one daughter on her own and carry another one to term.

  A shadow passed by the kitchen window and I held my breath. My stomach gurgled and goose bumps covered my arms. I didn’t know anything about instinct yet, but I wish I had. The knock on the back door echoed with insistency. My mom dried her hands on the apron, narrowed her brows, and paced to the garden opening.

  “Hello, Dave. What brings you by this morning?”

  Millie, our chocolate Lab, barked outside.

  Mr. Wright was the town’s chief of police. Everyone knew him as the prominent man, able to quiet hundreds of people at once with his deep voice in City Hall. Respected by all, he helped my mother sell Dad’s tools from the garage. We’d sold a lot of stuff the past few months. The money would come in handy when my sister was born. Still, I didn’t like him. Mr. Wright was mean to the kids in town. He’d yell when we walked across a front lawn instead of using the sidewalk. His breath always stunk of homemade cigarettes. And his house was always the scariest for Halloween. Besides, I’d always thought this man had something in for my mom, but he wouldn’t dare make a move while my dad was alive. The way he looked at her when my father wasn’t watching couldn’t be a coincidence – like he wanted to grab her and run away. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I remembered the expression all too clearly.

  My father and Mr. Wright had been best friends since high school, and that’s why we trusted him. This morning, though, a weary shade covered his face. His neck tensed as he tightened his fists, arms hanging at the sides of his hips. Something was wrong, I could tell, and so I flattened my back against the wall in the hallway. I promised myself to make sure he left. I didn’t like him with my mother there all alone. Not today, not any day.

  He closed the door behind him, and the click of the lock sent shivers up my spine. I lowered myself to the floor, lying down, and barely peeked from underneath where they wouldn’t expect me looking, in case they turned. He rolled up his sleeves tauntingly slowly, and then stepped up to my mother and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek—not an uncommon gesture in town. She backed away, but the kitchen island blocked her behind. And it wasn’t the type of greeting kiss, once on each cheek, that everyone was used to. His lips widened and his hands took the side of her waist as he laid the lingering smooch. I imagined the sticky saliva left behind on my mother’s skin. Gross!

  “I’m expecting company, Dave.” Her tone held a hint of a warning, and I slowly stood up and took a step back as if I were her, needing distance from this man.

  “Who?” he asked.

  “Barb’s joining me for breakfast,” she lied. I knew my mother was in a hurry to make it to the morning mass. I didn’t understand why she felt the need to explain herself at the time; not until I was a bit older, at least. Her diversion didn’t seem to faze Wright.

  I opened the storage door under the staircase with care, slower than ever before, making sure no sound escaped, and I hid there. The cracks between the wooden boards were large enough to reveal half the kitchen. My mother and Wright were still out of view, but I could hear everything. And I wish I hadn’t, because the screams and pleading of my mother’s voice would haunt me for the rest of my life.

  “See, Peg, I just saw Barb go into church for a morning mass.
It’ll be an hour before she comes out of there. You know Father Fray and his long sermons, don’t you?”

  “Perhaps you should visit him once in a while and listen, Dave. You’ll think better than to scare pregnant widows.”

  My mom was trying to touch a nerve, but when I heard her gasp, I knew he’d stepped closer to her. Her warning didn’t work.

  “You don’t have to be afraid, Peg. We’ve known each other for a long time. It must be lonely for you since Ray passed.”

  “Don’t touch me!”

  The skin-to-skin slap made me jump up. I hoped it was my mother showing Wright she meant business, instead of him putting her in her place, the way I’d heard he had with other women. The fear and conviction in her voice tightened my stomach. I should have stepped out at that moment, something I’d feel guilty about for the rest of my life, but I was only ten, and fear told me to stay hidden under the staircase. I told myself years later he could have killed us both if I’d stepped out.

  “Such a pretty face. It hurts me to see you sad, Peg. No one could have predicted Ray would die in a hunting accident.”

  I could swear I’d heard him smirk. Years later I’d question whether my father’s death out in the woods had truly been an accident, and I’d research the evidence to prove it wasn’t.

  My mother sniffled and my heart stilled. Was she crying because Wright had mentioned my father, or because he’d gotten too close to her?

  “You know it should have been us at that prom, Peg. It would have been me standing at the altar with you if Ray hadn’t filled in for my date. I cursed him for my broken leg for years, and now I’ll curse him in death.”

  Everything inside me shook. How dare he talk about Daddy this way!

  I remembered my father telling me the story of how my parents had gone on their first date to the prom. Fate had brought them together when Dad’s date fell ill and Mom’s date broke his leg jumping off a wagon. It was meant to be!

  “And it should have been my child you’re carrying, not his.”